Wednesday 27 December 2017

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

Friday 15 December 2017

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

Sunday 10 December 2017

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?

Tuesday 5 December 2017

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

Monday 4 December 2017

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

Friday 1 December 2017

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 ...

Tuesday 28 November 2017

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?

Friday 17 November 2017

(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

Tuesday 14 November 2017

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

Tuesday 17 October 2017

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

Tuesday 10 October 2017

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

Saturday 7 October 2017

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

Wednesday 27 September 2017

2017-54


re

                autumn

treat

                you
                could

treat

                say

&
leaffall

               that








re

               efterår

træte

               det ku’

træet

               man

&
løvfald

               kalde
               det

Tuesday 26 September 2017

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:

Monday 25 September 2017

2017-52


the
essence:

                a still

hush

               darker
               green

see

               before
               yellow









essensen:

               en stadigt

shh

               mørkere
               grøn

se

               før
               gult

Saturday 23 September 2017

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?

Wednesday 13 September 2017

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

Friday 8 September 2017

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

Wednesday 6 September 2017

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