Liv Lundberg:
FROM “THE CLEAR TONE” (DEN KLARE TONEN 1979)
THE CLEAR TONE (Den klare tonen)
The clear tone
the insurgents sent out
before they attacked the despot
before they were slaughtered
in the ensuing massacre
The bright
hopeful tone.
(trans.: P.T.Hopper)
ALONE NOONE (Ensom Ingen)
My fingers claw you out from the paper.
I created a fairytale, an enchanted castle.
I built you under the sun
on the world´s very first morning –
you stood there:
ALONE
I sent runners out with the four winds
to fetch fire, for you were so cold,
so cold were you beneath my kisses.
But here is:
NOONE
I cross my arms above my head
and carry my defeat carefully to the sea.
THE DISTANCE THROUGH WHICH I´M ABLE TO SEE YOU
(Avstanden jeg kan se deg gjennom)
Sleeplessness without you.
Freedom without you.
Freedom to arrive and depart,
to love and to leave and to come and make love.
I can feel it when you are close,
but I see you through a distance.
Not to take the consequences of this
is a waste
of precious love and time.
Waste is the opposite of grace.
If you have grace you have mercy.
HEART OF THE WORLD (Innerst i verden)
Love
seeps into the earth
like blood,
pierces through space
like arrows.
Love
flows into all crevices
like water,
fills all cavities
like air,
burns and cleanses
or chars and destroys
like fire.
Creates new, green sprouts
each spring
like the earth.
SNOWNIGHT (Snønatt)
I float through the snow.
The snow came at last
rushing here
in the dark. A white message.
Bridal veil.
There are crowds of people out here.
They fall in the snow.
Eyes bleeding with ice.
The light through the snow,
shining white.
Horses and children laugh.
The dogs bark.
The people jump in the cold.
Steam from fresh horse-dung
rises upwards.
It’s a really a world of snow,
at last and and I´m falling
through the white darkness.
Traces of pasts
and futures are wiped out.
Each step is separate
like letters on white paper.
Winter – a little lamb,
shakes its fleece – where did you come from,
when you came out to us?
(trans. Anne Born)
FINALLY THEY COME (Endelig kommer de)
Out of the dark
people swarm
dressed in peculiar outfits.
They carry torches, banners,
several musical instruments,
huge stuffed dolls
and different species of animals.
They sing, beckon and dance.
The noise rises towards the balcony.
I lean against the railing, tense
in my new set of clothes.
Then I run downstairs and out,
disappear in the crowd of people.
(LL)
FROM MIRROR OF HEARTS (HJERTERSPEIL 1981)
YOU 1 (Du)
My hands wander along
your contours:
The curve of your cheeks, the shoulder angle
the body´s many heights and hollows
To get a hold of your extension
to mark the boundaries of your significance
Decide where you end
and something else begins
You can’t flow out unbounded
over your surroundings
Not every possible content is yours
Your extremities connect with others’
and become meeting points
YOU 2 (Deg)
When I return home I find
you in the world and the world in you
When I sink into your eyes
When I crawl around in your body
are we a house of meeting points
A balancing act over open space
Our bodies unfold their petals
Flying soft waves trough your inner space
I am your rain your darkness, you
my blond lover, you said to me:
The only thing I want from you: You
All that I want from you: You
DRUDGERY, MISERY (Slit, ulykke…..til mine mødre)
(to my mothers)
Green herb-women aslant
across brown-striped forest paths
into the woods
– hasty as shadows of cats
Women crossing
the lifelines of males
Do they bring misery?
Male bulking fences
by the start of female developments
Yet merely rosy white girls
They end up in misery
Newborn who should be holy
talismen from the future
Herb-women in the woods
flapping shadows
with countless pockets
Babies in the river, in the marsh
Black aprons of sorrow
Lines over faces and stomach skin
Lines leading to the precipice in the eyes
Backs bent over drudgery, over joy
over the living children
The endless necessity of food
and the icy cold water for washing
Ice lumps on the firewood sticks
Deep snow surrounding the knees
The womb as the naos of pain
Points of comfort:
Fire under the brewing pan
Sunlight on the porridge grain
The animal mumbling repose
Milk of mothers and of animals
I don’t see the husband
I don’t know
if he was a heavy comfort
or a cool curse
The hard rock in the middle
or an outline –
visible but empty.
