Asema Lyrics Songs Poems copyright


Welcome to some of Asemas` Poems, lyrics/songs on line
through the years 2008  -  2016 : )
You soon will discover Asema enjoys the mix of text and picture. . . . . .
Look for website addresses  at the bottom of this page.
Note: Pictures depicted in low pixl solution

       Your Notes And Mine           

Your notes and mine
taste each other
clearly defined - in a bliss,
the scent of blooming one cannot miss.

they curl around ecstasies,
more often
they breathe the stillness of release.

Come into the dream,
come inside eternity
towards the design supreme
within all, by error
and perfection,
into the other side of  fall.

Sometimes they uprise themselves
- everywhere,
sometimes shadowing tracks
and then,
time becomes more than mere facts,
oh, how I love  
to hear us dance - the ultimate romance.
This poem initiated  in Oslo, around 1995 and finished 05

Asema Blues Card: Kite, You Flier

Asema Song Card: Golly Waltz

Page Content:

 * Your Notes And Mine
* Kite, You Flier ( Asema Blues Card )
* Golly Waltz ( Asema song Card )
* The White-Plank Dream
* Moments That Stir The Day
* There Was A Time
* I Whisper
* The Clarity
* Sinews In The Wind
* In The Greyland - Ween
* Golly Waltz ( Asema Song Card - Poster )
* From The Ground
+ more cards, lyrics

                           The White - Plank  Dream                               

There I was  - in this dream of light
in a room so naked of things
but, for a piece of white plank I saw
I put my vocal chords to sing.
The note was high and the plank ascended
in tune - like drifting on waves,
amazed I felt the sacred power
of heart connoting space.
I played a while, but urged to find out
if I could stand upon it; be lifted up
and thrilled to know myself supreme in One . . .
So there I stood and sang my heart out
while moving slowly upward,
aiming for the room beside
and the mirror high upon the tall wall.
Would I find myself a dead - bony skeleton
or see me uplifted for a giant fall?
Images flashing by,
should I dare to watch this horror at all . . .
My glance was vital - then relief beyond words;
I mirrored myself like in a child rebirth!
The youthful me all beaming whiteness
and my look so daring bold.
Then on and on my face grew older,
expressing loves` choice
In gratitude, I humbly turned
and sang my vowels low,
descended safely down again
and - now;
my white- plank dream is told.

Asema 2004, from a dream 1998 and an attempt to share it through a song.

Moments That Stir The Day   
We were locked between doors
and white walls in the gallery
the stranger and I.
No possible escape, no exit.
He kicked and stamped and
raged the bull`s anger -
within a close view of no night downtown,
I myself, very much aware
off the odd situation,
 simply sat myself down.
I intended to grab the opportunity
of contemplating colors in subtle change.
Behind inner doors I felt quite relaxed
when the stranger said:" Listen, Lady,
will you tell me what`s on your mind . . . "
I replied, " I can`t because them riddles and rhymes
would be tarnished if subjected  blindly, and
as you probably know - our mindful body
 is mostly our own to keep.
It is obvious that the paintings on the walls here,
is merely trivial to you - while I enjoy the deeper need."
A while passed  before  he faced me again saying:
" Please Lady,  tell about your heart. . . "
I told my heart is both weak and strong
and roam in time and space the grey land expanded,
 but not like in an open book."
And even so, I said, each pulsation is like
if I turn the pages over, to have another,
closer look.
Once again the stranger lapsed
into silence before his final question:
" Tell me Lady, where do lovers meet. . ."
And so I said:
" You meet where you can lay your heart forever,
around the law of will and choice. Cause there,
you`ll perceive what love is all  about,
and what distance lovers traverse
around both wholesome compassion
and the rational, irrationally rich,  or by a common
 haven or some gloomy chaos retreat:
Love is everywhere;
around in fatuous madness, inside subconscious streams
along with their hidden resort, in regrets, shame and juicy waves of passion.
Love`s prolonged in warmth and in fruitful rest -  guietly -
you`ll find lovers at dawn and sunset and when the moon takes the sky.
Do not measure  what`s counted best and most important or high."
We were locked between doors,
paintings and white walls,
two strangers, now  - willingly settled
into new and unknown moments.
Moments that stir the day       

 Asema, Oslo 1996 -  Helgeland 2003

          There Was A Time                   

There was a time when I brought my glow
from under the shade of leaves.
And what did I find. . .
Fire cast into the open,
sharp desire and vain belief.
Oh, young woman of dreams,
behold the force of Eros!

Had I not excuses upon my longing
for communion after much weariness; wandering alone . . .
Much like a naive babe of trust, I clung to the lust
feeling honestly true.
I was to find companions of such too.

