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Lis Lovén

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021

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27 Followers
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33 Stories

399 karma pts

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Towards Hellish places

Towards Hellish places… She stood suddenly in front of me. Mrs Lady W. How did she end up here? I thought I was alone in here. In this forgotten place. Should I explain how I got here? I think I must have had wings. I was soaring into Plaana town. And there she was. She had an oven with here. Dazzling hot and burning from I don´t know what. It was hot and redish. She said she was cooking doves. Weird. Did she...I had to take some deductive phases backward in my memory to understand how I got in here. How and why? Well, I can recall now. Sl...

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Back to where it all began

Back to where it all began... It is odd. Not to say that it is most peculiar. I can recall a lot. And of course I can remember one of my first love. She was blond, almost blond. And her hair was like golden beams to me. Golden beams from the sun. As her lips were strawberries. Her body stole the shapes of just any marble statue. Stole everything that was poetry. She was by the way more than poetry. Her feet kissed the sand where I was to die. And maybe it is because I did trust her to the very end I had to die. And I died because of love. ...

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The Baroquesque Artist

The Baroquesque Artist… I was an artist of a true sort. I thought. Which meant I had to face myself as a character in a poem, shaped by a plot that was a mirror-tale. I saw myself in this poetic world and it – the poem – reflected back all its utterances from the scenes of the mirror . I could have stayed in that image for ever. But alas! I suddenly dropped the mirror I was in - to the floor. It fell just out of my hand like that! And? It broke into seven hundred pieces. The mirror I mean. And in those broken pieces I began facing myself, ...

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Collecting strawberries

Collecting strawberries... I simply had to collect all my memories. Just about everyone. All to the punest spot. Collect ém like strawberries, to put on a straw, like pearls of good stories. Well like poems, shining red like my once so ever blushing cheeks. Like that...like my skin was too deep to bury every good word. Words – was that it? Did I gather all words just to see them shine on their own? Just to know that I was alive. I mean this obsession about words. Each and any word held so much, a mythology in every small letter. Letters we...

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In The Beginning was word...

In The Beginning was word... ”WOW! I can really see things now!” He bubbled out of shere joy when he came to terms with life. Life with all its edges and blunt angles. Its shapes and forms and social structures. But before that? What had happend to him? When where and why? He for sure was a cowboy in his past life. He had come back to meet his Indian friends again and again. But before that? He was a psychologist from the start. He was born in the 50s and grew up a wild child in the 60s. All was there. Everything and anyone. In any way. ...

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Mindfullness at war - see!

Mindfullness at war – see! Right! It´s me again. I ought to be the character in a story like this. Have to, for the sake of coming out as a mad woman. Right again! There is nothing correct about me, not in my mind. See, Henry Miller once declared that writers are the true criminals. So. I told Carline at the library that I once stold a book. What about it? Gotta prove I am out of the correct path. Mad. Crazy. But I can assure you I have tried it all. To turn back to normality, I mean. Over and over... Just one thing. Being sane does not su...

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Piled up the desk

Piled up the desk… Ulla, Maria and Sune – well! They were at work and did the job the way to be expected. At Vaxjo city library, you know.That is, they served as they smiled. But wait two seconds! Weren´t they correct in the correct way, just to be expected in a town like mine. No, they were nice and all that, but see...They had no small talk. And most of the time they were standing behind the desk. Did a minimum to give hints about books. They thought that the visitors knew better what books to find. Or this is how it seemed to me from my...

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A Letter From London 1776

 June McFirst 64 Growth Street 666 London United Kingdom Written on June...1776…. Dearest John Lentonny I am mad, just about as mad as anyone. I have now asked my sweet husband to ask our priest to write down this for me. As the world says in those days: If we own nothing in our pockets, we could at least gain something from you out there in our colonies in America. There are rumours that you might not get our cargo, and God knows how I´m working my behind off to just get two spoons of sugar for my tea. I have faith in our Lord. And...

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gotta pull in life´s own road...

 It came a riding like its own. Red it was. Sure of the metallic surface of its own...its... own... Pulled over. I jumped in. I thought I gotta be Beat. Thought I wanna go for a ride. I said I am just like the other boys. On my own. Can´t really recall how I got into that red car. So metallic. It was like riding along through Tävelsås was the far most exotic things I could do… Threw out words and spitted out hate of the world...gotta be like the boys. Fucked it all. On the road was a film in my deepest dreams. ”Where ya from?” he asked ...

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An odd object...

 Oh, you must have seen it? That odd and extremely valuable coffee cup. Made of the finest porcelaine, true to the very core of an object ! Shining, borrowing glitter from the sun that sparkle on it, as it stands on that rare and small pedestal made of marble. Must be a Renaissance kind a´ thing, right! It can, even thought it is an object, tune into the eyes that want to own in. But the cup knows something. Only true eyes can own it, for sure…But – how many? So if you happen to come by Madame Chi´ s shop – then – there! Ah, such a thin...

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Solidarity in the end after all...

 Solidarity, it was all to her. Human understanding. But perhaps not religion to start with. Not in her youth, not at all. It was not common to understand religion back in the 70s in Sweden...No really not… It was just this thing, trying to grasp a greater understanding of life... Lin wanted it all. Bob Dylan. Music from the 60s to reveal it all. Loose up all hidden dreams. Let things go away. But it was not excactly moral,. Rather, it was a totality of Mankind. A kind of dream to belong and to let the godamn whole world be a part of th...

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Through-me-her-I-apes

I woke up one early morning and felt it. I had to know all things she knew. I had to literally sweep into her with a broom. A Master of myself. It was odd and I became f-ing afraid of it all. Her eyes saw more than mine. Her eyes had swept through seven oceans and secen continent. She was the ruler of everything. Men had gone abroad to rape other countries. I had to sense why. I had to steal all her visions and her class to see what she could hint at with such a majestic touch. She was a highborn lady. I had to act in her name of my own fame...

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The prosecutor and the lawyer

Weekly Contest #104

 There was a prosecutor and a lawyer in Scarborough town. Oh such a lovely team they were at court. The prosecutor was highly introvert and the lawyer open and extrovert. To hook and crook onto weird talks must meant that the bait and the solution gets into one and one only. One solution in accordance with the crime... However the kind gentleman? The prosecutor fell in love of a woeman from Sweden, our renown Lin. And Lin was mad and Lin still studied English, trying to trap down grammar, spellings and mistakes. The lawyer, more of a Ro...

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Breaking the rules of Scarborough

Breaking the rules of Scarborough... Lin Lin Lin. Always the same. Always something new. There was one late August many a years ago. Perhaps there was again the same crime in human history. War or love? Always the same. Always the latest news. Just like history itself played out every game through any and each heart. Imagine if true love could prove that the searches for signs ought to be a rule. Just like Tina Turner knew that kind of love – and it would be? The same rule obeyed all over and again. Playing by the shame. And over an again ...

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To be wrong because of sincerity...

Weekly Contest #102

Lin had to figure out things, because objects, issues and all sorts of things gave her mind ideas about the past within heritage. A moral code was however not modern when she was young, so she had to do wrong kind of acts, just because of it. And afterwards try to have ways to solve it. But her shame and guilt was laid down in her personality from fishermen and sailors, as that was her mum´s ancestry. The compass on the sea might make you roam the waves as they roll into your blood, veins, muscles and sinews. Her ancestry was of seas and sea...

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