(LL)
RUSHING BROOK, TWINS (Bekkesus, tvillinger)
Childhood in a green valley
Brooks were rushing underneath the mountain
We were many children
We had many places
Flat fields in front of a stony stairway
Violet flowers by the sunburnt wall
In my childhood there was sun
When the old died
we were seated around the open coffins’
sharp wax-yellow features
When the new-born died
we got to see the pictures of small coffins
Twin graves in the churchyard
(Louis Muinzer)
BURGER’S DAUGHTER
I see clenched fists in the eyes
darkskinned movements
across the white forehead
The acute span of existence:
resistance against, acceptance of
the sole significant insight:
The road is the goal – the bridge
leads across to the country
that does not yet exist
(trans. LL)
HER (Henne)
It shines from her
In the morning her eyes are naked
Later they slip into a troll
I remember she’s been her before
Pressed up against the wall she was laughing
Like a gentle serious angel
She lives in images
She walks on roads in the air
She never waits patiently
I can’t keep hold of her
She lights red lanterns on the ice
And vanishes over the next hill
(trans. Anne Born)
MAY-BE (Kan-skje)
She might be more concerned with my words
than with beauty´s pretty shoes
She might reject the prince and the dress
and get up shiny language outfits
I hear fragile tinkling word-sounds.
Friends are coming with dandelion wine
Grandmother will open the living-room doors
put wine-glasses on the lace cloth
The sun will blink and open the windows
and fill the air with buckets of daisies
The friends lift smiles in their glasses
Children share shiny pictures and apple cider
Grandmother might well bake a pastry-cake
Grandfather might fetch wood for the stove
and smoked salmon, Uncle Thomas is likely to
bring his accordion and Ole Johan snatches
the fiddle from the wall, maybe she’ll read some poems
to the music and the cat
which purrs against our feet.
(trans. Anne Born / LL)
From “THE HOUSE OF LANGUAGE HAS OPENINGS”
(Spr}kets hus har åpninger 1982)
THE PATTERN WHICH CONNECTS (Mønstret som binder sammen)
In the beginning:
A pattern of organic energy
where sub-atomic particles
dance without known cause
dance with many steps
and huge results
all that we see and are and do
are results – in this respect
Either that’s where it will also end:
with the sub-atomic
when a sufficient number of
atoms are detonated
Or it will continue:
In the pattern which connects
all the niveaus in a single comprehension
of the one imminent god of nature
which is all
LOVELY (Vakkert)
sitting, scratching
holes in the sheat of paper
how ruthlessly
not really able to do
anything else
lovely he speaks
could come across
a beautiful day
under the paper
in the aching language
‹
THE LINGUAL HOUSE (Språkets hus)
The lingual house
has openings
The light and the wind
cast in streaks of star-littered universe,
snow crystals and chlorophyll
In the house live human beings
naturally I live here too
The house has a bloody furniture
a frenzy of violence and klillings
Yet the language speaks
as if all is normal
We are lingual animals
more dangerous than all
crossing every border
In the house live everybody I love
they have nowhere else to live
Even the ones sparkling with poetry
pulsating with redhot longings
and spinning rainbows of tender care
Even the children´s bodies
contain that house
there are no escape
While we watch each other dying
we are forced to catch the wind
stars and chlorophyll
IT’S NOT DANGEROUS (Det er ikke farlig)
It´s all about vertigo
when you grabble dizzingly
after a handshake
when your feet have not understood
their place on earth, when
the law of gravity has been upset
and the very centre is getting uncentered
When the circling motions whirr
from centrifugal fears
then you easily tip over the presipice
never having practised to fall
You´ll collide with the earth
in close contact
get dark blotches, swellings and wounds
a map over non-verbal terrain
It’s not dangerous
it´s only hurting
‹
AIKIDO (Aikido)
Kanetsuka sensei demonstrates
ai – ki – do
The body’s deep recognition
its inner strenght accompany the breathing
on its way to the movement’s complete
harmony
A fanning ray of circular movements
out from the point of gravity’s unyielding
centre
The power of the attacker is turned against
the attacker to make him realize:
His attack was an act of evil
After a demonstration of the japanese
art of defence, aikido, in Troms|, march 1982
SELFEVIDENTLY CENTRAL
Zen monks bake their black bread with no tears