There was a time, tossed from restful places -
 I adored shades, and now -
my own fire burned upon my own decay.
Hit me like sharp blades, cutting fragile bone,
displaying open bloodstreams, the old wounds.
Something unseen tried to force my notion
of coming blows, warned me against destructive rows.
Preliminary signs too rough for me to face, I couldn`t handle. . . .
Some truth denied, in my case - also a vision of underlying violence.
Just another natural progress penetrating lies I embraced.

There was a time I was to recieve the force of perception,
the buried spirituality deprived me of so much, nearly 
- pushed to regress back then.
Naked, without want, I stood ashamed with none to blame
but the forgery.
Alone, by the notion of stupid death. by the living flame,
I felt other dimensions rise.
I found a caring playfullness in deep - lit eyes.
Rooted along my inward scorn is my healing,
close to the dreary, screamy, free wheeling -
whatever, I found back to life.

There was a time I felt almost forlorn, - then, 
a battle thrown into the  innermost wild:
 Close by the common pond, nearly everyone beguiled
and still I knew I was me, though -  had it in me. . .
My rebirth of heart could come to be -
like new sound undisturbed by hours` frequence.
 With the will to go on  - in empathy, undisturbed:
 I would seek time to liberate choices and roses,
there was a time to move on within a freeing shape
of body, motion and mind, I had cleaned some dirt.
                                          Asema, Oslo 1997


I Whisper

Mel & lyrics: Asema

I whisper in need a lonesome night,

that`s all I can.

The dream that abides, a hope I once had,

I look for the light beside glooming layers.

But, black is this color tonight.

I whisper some word and my mind do fly,

in up - and - down rivers.

As thoughts hold the light, I see bright eyes shine,

from inside a mirror, the will of evening tight.

But, caught and imprisoned by night.

Always I am, what I am is good,

sometimes I sparkle.

The whole of me well, I glow so fine,

I couldn`t know frost if it touched my mind.

But, hard at heart is the night.

I whisper a name, a life of joy,

this - a prayer.

The name will arrive in a lovely well,

I flew so long, now my wish is a home.

But, answers are strange in the night.

//: I whisper in nights, I whisper a name,

oh what a shame if I whisper in vain : //

           The Clarity                       

Some young eye follows me
from the other side of the Island:
I am persistently observed
within eyesight.
Sharp - colored obstacle, what surrounds me here. . .
I am not sure - but,  I feel confined.
How am I being male- watched then. . .
Scrutinized by a bag of hormones
 and intellectual pride, by the inner vibes from
 body and soul, or like from hideous lies. . .
I sense a warning from
those hard eyes; 
his shut lips scream towards me:
" You are not of my need, don`t you
bother to come closer babe, I am
on a higher social scene, range, scale,  don`t
need your tiny level and degree "
 This conviction made him faithless, emty and cold,,
 made me disappear-  unknown.
And  I could vanish into the  unseen clarity
of true senses, almost proud,
 I felt my instincts renewed - closer to the soul.

Asema, Oslo 1997

              Sinews In The Wind                   

You watch beyond longer
Sister Far.
Pictures in tears cries from soil
inside the vein, wash out the pain,
gently - not too fast, hold - hold on.
The Silver Moon silently acclaims
figures carved in stone.
The Shaman Song resounds.
Raise The You - Yourself - I,
body and soul,
raise the word, raise the promise
from polar night to polar daylight.
The Hall of Light may tell the adventure
 in the breath of some wind,
does the wind really hold the light- voice
deep within . . .
Breeze and shade and drizzle laid.
Silver spirit and rune- drum,
- the whisper through a rustle
in the leaves nearby.
The eternity is forever
in love with peace.
Did the wind ever bid us time for races. . .
Tell me about Sàpmi,
sinews and relative and root,
let me remember
the warm real under kicking hooves,
 and beneath heavy stones:
The comfort of our Mother Omni,
good gracious - all this buried
in the past was meant to heal!
Traces of mothers, the wise presence
and courage and deed in the female fight.
Dearest  sister,
twine your sinews
- there`s a silvery shining venue
coming up tonight.

 Asema, Oslo 1996- 2000,
 inspired by and written to Risten Sokki, a samish poet.
( The Samish, Sàpmi, encompass large areas in both Norway, Sweden, Finland and northern Russia. As one of the leaders of the samish rebellion in Kautokeino 1886, Risten`s great grandfather was executed by axe and his head was sent to Christiania, - former Oslo.
Her poems brilliantly written, to me like a therapeutical journey in consciousness, as they touch the need for both redemption and remembrance, with so much laid as tabu for too long up north.  I came to know Risten in Tromsø in 1974, one of those unforgettable years of youth -  in friendship and study. )

 The GreyLand: Ween
                  Mel & lyrics: Asema                   

This song, not hit by sentimental greed,
 or nasty boot, graveyard scenes,
  oh free my sea - soul; oh
penetrate glossy promises;
 neglect and misogyny.
 Come you sea - soul!

