new book/ny bog
////
poem 24.11.24/digt 24.11.24
//you take off
your reading glasses
meaning to put on
the normal specs
but you forget
and stumble through
winter-dark rooms
looking for something
you can’t quite see
which makes you
forget what it was
you were looking for
what was it?
why did you need
what you now
have forgotten?
what is it
you’ve forgotten?
and where
is it?
you end up
by the kitchen sink
and wash your hands
that’s the least
you can do
now you’re here
that’s a sinsible
thing to do
isn’t it?
…
shadows live longer now
…
outside ice falls
…
but
you have clean hands
now
at least
you have that
*
du tager
læsebrillerne af
for at tage
de normale briller på
men det
glemmer du
og vakler gennem
vintermørke værelser
mens du leder efter noget
du ikke rigtig kan se
hvilket får dig til
at glemme hvad et var
du ledte efter
hvad var det?
hvorfor havde du brug for
dét du nu har glemt?
hvad er det
du har glemt?
og hvor
er det?
du ender
ved køkkenvasken
og vasker dine hænder
det er det mindste
du kan gøre
nu du er her
det er en fornuftig
ting at gøre
er det ikke?
…
skygger lever længere nu
…
udenfor falder der is
…
men
du har rene hænder
nu
i det mindste
har du dét
Sleeping Food
//As a continuation of exploring counter-point/juxtapostion in poetry to create a kind of dialogue in the reader’s mind, these are experiments to find out whether a title – or what presents itself as a title typographically – could function as a first line in a poem. Normally we read the title as a more or less comprehensive catch-phrase of what the text below it will reveal, but in this case the following phrase/poem will be in juxtaposition to what the title proposes. The basic presumption is that “the space” between the two parts creates a room for the reader to enter. I hope it works.
MENTALLY AN OVERRIPE PLUM
suck
shoe
suck
.
SHE DOESN’T LIFT HER FEET
blackshirts taken
.
I’M SURE THE BEACH WON’T MIND
your eye’s a bridge swelling
.
CACOPHONY
easel
.
IT’S MY BRAIN IN YOUR NUTSHELL
one stone four falling with the sparrows
.
TIME SITS ON A BLUE 3-LEGGED STOOL
always she’s closer
.
IT’S A KIND OF MECHANICAL SLEEP
an omelet enters a now
.
ALL THOSE YELLOW HOUSES
someone else
with a parrot
.
MORNING DROP
bird black bird
.
I MEANT TO POST A CRYING EMOJI BUT IT CAME OUT A GOLFER
all that beach and no gulls
.
FOREIGN
[music]
in hand
.
DID SHE JUST SING THE WORD UMLAUT?
sausage cloud
.
RE SISTING
laces
.
YOU NEVER KNOW THIS TIME
mind gravel
.
PEAR
take this this
.
OH, HE MISSED!
a
finger
left
in
silence
.
FOOTPRINTS
but if the waters won’t
.
INTUITED TOMATO
the spellchecker doesn’t believe in Attenborough
.
EMPTY BUT FOR HATS
sleeping food
La Peñuela
//Left Index Finger/Venstre pegefinger
//Right Index Finger/Højre pegefinger
//phrase fragment/sætningsfragmenter
//bits of other people’s phone conversations in public
stykker af andre menneskers telefonsamtaler i det offentlige rum
.
“It’s too hot for rice pudding. Here’s the key”
“det er for varmt til risengrød. Her er nøglen”
.
“I said: I have never said that! Not D cups. TEA cups”
“Jeg sagde: dét har jeg aldrig sagt! Ikke D skåle. TEskåle”
.
“I don’t know. It feels different with people in it”
“Jeg véd ikke rigtigt. Den føles anderledes når der er mennesker i den”
.
“it’s like he never saw stucco before. No, Mark. Not Alex. He definitely has seen stucco”
“det’ som om han aldrig har set stuk før. Nej, Mark. Ikke Alex. Han har helt sikkert set stuk”
.
“no, that vase looks like a skull over there”
“nej, dén vase ligner et kranie derovre”
.
“Back in the day when people came into the house they were not offered a coffee, they were also offered a coffee. And a cigarette. Typical for Portugal”
“Dengang fik folk, når de kom på besøg, ikke tilbudt en kop kaffe, de blev også tilbudt en kop kaffe. Og en cigaret. Typisk for Portugal”
.
“no, not a banana. […] No, I said!”
“nej, ikke en banan. […] Nej, sagde jeg!”
.