shaping them selfevidently in their centre
still round forms turn to gold in the oven
crisp crusts around soft smelling heat
Zen monks eat the bread with no tears – and tea
IMAGES IN BREATH AND EARTH (Bilder i pust og jord)
Villages with church steeples
The dark trees shivering in the wind
Crests and hollows of naked bodies
Cries of anxiety and hands folded
Fluttering wings and animal tracks
In the depths of the well in space
Between the past and the future
A silent basis of language
Riddles you´ll never forget
Answers to questions nobody asked
Images laugh at our glances
Our intentions and calculations
Our causal chains and self-control
Images starved by language
Play at the bottom of weeping
Hunting here in this encounter
Beneath a pale, grey sky
Across vast snowy plains
Over soft moss and birch trees
Images are carved out on mountain walls
From longing and necessity
To navigate the dreaming
To where people work together
Give birth to each other close to the ground
Images travel in breath and earth
Through space and time
THE EARTH IS SPINNING DIZZILY (Jorda er virvlende ør)
My life nailed to yours
Thus we got common wound
and common earth
the earth is black will
and suction
I approached you
on a combination of
lack and lust
You came out from your distance
and grabbed me
the earth is spinning dizzily
in space
In this light you are
a penetrating pattern
emptying in me
earth is growing children
dreams, wars
and limits to all
OPEN, INTENT (åpen, ufravendt)
Outstreched mornings, brimfull
of affections, sensations
Your skin on the tips of my fingers
expand me into a rain of lust
Shameless and grateful
I suck in your warm time
Your body is earth and fruit
I bury my roots in you
Salty summer flows from you
open, intent, I receive
TO FIND A COMMON ENTRANCE (For å finne en felles inngang)
Love as blindman’s buff
as certain as jammed lock
and as acute
Cold seeps into all cracks
I forget you several times a day
you gather me more seldom
into your hands
The house freezes to
a bittle taste in the communication
and cold aversion in the tenderness
The room encloses in a tired movement
but nothing settles down
and nothing arises
Steps are going away in the snow
nights frosted by grief
I search for an exit
to find a common entrance:
You are human I am human
To be opposite is something else
than being averted, my beloved
“why don’t you try me tonight?”
NO MORE DELAY (Ingen utsettelse lenger)
There is no more
delay, it’s now and forever
Sadly I´m streched with the wind
leaning on the currents
mixing up bondaries
If I really was bowing down
if I really was getting up
If I swayed and danced
humbly on the ground
Who would kick me
who would spit on me?
The question is mine alone
now and forever
With my head under my arm
I forswore three times
There is something about the world
I cannot bear, one single
vast injustice I cannot endure
Where can I possibly then
invest my gratitude?
I no longer wait for an answer
I have drunk and emptied a dream
what is left achs tenderly
I’m on fire, flames dying out
here or never
PRECISELY (Nøyaktig slik)
In children killed we can see
a distinct meaning
a black truth in all bright hopes
Children die of hunger and war
and indifference
a black shadow across all faces
Children killed; as real
as lovely as your own child
a black dash across all trains of thought
Children die newborn when morning
climbs the planets’ dark range
a black rose for all ceremonies
In children killed we realize what we mean
precisely: This is what we mean
such is our world
LOGIC (Logikk)
History appears as a series of massacres
People’s pain and death create
a bond leading to the masters of earth
to the nucleus of power
A bond through the heart of the world
a particular relation a logical connection
between bloody terror and inhuman abundance:
If poverty gets hold of the little finger, it bolts down
the total hand, ruler of the world
The hand melting the earth’s fertility into gold
The Inca Indians said: “Is gold what you want?”
and poured liquid gold into the conquistadores’ throats
A pretty fatal logic
that was massacred
‹
FROM “DOUBLE EDGED ANGEL” (TVE-EGGET ENGEL 1988)
I DRIVE, QUEEN OF ICE (Jeg kjører isdronning)
I drive, Queen of Ice through winter´s ocean
behind borrowed reindeer across frozen waves
heaven’s darkness streaming like a starry mane.
Swords of northern lights are drawn before light´s
battle for the love of darkness. The sleigh
flees from winter’s heart, cold and paralyzing.
