2017-68

after

the Birth

                      sporadic fireworks

silence

                      sporadic 
                      (and automatic)
                      flashes
                      between synapses

pierced

                     gives me

                     the faint

                     impression

and

healed

                     you could

                     turn into a fish

by rain

                     the moment

                     I touch you

             ....*....

efter

Fødslen

                    sporadisk fyrværkeri

stilhed

                    sporadiske

                    (og automatiske)

                    lyn mellem synapser

gennemboret

                     gi'r mig

                     det svage

                     indtryk

og helbredt

                      at du ku'

                      forvandles

                      til en fisk

af regn

                      i det øjeblik

                      jeg rører dig

2016-67

2017-66

a questioning

into

the unlimited …

                              winter

ooh, look!

                              darkness

                                            so

jackdaws!

                              lid

en spørgen

ind til

det ubegrænsede …

                                vinter

                                          m

åh, se!

                                ørke

alliker!

                                solidt

2017-65

as if it was
	There’s a bit of movement in the huge vine that covers the back of the neighbouring house.
		once I’ve picked my nose
day
	I’m not sure it actually means anything.
		I cannot unpick it
light
		NOW I’m enligtened?
	*
som om det var
	Der er en smule bevægelse i den store efeu, der dækker bagsiden af nabohuset.
		når først jeg har pillet næse
dags
	Jeg er ikke klar over, om det betyder noget.
		kan jeg ikke upille den
lys
		er jeg oplyst nu?

2017-64

plop

plop

                   and when

                   the fog lifts

two

pills

into

the water

                   the houses

                   are rebuilt

and the day

begins

                   exactly

                   how they were

plop

plop

                  og når

                  tågen letter

to

piller

ned

i vandet

                   genopbygges

                   husene

og dagen

begynder

                   præcis

                  som de var

2017-63

the sizzling of effervescent pills
	»You're darkness!« »No, you're darkness!«
just enough
	in dualism to my neck I'm glad
to break the silence
	both my socks fit both feet
en hvislen af brusetabletter
	»DU er mørke!« »Nej, DU er mørke!«
akkurat nok
	i dualisme til halsen er jeg glad for
til at bryde stilheden
	at begge mine strømper passer begge fødder

2017-62

if it won’t do it by itself
	It’s one of those days where I find only a limited comfort in that the Celsius 0 degrees are 273 and a bit more than absolute zero
		the Dipper?
I’ll fold a ship
	and that I’m not depending on a sundial to measure time.
		yea it’s still unaffected
from darkness
	Outside an owl hoots and the first Christmas party of the year kicks off at the inn across the road with underpaid waitresses dressed as nisser – that’s a kind of Scandinavian elves.
		by Corcovado ...

hvis det ikke vil gøre det af sig selv
	Det er én af de dage, hvor jeg kun finder ringe trøst i, at 0 grader Celsius er 273 og en smule mere end det absolutte nulpunkt
		Karlsvognen?
vil jeg folde et skib
	og at jeg ikke er afhængig af et solur for at måle tiden.
		ja den er stadig upåvirket
af mørket
	Udenfor tuder en ugle og den første julefrokost er ved at gå i gang på kroen overfor med underbetalte tjenere klædt ud som nisser.
		af Corovado ...

2017-61

perhaps

November

                          I often step out on the landing

                          before going to bed to say

                          goodnight to the stars even if the

                          clouds and the rain do their best

                          to hide them.

is when

when we

live

                          In that case I say goodnight to them

                          and ask them to pass it on further

                          upwards.

in

a giant’s

pocket?

                          But enough about me. I stuck two feathers

                          into an apple. Now, let’s see if it can fly.

...

måske

er november

                          Jeg går ofte ud på afsatsen, før jeg går i seng,

                          for at sige godnat til stjernerne selv om regnen

                          og skyerne gør deres bedste for at skjule dem.

den tid

vi bor

                          I sådanne tilfælde siger jeg godnat til dem

                          og beder dem viderebringe min hilsen.

i

en jættes

lomme?

                          Men nok om mig. Jeg stak to fjer i et æble.

                          Skal vi så se, om det kan flyve?

