When you pick yourself up from the hard-packed dirt and cobblestones, when you comb the leaves and twigs from your hair, when you mend...

We wake eyes wide to a world of green and glimmering gold dripping with dew as the mist dissipates Written by: Katrine Hjulstad...

Golden patterns blur before their eyes as they blink and blink and slowly wake from a dark dream. Written by: Katrine Hjulstad Instagram:...

"A break," she whispers. "Just a little bit of silence." They laugh. It echoes and bites and claws, at her eardrums and eyes and mind. No...

He lingers on the precipice of ruin, waiting, for the fall that is to come. "Few live long enough to see their graces turned to curses."...

you slip through the undergrowth unseen unnoticed in the grey mist of dawn a shadow flitting from one tree to the next ghostly in your...

We follow the trails of sparkling light to the golden windows where laughter and music sing. Inside, it looks warm — a bubble of heat,...

Long may she reign; may she always pick herself back up again. May flowers bloom in her steps and the sun shine upon her crown. May she...

He wakes up and she fades into a world of dreams and hopes and undying devotion. She waits at the corner of his vision, taunts with her...

You find yourself in the scattered pieces of this land. The ruins are the memories of times long lost and gone, uninhabited,...

Frost creeps over the ground, the day has reached its end. Like snowflakes swirling in the lamp light we slowly come to rest under gentle...

I like the frost. I like the way it creeps across the world, like a blanket of shimmering light. It catches in the glow of lamps and...

I found your bottle. I found your shards. Bleak and dulled, the gleam still caught my eyes. One moonlit night I walked the beach of an...

Can glass float? Hollowed out, paper-thin, filled with air — will the waves carry it or will it drown? Where will the shards go? Who will...

You empty the blue bottle in the middle of the night. The city lights rush past painting streaks of light in an otherwise dismal heart....

I stand arms outstretched chest bare feet touching the wet earth as I walk out to greet the sky joining the ground as it drinks and...

the trees shake with it and the earth soaks it up flowers bending beneath its weight bowing to the heavens drinking up all the cruel...

I taste blood salty deep red metallic and unearthly somewhere between the sea and the rocks I lie bleeding having long floated across the...

Sometimes I wonder what is a more worthy topic of poetry: hurled obscenities and allusive (elusive) remarks about ideologies and...

I sit at the kitchen table and write. A square of morning light falls on me. I watch the shadow of my pen wander across the page like a...