I hear the King of Winter is enraged:
He´s gnawing the icicles off stars and houses
gashing heaven´s frost with mountain peaks
he´s grinding snow breasts between icy teeth
hounding the lust of darkness with a biting whip,
and I am drunk with ice, my cheeks aflame
with fierce winter fever as spiky stars stab out
through my flesh and crystalline minerals sweat
from the depths beneath my body´s skin and hair
where light awaits naked as a bridegroom,
until darkness surrender altogether, and
day arises with its beaming lucid mind.
(trans: Susan S. Senstad)
HERE (Her)
The light surfs breakers of time
the haze of heat hangs blue clouds
in blue, let the years like a riddle
riddle themselves, I’ve forgotten
and remembered enough, now I will
be here in this where I am
Each morning awakens
new vivid days – fine!
(Trans: Susan Schwartz Senstad)
THE WORD (Ordet)
(Hommage to Sylvia)
The knife in my troat is screaming
from genitals streaming black
the blood is mine, I spill it out
over your white tactical sheets
The womb wrings in spasms
to final birth released
I am a workshop, you are a board
with the knife I’m carving out
the word I loved you with
I nail it onto a cross
twine a rope, am ready to go
but the road is steep, the word is heavy
my shoes are poor, I don’t feel much for it
my neck is painful, I wipe my mouth
with dirt, trying to forget
It’s raining and I am thirsty
Where is the house of the deaf benefactors
were the kind food sisters are serving
from steaming vocal chords
a poem of necessities
and fill up the daily wounds
with bandaging language
If you call, I´ll be busy
I lost my feelings on the spot you stood
Relatives and strangers are pushing in
Are they out to catch my full intention?
The salt, the bread, all which I lack
to silence the scream, to stem the blood
It’s flowing all over like loving
I didn’t realize that word was fatal
(trans: LL)
SONG FOR THE EVENING (Sang til kvelden)
Give us today our black bread stone
give us also a blueberry drink
and a little cod-liver oil
And a song for the sinful evening
shuffled in a patience game of desire
dreaming us awake
We are nurtured by the sky day after day
growing strong as the oceans
(LL)
EGG (Egg)
Beastly emotions sniff the layers of instincts
Crawling lust marking meeting paths
and places for mating and birth
I started with a grip of the imminent:
A finger-hook, a milk-filled breast
an ancient hunger, a centre of lust
I drifted as plant, a growing instinct
a fruit falling through landscapes and voids
crossing timespans and changing thoughts
From the womb I jumped, an egg
here I’m drifting along, a globe of pain
a point of delight, intertwined
in confusion with other voluntary
animal sacrifice
in service of greedy life
(LL)
MY REAL DAUGHTER (Min ekte datter
WORLD YOUNG verden ung)
She made a garland of her hair for the feast
and threw her tears to the wolves
She forged her sword-soul boyish
and traded feathers with time´s leaping heaven
She raced ahead to hunt the storms
and passionately kissed the skin of snow
She would fly with all the wild birds
animals and shadows, freely
to the light of wolves’ jaw, with polar bears´ pawprint
stamped into her memory
She wanted to win, as if her life were youthful
and blond and fresh and soft as stone
She stepped androgynously across the borders
toward the distinctly open inner land of ice
She would be among those who dive
she would carry death like a precious stone
She would live spreadeagled across life
be a fine-tuned instrument
against the world´s tortured, aging reason
She wished to torment cruelty
with her strong and mercy-glowing laughter
She would salvage joy
from that powerful despair
(trans: Susan S Senstad)
RAW (Ratt)
Excoriated, flayed, a steaming raw
condition, a destruction
admitted into, to exile from
the bowels, to rip open language directly
in the womb, bloody harvest festival, rage
dripping red in the white snow
God is your kin, a butcher visiting
You love the meat, raw and sliced exactly
into opening and wisdom
(LL)
DEMONS (Demonene)
Childhood failed and fell away
revengeful angels shattered /?
like black premonitions
Darkened angel heads
encroach my house, growing
more ruthless
spreading like cancer
spiteful tongues consume
my dream of fullblown garden-life
Every month I´m bleeding
like from a wound
like from grief
Gently like a flower or a woman
to soften the grim, merciless memory
with a sacrificial grail
I scythe till my hands are blistering
my back cracking into screams
moreand more I resemble them
The demons are my gift of genius
I realize I am chosen
and barred in
(LL)
WHERE IT IS (Der det er)
Cannot live there
in darkness against the heart
pumping with black blotches
Must get out and let it be told
even though it cannot be seen
and not heard
So dark it cannot be touched
by anything I know
(LL)
DAD (Far)
What is the connection:
Your body in the ground – and my
lover’s sporadic adultery?
