Poem
Sonja vom Brocke
HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE
We’re slipping awaywatering the nymph temperature
conquering weak plant growth
a calcified nomen in the drain
the hip joints on
Golden Rain!
A sleepy, ticking egg.
Would that you, woman, and we other erasers
would meet the curses
alertly and at the same time in slow motion.
Let us gather scattered stubby platelets
in the pockets of our white coats
they’ll yield
lovingly nest
exhausted and laying in phlegm
still full of ether confused with heavenly poison
alone and in one, their care.
Which will help us in a more terrible time.
Having come through, softer to permanence.
While heated teenie choirs race
through space
blindly petrifying in fright
of the sun – it’s brighter than you think! –
and themselves.
The charred ones. Shorn of all but tentacles
they wave to their relations
and tap keys to each other:
seahorse, seahorse, you
perhaps the glowing heat was
another way of being taken away
another way of being taken away
From the farewell note of a young women which once came into my hands.
MENSENMEUTE HALFAPENBIJL
We glijden wegbegieten de nimfentemperatuur
veroveren zwak gewas
’n nomen gegoten in gips
heupgewrichten opwaarts
daalderregen!
’n slaperig, tikkend ei.
Dat jij, vrouw, en wij, de andere wissers,
nijver en in slow motion tegelijk
de vloeken tegemoet gaan.
Stoppen we in onze jaszak zomaar
wat vormloze plakjes
ze zullen meegeven
in der minne nestelen
uitgeput en in flegma leggen
nog vol van ether, van slag door ’t hemelse geschenk
alleen en in een, hun zorg.
In bar en bozere tijden zal ze ons bijstaan.
Gedrongen, softer in den duur.
Door het heelal jagen intussen
hitsige teeniekoortjes
verstarren blindelings van schrik
voor de zon – die feller is dan je denkt! –
en zichzelf.
De verkoolden. Nog oplossen tot tentakels
dan wenken ze hun aanverwanten
en tikken elkaar aan:
zeepaardje, hé, zeepaardje,
eventueel was die gloed
een ander soort ophalen
‘Een ander soort ophalen’ trof ik aan in een afscheidsbrief van een jonge vrouw die ik ooit in handen kreeg.
MENSCHENSEILSCHAFT HALBAFFENBEIL
Wir entgleitenbegießen die Nymphentemperatur
erobern schwaches Gewächs
ein verkalktes Nomen im Abguss
die Hüftgelenke auf
Talerregen!
Ein schläfriges, tickendes Ei.
Dass du, Frau, und wir anderen Radierer
regsam und in Zeitlupe zugleich
den Flüchen begegnen.
Sammeln wir in der Kitteltasche zerstreute
stummelige Plättchen
sie werden nachgeben
liebend nisten
erschöpft und in Phlegma legen
himmelsgiftwirren Äthers noch voll
allein und in eins, ihre Sorge.
Sie wird uns helfen in ärgerer Zeit.
Gedrungen, softer zur Dauer.
Durchs All jagen indessen
hitzige Teeniechöre
erstarren blindlings im Schreck
vor der Sonne – sie ist heller, als man denkt! –
und sich selbst.
Die Verkohlten. Entheben noch zu Tentakeln
dann winken sie ihren Verwandten
und tippen einander zu:
Seepferdchen, Seepferdchen, du
eventuell war die Glut
eine andere Art des Abholens
© 2015, Sonja vom Brocke
From: Venice singt
Publisher: kookbooks, Berlin
From: Venice singt
Publisher: kookbooks, Berlin
‘andere Art des Abholens’
Aus dem Abschiedsbrief einer jungen Frau, der mir einmal in die Hände fiel.
Poems
Poems of Sonja vom Brocke
Close
HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE
We’re slipping awaywatering the nymph temperature
conquering weak plant growth
a calcified nomen in the drain
the hip joints on
Golden Rain!
A sleepy, ticking egg.
Would that you, woman, and we other erasers
would meet the curses
alertly and at the same time in slow motion.
Let us gather scattered stubby platelets
in the pockets of our white coats
they’ll yield
lovingly nest
exhausted and laying in phlegm
still full of ether confused with heavenly poison
alone and in one, their care.
Which will help us in a more terrible time.
Having come through, softer to permanence.
While heated teenie choirs race
through space
blindly petrifying in fright
of the sun – it’s brighter than you think! –
and themselves.
The charred ones. Shorn of all but tentacles
they wave to their relations
and tap keys to each other:
seahorse, seahorse, you
perhaps the glowing heat was
another way of being taken away
From: Venice singt
another way of being taken away
From the farewell note of a young women which once came into my hands.
HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE
We’re slipping awaywatering the nymph temperature
conquering weak plant growth
a calcified nomen in the drain
the hip joints on
Golden Rain!
A sleepy, ticking egg.
Would that you, woman, and we other erasers
would meet the curses
alertly and at the same time in slow motion.
Let us gather scattered stubby platelets
in the pockets of our white coats
they’ll yield
lovingly nest
exhausted and laying in phlegm
still full of ether confused with heavenly poison
alone and in one, their care.
Which will help us in a more terrible time.
Having come through, softer to permanence.
While heated teenie choirs race
through space
blindly petrifying in fright
of the sun – it’s brighter than you think! –
and themselves.
The charred ones. Shorn of all but tentacles
they wave to their relations
and tap keys to each other:
seahorse, seahorse, you
perhaps the glowing heat was
another way of being taken away
another way of being taken away
From the farewell note of a young women which once came into my hands.
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