Thursday, November 14, 2019

sea land / hav land



the sea
is coming

the sea
is going

the land
is coming

the land
is going

the sea
is coming

the sea
is going

the land
is coming

the land
is going

the surf
of land

the field
of sea

the sea
is coming

the land
is coming

the sea
is going

the land
is going

the surf
of land

the field
of sea


havet
kommer

havet
går

landet
kommer

landet
går

havet
kommer

havet
går

landet
kommer

landet
går

landets
brænding

havets
mark

havet
kommer

landet
kommer

havet
går

landet
går

landets
brænding

havets
mark

Thursday, September 26, 2019

Pop Song / Popsang

Pop Song

red
east

red
west

red
horse

red
east

red
west

red
horse

the
same
red

the
other
red

not
that
red

but
this
red

horse

then a conversation
- one sided -
with an elastic band

blue
north

blue
south

blue
shoes

blue
north

blue
south

blue
shoes

the
same
blue

but
different

like
the blue
horse

is like
the red
horse

the sunset
comes
earlier
now


Popsang

rød
øst

rød
vest

rød
hest

rød
øst

rød
vest

rød
hest

den
samme
røde

den
anden
røde

ikke
dén
røde

men
denne
røde

hest

så en samtale
- ensidig -
med en elastisk

blå
nord

blå
syd

blå
sko

blå
nord

blå
syd

blå
sko

den
samme
blå

men
anderledes

som
den blå
hest

er som
den røde
hest

solnedgangen
kommer
tidligere
nu

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

Natsværmerblind / Mothblind


Natsværmerblind

fuglemanden med sit indre af fjer
lister rundt på Abrahamsblomsternes månefangere

den nat vi har skrevet med søm og mælk
venter ikke på os i sin metronomkappe

du er et øjeblik
væk mellem brune tænder
og 80’er techno

jeg er et øjeblik
natsværmerblind og en bølge
af rust i et øje


-

Mothblind

the birdman with his insides of feathers
tip-toes around on the Anrahamflowers’ mooncatchers

the night we have written with nails and milk
won’t wait for us in its metronomecloak

you are a moment
lost between brown teeth
and 80’s techno

I am a moment
mothblind and a wave
of rust in an eye

Saturday, August 26, 2017

taken / taget

he was taken from
his mother at a young age
by 25 rebel pelicans
and dumped in the cafeteria

in a faraway shopping centre
where no thinking man
or woman
would dream of being seen

and yet they were there
and continued asking each other
where they were
and how they got there

and why the menu
was one seemingly endless
string of spaghetti
without ketchup

:

han blev taget
fra sin mor i en ung alder
af 25 rebelske pelikaner
og dumpet i et cafeteria

i et shoppingcenter langt borte
hvor ingen tænkende mand
eller kvinde
kunne drømme om at blive set

og dog var de der
og spurgte konstant hinanden
hvor de var og hvordan
de var kommet dertil

og hvorfor menuen bestod
af et tilsyneladende endeløst
stykke spaghetti
uden ketchup


Monday, May 8, 2017

hime / hjam


while we identified trees
from their darkness

that darkness that’s always
cheating the eye

we ended up with the word ”home”
unused

but made up ”hime”
as a cross between

him and home

and looked away







mens vi identificerede træer
ud fra deres mørke

det mørke der altid
snyder øjet

endte vi op med ordet ”hjem”
i overskud

men opfandt ”hjam”
som en krydsning mellem

ham og hjem

og kiggede væk

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Sock / Sok (deep poetry)


Sock

and I thought:
the centre of my being
is a tiny splotch
of spilled liquid
lying on the floor
only visible from the side

it must have fallen out of me
when I was looking
for something else
something that would provide stability
like a butterfly on a needle
or a tapestry slowly being eaten by moths
for, let’s face it, stability
is as temporary as the solar system

(I just thought I’d give you
a picture big enough to make you believe
that I have big thoughts)

I must have dropped it
while I tried to replenish
the fluid I was taught
is vital, that fluid
which can reflect the faces
of other people
but won’t respond
to anything I – or they – say

but I stepped on it
and it vanished into my sock






Sok

og jeg tænkte:
centeret af min væren
er en lille plet
af spildt væske
der ligger på gulvet
man kun kan se fra siden

den må være faldet ud af mig
mens jeg kiggede efter
noget andet
noget der ville give stabilitet
så som en sommerfugl på en nål
eller en gobelin der langsomt spises af møl
for, lad os se det i øjnene, stabilitet
er lige så midlertidig som solsystemet

(jeg tænkte, at jeg hellere
måtte give dig et billede stort nok til
at få dig til at tænke
at jeg har store tanker)

jeg må have spildt den
mens jeg prøvede at opspæde
den væske jeg har lært
er vital, den væske
som kan genspejle
andre menneskers ansigter
men ikke vil reagere
på noget jeg – eller de – siger

men jeg trådte på den
og den forsvandt ind i min sok