The connection, dad?
What is a man?
Who am I?
This is the end, daddy
and I should have been your father
from the beginning
White, smooth face
Smiling coffin in the organ peal
of death, dad, saved
from the jaw of life
which consumed your body
with decaying oblivion
I see you released
so free, noone can know how free
father, my origin, semen
Some resistance I cannot know
an unwanted tale
Your tender sadness kept still
Matrimony cannot be washed away
from earth to earth
Now you have nothing
Your desire locked into
your averted glance
on my mother!
I watched your submission
I did not go near your gentle ways
in my most frozen moment
dizzyingly: Liv!
Remote and rejected
I refused you to be loved by me
You adored the joyous and bright
I accepted, I accept
outside me, only my skin
now, you are dead
So much death your childhood
too many dead to survive
too much to lose, and me
too tiny for your history
With what was I to be growing?
I grew by myself, inwards
contained in the body, so free
you have no idea how free
My wildgrowing thoughts
no pain, no wounds to lick
only the emptiness squeaking
Now, at last, the pure body
of pain, my inner darkness
confronts its scream
Decaying dad still alive
the earth is black, finished at last
I should have been your father
and lay you down
like an early lost child
I now have found dead
You, who could not, in chilly earth
among whispering trees, whispering soul
blessed, poor – peace
such I’ve been fighting my sense
Now, I´ll lay down a feeling
on your grave, as my answer
(LL)‹
A HOLE IN THE SKY (Hull i himmelen)
The earth is a hole in the sky
a hole casting shadow
The moon tilts on the brink of a cloud
The wind whispers about heavenly secrets
Life is to open words on blank pages
and invest in stars for the berieved
The moon is nodding, coming too late and too early
in the rhythm we suffer from and to which we make love
Heaven has its empty apartment
to lodge our dubious prayer
it always answers it never gets quiet
in the Word of God, our hound howls to its grave
(LL)
A HOUND FOR THE FROST (En hund etter frosten)
I was a hound after frost
I growled and gnawed the ice bone clean
My master lashed the whip over my back
Stuck and leashed, I howled and cried
While he mated me with one of them
The birth made me accessible
And opened wolves’ jaws of hot revenge
The killing of the puppies was a massacre
I never will forget I loved them
I pulled the sleigh with puppy corpses
Across the drift ice of my Inner Arctic
beneath the Northers lights´ blue polished swords
And forth until the time´s open mouth
pointed out a new road home
to the starry bitter, bright sharp sweetness
(LL)
BUZZING ANGELS (Englene som svirrer)
1.
The angel in my home behind the stone
with red light flames and glass-flower teeth
dancing skin in the eyes and wings intertwined
laughs and laughs and laughs
and it scares me
till my death
2.
You rasp my smooth surface with your lust
I rise, confident sleepwalker
and set the music adrift
night after night like departures
I have built and burnt an angel
an ice coast and loved nobody
3.
A scatterbrained angel so close
to the day which is burning your wings
an everyday magpie, a silver-snatcher
chasing after glitter
flapping impudent with wag-tail
and black white tricks
Solves the twinkling riddles of day
and opens my eyes
to the insatiable fall
when the wild rouge will pale
to white
and the angel shall fall
4.
Sick of knocking on blackened suns
Tired of sinking into flaring cold oblivion
Painful to look with the closed eye reopened
The point of pain vibrates and burns, a mark stamped
on the bull´s brow, I fly in a peak
like a self-seducing flame
The angel has left me
the angel could not find me
(LL)
LIVING TO DEATH (Levende til d|d)
Chasing hands fingering
into blind alley stimulus
urges are sniffing their way
To leathergeared screams of sensation
seductive whiplashes puncture
sprawling fleshy glances
Lust for the innermost wisdom
to conceptualize completely
all alive to death
“STONE DREAMT” (STEINDR\MT 1985)
I.