(without number / uden nummer) 17.10 2017

moi

he

says

                    a

                    view to the sun

not

as

in

”me”

                    we

                    in the cloud cave

but

as

he

doesn’t

know

                    feel threatened:

the tiny

god

of

pre

snow

                    no

                    excuse not

                    to go out

moi

siger

han

                    et

                    kig til solen

ikke

som

i

”mig”

                    vi

                    i skygrotten

men

som

i

han

ikke

ved

                     føler os

                     truede:

den

lille

før

snes

gud

                    ingen undskyldning

                    for ikke at gå ud

2017-60

fogs

unto

ourselves

and each

other

                    in a dark

                    November

7.6

billion

                    the light

centres

the

uni

verse

                    of the

                     MilesTrane

tåger

for

os selv

og hin

anden

                     i en mørk

                     november

7,6

milliarder

                     lyset

centre

af uni

verset

                     fra

                       MilesTrane







inspired by a haiku by Michael Rehling

2017-59

2017-58

2017-57

to

pocket

it

                  perhaps

or

not

                  a mustard seed

autumn

wind

                  in the rubble

                  that was Raqqa

at

putte

den i lommen

                   måske

eller

ej

                   et sennepsfrø

efterårsvinden

                   i murbrokkerne

                   der var Raqqa

2017-56

dusk

as solid

as dusk

is

                  October

                  or not

fills

                  the crow’s

the window

                  the crow

tusmørke

så solidt

som tusmørke

er

                  oktober

                  eller ej

fylder

                  kragen er

vinduet

                  kragen

2017-55

the talk

of the rain

                       now that

                       the cough is gone

is

                       all is silent

the talk

of the rain

                       all

is

                       a

is

                       l

is

                       l

regnens

tale

                        nu

                        hvor hosten

                        er væk

er

                         er alt stille

tale

om regn

                         alt

er

                         a

er

                         l

er

                         t

2017-54

re

                autumn

treat

                you

                could

treat

                say

&

leaffall

               that

re

               efterår

træte

               det ku’

træet

               man

&

løvfald

               kalde

               det

2017-53

yes

                dismantling

                the wordy

                part

in

rattling

of leaves

                you end up

too

               with:

ja

               afmonterende

               den ordrige

               del

også

               ender du op

i raslen

af blade

               med:

2017-52

the

essence:

                a still

hush

               darker

               green

see

               before

               yellow

essensen:

               en stadigt

shh

               mørkere

               grøn

se

               før

               gult

2017-51

another dead

spider

                        how to

                        measure

                        absence

dangling

in its own thread

                        but by

                        the vortex

marking

time

                        it leaves

marking

time

                        behind?

endnu en

død edderkop

                        hvordan ellers

                        måle fravær

der dingler

i sin egen tråd

                        hvis ikke

                        ved den malstrøm

og markerer

tiden

                        det lader

markerer

tiden

                        tilbage?

2017-50

time

                un-enough

rain

goes

                the words

                that could

                work

straight

through

it

                 instead

                 of silence

.

tid

                 u-nok

regn

går

                ordene

                der ku’

                fungere

lige

igennem

den

                i stedet

                for stilhed

2017-49

leaves

wood

fruit

                       in your

                       medicine cabinet

and the odd

cadaver of a bird

                        between

                        non-pain and

                        slightly indifferent

dissolving

in(to) time

                        a cloud

quiet

quiet

                         past last

                        sell-by date

blade

træ

frugt

                        i dit medicinskab

og et kadaver

af en fugl

                        mellem

                        ikke-smerte

                        og lettere ligeglad

opløses

i/med tiden

                        en sky

                        der har overskredet

stille

stille

                        sidste salgsdag

2017-48

is that

what

we have

left

                      a painted clock

                      mercilessly

posing

like

                      measures

                      time

we were

rock stars

                      and gives birth

with

no longer

words

than

bling?

                      to a horizon

                      of needles

er det

det

vi har

tilbage

                      et malet ur

                      udmåler

at posere

som om

                      nådesløst

                      tiden

vi var

rockstjerner

                      og føder

uden ord

der er længere

end

bling?

                      en horisont

                      af nåle