Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Philippe Beck

NOISE

Evening makes a fire.
Day fades. Gone melancholy.
Man and woman weave
joy and movement,
and the life of a child in the walls.
Paradise is elsewhere.
But a child
is of paradise as idea.
Active wish in the bedroom.
Or the speaking Room.
Child is there.
Syllable-idyll.
Tom Thumb lives
by his limbs,
that is, the brain.
Mind is a limb.
Child inhabits sometimes the ear
of animals
and steers them.
He imitates them.
He is also the voice of noise.
Spreading fear among the
bad men.
They flee in terror.
A voice
clothes the earth.
Little man sleeps on straw
or in an old shell.
Worth the world’s weight in gold.
He is forbidden the light dance of steps.
Destiny of a fairground freak.
Ordained thus.
He leaves.
And lives, despite himself,
not in the belly of whale
or shark,
but of a cow,
and uncandled.
She provides an ample and circular
cover, undergoing slow
digestions.
There are no flying boats.
Cow ploughs the earth
in her manner.
Whale enters the material
unconsciously.

He has slept in the hay.
A magnetic sleep.
Away from mechanical marriage rites.
Day has whitened.
The cow has taken him
in her stomach.
She is his night refuge.
Sun is without.
Sun Unfazeable.
It gives Main Heat
and Organs.
It mimics the unconscious cow.
She, with her circular nape.
She who triggers a curiosity.
A puppet?
Accused
like the Greek rock?
Cow is inverted glory.

Tom leaves his night refuge.
Refuge of night and covering.
Wolf eats in the Round
and gobbles Tom too.
Wolf is the new provisional house
of a little man
who dances with energy.
He dances out of Attention.
It makes a sound.
Attention-Dance.
Father wakes up.
Opens wolf’s stomach.
With profane scissors.
In the open, child of
character he bawls.
He is bound tight
against hearts.
He has traversed the wind.
Canal of ruins.
Hippity-Hoppity.


after ‘Tom Thumb’

LAWAAI

Avond maakt vuur.
Dag trekt weg. Hij is gemelancholiseerd.
Man en vrouw vlechten
vreugde en beweging in elkaar
en een kinderleven in de muren.
Paradijs is niet hier.
Maar een kind
is paradijs in gedachte.
Werkzame wens in de alkoof.
Of de Spreekkamer.
Kind is er.
Lettergreepidylle.
Klein Duimpje leeft
met lijf en leden,
waaronder zijn hersens.
Geesteshouding is een lidmaat.
Kind woont soms in het oor
van dieren
en leidt ze.
Hij bebuikspreekt de dieren.
Hij is ook de stem van het lawaai.
De oorzaak van de schrik
van slechte mensen.
Ze lopen een heel eind in het afgrijzen.
Een stem
kleedt de grond.
Kleinmens slaapt op stro
of in leeg slakkenhuis.
Hij is het werelds goudstuk waard.
Verbod van de verende dans van pasjes.
Een kermisbestemming.
Op bevel.
Hij gaat weg.
Bewoont zijns ondanks
geen walvis-
of haaienbuik,
maar de buik van een koe,
zonder lamp.
Ze is een wijde en cirkelvormige huid
met logge bewegingen.
Er zijn geen boten in de lucht.
Koe doorploegt de aarde
op haar manier.
Walvis brengt onbewust
materiaal aan.

Hij heeft in hooi geslapen.
Een magnetische slaap.
Ver van mechanische bruiloft.
De dag werd bleek.
De koe nam hem in haar maag.
Ze is zijn lokaalnacht.
Zon is buiten.
Zon Onbewogenheid.
Hij geeft Voornaamste Warmte
en Organen.
Hij bebuikspreekt de onbewuste koe.
Zij, met de cirkelvormige nek;
Zij die een nieuwsgierigheid begint.
Is zij marionet?
Beschuldigd
zoals de Griekse rots?
Koe is averechtse roem.

Duimpje komt het Lokaal van de nacht uit.
Lichtlokaal en handschoen.
Wolf eet de Cirkelvormige,
en Duimpje erbij.
Wolf is voorlopig nieuw huis
van een kleintje
dat danst zo hard hij kan.
Hij danst door Oplettendheid.
Ze maakt lawaai.
Let-op-dans.
Vader wordt wakker.
Hij snijdt de wolvenmaag open.
Met profane schaar.
In frisse lucht, kind
van karakter maakt lawaai.
Hij wordt
aan harten gedrukt.
Hij heeft de wind gekliefd.
Kanaal van ruïnes.
Eetlust + eetlust.


naar ‘Klein Duimpje’

BRUIT

Soir fait un feu.
Jour s’efface. Il a mélancolisé.
Homme et femme trament
joie et mouvement,
et une vie d’enfant dans les murs.
Paradis est ailleurs.
Mais un enfant
est du paradis dans l’idée.
Voeu efficace dans la chambre.
Ou la Salle à Parler.
Enfant est là.
Idylle-syllabe.
Tom Pouce vit
de ses membres,
dont le cerveau.
Mentalité est un membre.
Enfant habite parfois l’oreille
de bêtes
et les oriente.
Il ventriloque les bêtes.
Il est aussi la voix du bruit.
La cause de la peur d’humains
mauvais.
Ils vont loin dans l’effroi.
Une voix
habille le sol.
Petit d’homme dort sur paille
ou dans coquille ancienne.
Il vaut l’or de monde.
Interdit de la danse légère des pas.
Un destin de foire.
Par commandement.
Il part.
Habite malgré lui,
non le ventre de baleine
ou requin,
mais le ventre de vache,
privé de chandelle.
Elle est une peau ample et circulaire
qui a des évolutions lourdes.
Il n’y a pas de bateaux dans l’air.
Vache sillonne la terre
à sa manière.
Baleine entre du matériel
inconsciemment.