“and then we have flowers and pictures of flowers. (Waving an index finger) No, that’s private”
“og så har vi blomster og billeder af blomster. (Vifter med en pegefinger) . Nej, det er privat”
.
““take this and eat” it is really quite sufficient”
“”tag dette og spis det” er i virkeligheden tilstrækkeligt”
.
“no, I never stop. I’m not like that”
“nej, jeg stopper aldrig. Sådan er jeg ikke”
.
“Oh, you don’t shave so you don’t need this”
“Åh, du barberer dig ikke. Så har du ikke brug for dette”
.
“Ah, but now I can say I have touched it as well”
“Ah, men nu kan jeg sige, at jeg også har rørt ved det”
.
“wow, this is not even written in French!”
“wow, det her er ikke engang skrevet på fransk!”
.
“you’re breaking up [taps w nails on the phone] can you hear me?”
“du falder ud [banker med neglene på telefonen] kan du høre mig?”
.
“no, I don’t want to go out, I’ve been out of it all day”
“nej, jeg har ikke lyst til at gå ud. Jeg har været ude af mig selv hele dagen”
19.06 2024
//a man stops on his bike
and stares intensely at some windows
two storeys up
on the other side of the street
for a long time
and I make up
my own story about
what’s going on:
perhaps he once knew
a woman who lived there
one he lost contact to
one who was struck
by mental illness
or simply evaporated
as people do
these days
and I wrote this poem
about it
not including the green grocer
carrying cucumbers
and iceberg salad
as people do
these days
.
en mand stopper på sin cykel
og stirrer intenst på nogle vinduer
på anden sal
på den anden side af gaden
i lang tid
og jeg laver
min egen historie
om det:
måske kendte han engang
en kvinde der boede der
én han mistede kontakten til
én som blev ramt
af psykisk sygdom
eller blot fordampede
som folk gør
for tiden
og jeg skrev dette digt
om det
uden at nævne grønthandleren
der bar på agurker
og iceberg salat
som folk gør
for tiden
that stone/den sten
//poems
//As a continuation of exploring counter-point/juxtapostion in poetry to create a kind of dialogue in the reader’s mind, these are experiments to find out whether a title – or what presents itself as a title typographically – could function as a first line in a poem. Normally we read the title as a more or less comprehensive catch-phrase of what the text below it will reveal, but in this case the following phrase/poem will be in juxtaposition to what the title proposes. The basic presumption is that “the space” between the two parts creates a room for the reader to enter. I hope it works.
…*…
THE LONGEST DAY EVER RECORDED
when you turn your head the pain subsides
.
DEN LÆNGSTE DAG DER NOGENSINDE ER MÅLT
når du drejer hovedet aftager smerten
:
THE DENTIST ISN’T IN TODAY
I’ve only seen the Eiffel Tower
.
TANDLÆGEN ER HER IKKE I DAG
jeg har kun set Eiffeltårnet
:
FRIDAY
have you noticed the nails are bleeding?
.
FREDAG
har Du lagt mærke til at sømmene bløder?
:
YOU LOOK AT THE COBWEB IN THE CEILING AND SIGH
it’s no use
the pizza
sleeps
DU SER PÅ SPINDELVÆVET I LOFTET OG SUKKER
det nytter ikke noget
pizzaen
sover
:
ELEGY
she always tries to smile backwards
.
ELEGI
hun prøver altid at smile baglæns
:
NOT YOU, YOU CAN’T SHUT UP
every drop
’s full
of rain
.
IKKE DIG, DU KAN IKKE HOLDE KÆFT
enhver dråbe
r fuld
af regn
monostich
//like my father and mother I have the sky above me
som min far og mor har jeg himlen over mig
.
today the rain doesn’t care if you’re a hipster or a beggar
i dag er regnen ligeglad med om du er hipster eller tigger
.
arrogantly I think the cornflower in me is my own doing
arrogant tænker jeg at kornblomsten i mig er én jeg har groet selv
.
stay out long enough and the wind will take your place
vær ude længe nok og vinden vil tage din plads
.
I didn’t stop the sunlight from crawling across the table
jeg forhindrede ikke sollyset i at kravle over bordet
.
sometimes an apple sleeps
nogle gange sover et æble
.
do they talk when they cannot paint?
snakker de når de ikke kan male?
.
someone’s tearing up the street
en eller anden river gaden op
.
looks like he’s proud of his jackhammer
ser ud til at han er stolt af sit trykluftbor
.
four lighters on the table and spring has begun
fire lightere på bordet og foråret er begyndt
.
time doesn’t stop when you change the date
tiden står ikke stille når du retter på datoen