The beauty I found here inside,
locked in an old hell and a broken why
 twisted false in tyrant power.
 Now this voice touch fairy tales
 without Grand Guignol.
 In the golden rain  a sky - bird sails,
oh, free my sea- soul.


Some dirty alley I chased,
too far, too long.
A pile of clean, cold clothes
 rubbed hard, that was wrong!
The distance from extreme, now
 I long for the colors - in between, 
 in the GreyLand,
 in the GreyLand - Ween.

This song, not hit by superficial greed,
 or nasty links to graveyard scenes,
  oh free my sea - soul; oh
penetrate glossy promises;
 neglect and misogyny.
 Come you sea - soul!


Some . . . . .

Misogyny =  female/ women - hatred
Grand Guignol = french;  brief sensational play intended to horrify

           From The Ground                     

From the ground of my being, a voice forced itself free,
in the darkest moment a light appeared, and  indeed,
I began to study some heaven and hell within,
- metaphors symbolically rude, energetic conflict, signed messages,
images and stones produced paradoxically none- judgemental states,
 not like ( you know ) `who blames who`, not that.
 I started to become more of me, first -  touched by a twilight zone,
with an open eye -  in view of wonderous change along a seemingly
loss of happiness and full control beyond reach.
I felt peaceful while watching a huge stone that  held a mirror green,
I saw stories unseen and some attitude beyond meaning,
steadily allowing a fill of some good to its meaningless form,
 yes - I might have found a purpose by doing so.
 I found a tolerant love - not only from above.
The problem of facing plural forms of death and rebirth
like naturally in cycles,  subsequently forced my mind towards
the complexity of forces and different standards of living.
Supportive inner work, need not become drowned
by  hiped mythology - or deliberate flirtation with
unethical behavior or gloomy mission.
A fellow- female, sort of companion,  I found
in the Field of Complete TimeSpan, 
And HeShe said:
" Don`t believe in the either - or,  in absolute now - and - then
 around neither - nor landscapes,  but try to know
the likeness and differences are bonded like one -
in the plural wholesomeness, in the many - dimensionality we are home.
From dual thinking to unity exchange, from basic enmity rearrange, and
  nature will come transparent, transcended fully and clearly visible -
beyond titles, status, dogmatic norms, heir, through now, the ultimate beyond the pair.
Find a flush of color, participate within - and inside the outward - do love!
Begin! Take heed of the unknown wealth, the unknown forces, you cannot master all.
Let notion transcend from the noble lie, and let the noble lie out of its antic frames -
where power- games have settled too deep into -  the so - called civilizations` cradle.
We had no choice it seems to compete and fight all the while, it took our space back then,
and where could anyone find a heart to trust and
what became of the ability to ease our troubled mind . . .
- not to say -  heal our mindful body. . . The loss of real life did prolong.
Some dogma and craving for unhealthy, superficial happy emotions framed us down,
let those constructions dissolve into a new sound,
 but don`t shape look - a- likes - too often, they will get too much power and
steal your true domain.
 Now, go on and think  and bring forward the love of  yourselves, include your brain,
think loud among friends and foe, but not with blaming, bragging wealth!"

From the ground of my being
I will work my way new,
find some liberty and  freedom,
 within the span of false and true,
I might be healed, let this voice through!
The warm soil slips nicely from my fingers,
I will get to know the depths I need,
and  perhaps find you within distance,
 and  see our bonds tighten as we are freed,
I will know your near me, more wholesome inside - fed,
and link the restored parts – without sealed demands,
I am through with such ties.
From the ground of my being, I will meet you - more alive.
                                                                      Asema,  Oslo 2000

Asema SC: Roll Roll Snowball

Asema SC: Frozen Smoke

Asema PC: The Girl In The Room

Asema PC: The Light-Hours Up North

Asema SC: Light My Glass With Fire Sun

Asema SC: Wild Land

Asema PK: The February Crystal

Asema PK: In The Silence

Asema PK; Who Are You

Asema PK: Little Cat

Asema PK: If We

Asema PK verse 1: I Guess I Mirror

Asema PK verse 2: I Guess I Mirror

Asema PC: Porcelain Cups

Asema PK: If we wanna know

Link to my song page norwegian lyrics on line down on this page:

Asema Dikt, Poesi og Sanger copyright

and a jazzy jazza page inspired by musicians:

Asema Jazzy Jazza copyr.

Sites based in Norway I`d like to spend more time with, -  I recommend:

Asema Tips:ää

Asema tips:

Asema tips:

Asema tips:        www.oddnordstoga,no

Asema tips:

Asema tips:    24 hours non stop net radio

Asema tips:   

www.hallvar_T_Bjø T Bjørgum   

 And more:

http.//                  Neil Youngs` gallery Greendale:                                                                   



                                                                                                                                                            All the best from Asema