• Jimmy Broccoli

Spotlight: Orkidedatter

Hi All


It's a wonderful day to shine the spotlight on someone I find highly talented. Today, on the Jimmy Broccoli page and website, it is an honor to share with you the writing of Orkidedatter.


I've followed Lily's (Orkidedatter's) poetry and art for quite some time - her verse is powerful, hard-hitting, and beautiful (all at once). I own a copy of her collection, "Beautiful & Battered: Breaking Through the Chains" (available on Amazon) and it's fantastic. Lily's work is also within the pages of my poetry anthology, "Spotlight" - and she is my first Featured Guest from Norway! Orkidedatter is a good friend and an amazing writer.


Orkidedatter in her own words:


Orkidedatter is a teacher, social educator, career advisor/counselor, therapist and sexologist who is opening a new chapter in her life. In Norway she is well known for her sensual short stories and articles written about children, incest, abuse, domestic violence, pedophilia, and mental health. She uses her own childhood experiences in her writings and reaches out to readers with an important message – reaching out to others with the same or similar experiences she had as a child.


Here is a poem by Orkidedatter - and I know you'll love it as much as I do!

______________

-DAUGHTER WITHOUT A FACE-


I hide it well when I am a

butterfly between the skyline

and midnight thoughts,

there I skim through the woods.


When I am human again,

the wind whips my hair,

and I swirl with my grief

with a mournful goodbye.


Always unseen

Always unheard

Always a daughter without a face.


I bang my head to the wall,

like a fish in the glass bowl,

trapped,

watching my own pain within.


My body is a fleshy mosaic piece

because of all the scars

from my razor blade.


The real me escapes with

the river of blood from my veins,

and the pool of blood you

still can watch between

the chains around my ankles.


I still feel like I’m bound to it,

caught in the mystery of

the pain in my own skin.


When you meet my eyes,

you meet the stabbed silences

that are split between the devil

and the angel's touch,

and so I always carry my

feelings loudly in my heart.


I see myself alive in a coffin,

and in the quiet I remember who I am.


Is this dead girl worth reliving the brief,

….shining light?

Perhaps,

because I miss her...


Photo: Orkidedatter


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