Il a dormi dans le foin.
D’un sommeil magnétique.
Loin de noces mécaniques.
Le jour a blanchi.
La vache l’a pris dans l’estomac.
Elle est son local de nuit.
Soleil est dehors.
Soleil Impassibilité.
Il donne Chaleur Principale
et Organes.
Il ventriloque la vache inconsciente.
Elle, à la nuque circulaire;
Elle qui commence une curiosité.
Elle est marionnette?
Accusée
comme le rocher grec?
Vache est gloire inverse.

Tom sort du Local de la nuit.
Local de lumière et gant.
Loup mange la Circulaire,
et Tom avec.
Loup est nouvelle maison provisoire
d’un petit
qui danse avec énergie.
Il danse par Attention.
Elle fait du bruit.
Attention-Danse.
Père se réveille.
Il ouvre l’estomac de loup.
Par ciseaux profanes.
Au grand air, enfant
de caractère a fait du bruit.
Il est serré
contre des coeurs.
Il a traversé le vent.
Canal de ruines.
Appétit + appétit.


d’après ‘Tom Pouce’
Close

NOISE

Evening makes a fire.
Day fades. Gone melancholy.
Man and woman weave
joy and movement,
and the life of a child in the walls.
Paradise is elsewhere.
But a child
is of paradise as idea.
Active wish in the bedroom.
Or the speaking Room.
Child is there.
Syllable-idyll.
Tom Thumb lives
by his limbs,
that is, the brain.
Mind is a limb.
Child inhabits sometimes the ear
of animals
and steers them.
He imitates them.
He is also the voice of noise.
Spreading fear among the
bad men.
They flee in terror.
A voice
clothes the earth.
Little man sleeps on straw
or in an old shell.
Worth the world’s weight in gold.
He is forbidden the light dance of steps.
Destiny of a fairground freak.
Ordained thus.
He leaves.
And lives, despite himself,
not in the belly of whale
or shark,
but of a cow,
and uncandled.
She provides an ample and circular
cover, undergoing slow
digestions.
There are no flying boats.
Cow ploughs the earth
in her manner.
Whale enters the material
unconsciously.

He has slept in the hay.
A magnetic sleep.
Away from mechanical marriage rites.
Day has whitened.
The cow has taken him
in her stomach.
She is his night refuge.
Sun is without.
Sun Unfazeable.
It gives Main Heat
and Organs.
It mimics the unconscious cow.
She, with her circular nape.
She who triggers a curiosity.
A puppet?
Accused
like the Greek rock?
Cow is inverted glory.

Tom leaves his night refuge.
Refuge of night and covering.
Wolf eats in the Round
and gobbles Tom too.
Wolf is the new provisional house
of a little man
who dances with energy.
He dances out of Attention.
It makes a sound.
Attention-Dance.
Father wakes up.
Opens wolf’s stomach.
With profane scissors.
In the open, child of
character he bawls.
He is bound tight
against hearts.
He has traversed the wind.
Canal of ruins.
Hippity-Hoppity.


after ‘Tom Thumb’

NOISE

Evening makes a fire.
Day fades. Gone melancholy.
Man and woman weave
joy and movement,
and the life of a child in the walls.
Paradise is elsewhere.
But a child
is of paradise as idea.
Active wish in the bedroom.
Or the speaking Room.
Child is there.
Syllable-idyll.
Tom Thumb lives
by his limbs,
that is, the brain.
Mind is a limb.
Child inhabits sometimes the ear
of animals
and steers them.
He imitates them.
He is also the voice of noise.
Spreading fear among the
bad men.
They flee in terror.
A voice
clothes the earth.
Little man sleeps on straw
or in an old shell.
Worth the world’s weight in gold.
He is forbidden the light dance of steps.
Destiny of a fairground freak.
Ordained thus.
He leaves.
And lives, despite himself,
not in the belly of whale
or shark,
but of a cow,
and uncandled.
She provides an ample and circular
cover, undergoing slow
digestions.
There are no flying boats.
Cow ploughs the earth
in her manner.
Whale enters the material
unconsciously.

He has slept in the hay.
A magnetic sleep.
Away from mechanical marriage rites.
Day has whitened.
The cow has taken him
in her stomach.
She is his night refuge.
Sun is without.
Sun Unfazeable.
It gives Main Heat
and Organs.
It mimics the unconscious cow.
She, with her circular nape.
She who triggers a curiosity.
A puppet?
Accused
like the Greek rock?
Cow is inverted glory.

Tom leaves his night refuge.
Refuge of night and covering.
Wolf eats in the Round
and gobbles Tom too.
Wolf is the new provisional house
of a little man
who dances with energy.
He dances out of Attention.
It makes a sound.
Attention-Dance.
Father wakes up.
Opens wolf’s stomach.
With profane scissors.
In the open, child of
character he bawls.
He is bound tight
against hearts.
He has traversed the wind.
Canal of ruins.
Hippity-Hoppity.


after ‘Tom Thumb’
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère