Thursday, 15 August 2019

22-19


in this night of light the ink falls back into itself mute

on my knees
with empty hands

                           and the word
                           you spoke

with empty
hands

                           keeps unfolding

on my knees

                           in bees and toes


.

i denne nat af lys falder blækket ind i sig selv stumt

på knæ
med tomme hænder

                           og ordet
                           du talte

med tomme
hænder

                           udfolder sig stadig

på knæ

                           i bier og tæer

Monday, 12 August 2019

21-19


nothing to say to the wind it doesn’t already know

walking
on the spot

                    the boy
                    with the name
                    of a tree

the distance

                    draws a rainbow

shortens

                    beyond my grave

.

intet at sige til vinden den allerede ikke véd

går
på stedet -

                     drengen
                     med et træs
                     navn

afstanden

                     tegner
                     en regnbue

forkortes

                     hinsides
                     min grav

Tuesday, 23 July 2019

20-19


it’s just one of those things: with closed eyes you see through the wall where The Crucified hangs and count 4 white butterflies in the garden behind Him

not a crack
in the heat

                      calluses
                      on the knees

but a thought
forgetting

                      yea

its uselessness

                      you’re alive


.


det er bare én af de der ting: med lukkede øjne ser du gennem væggen, hvor Den Korsfæstede hænger og tæller 4 hvide sommerfugle i haven bag Ham


ikke en revne
i varmen

                     hård hud
                     på knæene

men en tanke
der glemmer

                     jep

sin egen
uduelighed

                    du lever

19-19


it takes a lot of digging away noise to see the eye that sees you

and now

                   back to pre-becoming

your answer

                   the light

is rain

                   in the name


.


en masse støj skal graves væk for at sedet øje der ser dig

og nu

                  tilbage til før-tilblivelsen

er dit svar

                  lyset

regn

                  i navnet

Tuesday, 16 July 2019

18-19


trust the commercial: you’ll be a better footballer if you haven’t got dandruff


half a melon

                        like in the 15th century

surrounded


                        a boiled egg

by
Missa Gaudeamus

                         is a boiled egg


.


stol på reklamen: du bliver en bedre fodboldspiller, hvis du ikke har skæl


en halv melon

                          som i det 15nde århundrede

omgivet

                          et kogt æg

af
Missa Gaudeamus

                          er et kogt æg

Friday, 12 July 2019

17-19


a famous jazz bass player announces on social media that he died 5 years ago today

now
voiceless

                     drawing a tree

now
a book

                     to have somewhere

of winds
and nails

                     to put my leaves


.


en berømt jazzbassist annoncerer på de sociale medier, at det i dag er 5 år siden, han døde

nu
uden
stemme

                      tegner et træ

nu
en bog

                      for at have et sted

af vinde
og søm

                      at gøre af mine blade

Monday, 8 July 2019

16-19


before the night falls the poplars retell what the wind heard today


from
the initial
word

                   starved to death

there’s
a sliding

                   the spider
                   that made its web

out
of time

                   in my
                   winter boot

.


før natten falder på genfortæller poplerne, hvad vinden hørte i dag


fra
det første
ord

                   sultet ihjel

er der
en gliden

                   edderkoppen
                   der byggede sit spind

ud af
tiden

                  i min
                  vinterstøvle

Saturday, 6 July 2019

15-19


then for a while the house of light is full of a still wind


still learning ...

                         a splash of olive oil
                         in the pasta water?

more you
than I

                         no, that doesn’t
                         remind me

in this
solitude

                         of anyone

.


så for en tid er lysets hus fuld af en stille vind


lærer stadig …

                         et skvæt olivenolie
                         i pastavandet?

mere du
end jeg

                          nej, det minder mig ikke

i denne
ensomhed

                          om nogen

Sunday, 30 June 2019

14-19


hardly darkness enough to see a flame

unfocused

                        in

‘have mercy’

                        the world

becomes
a butterfly

                       sweating

.


knap mørke nok til at se en flamme


ufokuseret

                       i

’forbarm dig’

                      verden

bli’r til
en sommerfugl

                      svedende

Tuesday, 18 June 2019

13-19


in this meantime swifts are torn out from the dusk

the moon

                      perhaps China

as an allegory

                      is a pirate copy

for
the moon

                      of China

.


i denne midlertid rives mursejlere ud af tusmørket

månen

                      måske er Kina

som en allegori

                      en piratkopi

for
månen

                      af Kina