Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Peter Verhelst

chorus of laughter

We build an abyss

with averted faces, quietly at first,
then as rhythmically as clapping, finally open-mouthed – we hold
our bellies tight and bend double, someone’s already
rolling off the stage, while the audience keeps the beat,
arms in the air, a sea of lighter flames – it’s been a long time

since we could let ourselves go so completely forgetting everything
around us, so good to do this together – the laughter turns
to crying that will never end

and in that very instant we stop.

But what is drawn into that silence
out of eyes and out of the floor, ceiling and walls,

warm, sticky, gushing, unstaunchable,

ancient, swirling, a deep orange-red,

out of armpits, noses, pores, genitals, the corners of eyes,

rustling, rippling, whispering,

what of ours
is dripping from us

into the hot, wet, fleshy, slippery funnel of that abyss?

LACHKOOR

LACHKOOR

We bouwen een afgrond

met afgewend gezicht, eerst stilletjes,
dan ritmisch als handgeklap, uiteindelijk met open mond – we houden
onze buik vast en vouwen ons dubbel, één rolt al
van het podium af, terwijl de zaal het ritme blijft aangeven,
armen in de lucht, een zee van vlammetjes – lang geleden

dat we ons zo konden laten gaan dat we alles om ons heen
konden vergeten, zo goed dat wij dat samen doen – het lachen gaat over
in gehuil dat nooit meer zal ophouden

en net op dat moment houden we op.

Maar wat zuigt zich in die stilte
uit ogen en uit vloer, plafond en wanden,

warm, kleverig, gulpend, niet te stelpen,

oeroud, kolkend, diep oranjerood,

uit oksels, poriën, ooghoeken, neus, geslacht,

ruisend, lispelend, fezelend,

wat van ons
druipt van ons af

in de vlezige, natte, hete, gladde trechter van de afgrond?
Close

chorus of laughter

We build an abyss

with averted faces, quietly at first,
then as rhythmically as clapping, finally open-mouthed – we hold
our bellies tight and bend double, someone’s already
rolling off the stage, while the audience keeps the beat,
arms in the air, a sea of lighter flames – it’s been a long time

since we could let ourselves go so completely forgetting everything
around us, so good to do this together – the laughter turns
to crying that will never end

and in that very instant we stop.

But what is drawn into that silence
out of eyes and out of the floor, ceiling and walls,

warm, sticky, gushing, unstaunchable,

ancient, swirling, a deep orange-red,

out of armpits, noses, pores, genitals, the corners of eyes,

rustling, rippling, whispering,

what of ours
is dripping from us

into the hot, wet, fleshy, slippery funnel of that abyss?

chorus of laughter

We build an abyss

with averted faces, quietly at first,
then as rhythmically as clapping, finally open-mouthed – we hold
our bellies tight and bend double, someone’s already
rolling off the stage, while the audience keeps the beat,
arms in the air, a sea of lighter flames – it’s been a long time

since we could let ourselves go so completely forgetting everything
around us, so good to do this together – the laughter turns
to crying that will never end

and in that very instant we stop.

But what is drawn into that silence
out of eyes and out of the floor, ceiling and walls,

warm, sticky, gushing, unstaunchable,

ancient, swirling, a deep orange-red,

out of armpits, noses, pores, genitals, the corners of eyes,

rustling, rippling, whispering,

what of ours
is dripping from us

into the hot, wet, fleshy, slippery funnel of that abyss?
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
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