a grey green glance
slowly stopped the rain
into ice
in the eye
a closed up mirror
opens its dark
person
horror stricken
*
hazard
black
core of resistance
an opus
of dread
plucking the strings
autumn extinguished
the precious trees
and the children
have turned to black spikes
(sss)
*
darkness expresses
its point
silently
the ice has stuck
to my clothes
I cut
into everything grown
over my head
*
I have
smoothed my skin
into smiles
cut my glance
to insight
staring mirror
of doubt
I sliced my heart
to make sense
*
face at the foot of
a towering
precipice
the altitude increases
your resistance
*
a face
in my mouth
that never has spoken
higher
than light
stars are cracking
you tread
for your life
is moving you slowly
*
the snow has put
its eye
on mine
my mouth is freezing
I light
a fire
in dreaming
*
ice, mirror
and scrapings
in the oral cavity
a tongue
licking
winter to images
*
dark poems
flared out
into a cold life
throbbing mountain
in my eye
a gap
to be filled
stone grate
in
*
I’m writing
the snow
god of snow
my skin of stone
writing snow
points of stone
messages
tiny parcels of
stony peace
*
stone head, hit
down
your days
a child
in your hand
a piece of bread
*
tangled up
in frost and snow
be still
a petrified inferno
the hands clenched
cold
against darkness
grimly, without grief
down to the last
salt frozen
heaven´s grip
grid of
snow pinnacles
point of no pain
(LL)
*
a stone
to end up with
after all shadows
a place
till the earth ends
a stone
to bow one’s thoughts to
all snow
reminiscent of
earth shall vanish
a thought
of stone
a place to begin
(sss)
‹
II.
images
in the snow
is this a face
to recognize
trampled flat
anatomy of cold
knocked out in my heart
open gaps
around the images
falling
stone dreamed
*
invaluable
fear
the childhood before
you burst
the waves question
the childhood
you have forgotten
*
stone in my mouth
shame
so poor is no one here
in this house of
black
winter trees
*
mother down
ruins
father loving
always
*
empty presences
buried
in the air
around me, holes
the lack ahead of me
future
*
stony eye
blind
in the self portrait
cannot see
the suicide
open cracks the light
*
blazing agents
faces against disquiet
behind glass
upholstered
strapped
through forever
*
stone out
the cracks in the chest
desperate
assaults
flicking like knives
cutting
like smiles
you´re going to regret
*
mountains
what are they waiting for
a closed human being
shattered
belongs to the dreams
the power
suddenly dangerous
may see
what I am
*
everywhere body
you may belong to
everybody
I gamble
to win
*
my breath
one winter
among other mountains
I’m high, high
on snow and labyrinths
unappeasable stone
*
metal dark
nights
taste of
salty hearts
dreamdrifting
light
*
night and naked
silence in the doorway
snow infants
scent of nocturnal stones
sisters of the body
exchange
skin
for cold
*
the mountain out
greedy
to be
filled
into everywhere
I am afraid, I want to
*
winter desire
through ice
holes wrenched
to blade of sword
my head in ruins
has lost
its heaven
*
to slide erotic
stone
through all the veins
through web of breasts
and thrusts
of hips
one enclosed moment
I slide
from hours
*
mounting heat
reason
an encounter
is entering
into blossoming cities
fountains of words
nights
crash
crying in love with
the fragile bridges
cobble-stoned
*
snow
in the glance of mine
shaking in mountains
the lustre
mountain-peaks thrust
into me
capricorn
*
lover of cold
trembling
with black eyes
stone life I do not
regret
spills into my hand
two beasts wake me
in the nude
(LL)
III.
no salvation
or seduction
only
the truth
of my moments
a cultivated frost form
in a stone garden
the moon
above the mountain
beneath the mountain
one second
in the avalanche
my face
(sss)
*
I am pure
winter
radiantly free
for as long as I go
I am volontary
distance
on the horizon
and understand
the long road
of the winter
*
light
in confusion with
stone
on your open
morning
the darkness blue
over town
dew-dripping
stone
on the verge of
an inkling, a grasp
*
mild
still, wide
white and wild
the silence
is filled with sound
a town
in which to look for
the mountain
further along
*
rock sliding
tumbling
images
into my legs
walked out
as delight
on the horizon’s
skin
*
snow laughter
blows the breath
to certainty
mountain as lights
above depths
angel steps
‹
*
it is stoned
stars, angels
blown free
writing burnt
to a point
stoned out
from the silence
onto the roads
where the world walks
stone marked
open
*
stone in my mouth
golden stone
no one can crush
between teeth
cut with a knife
stone with my mouth
in golden sand
one word in the air
on starry feet
(LL)
stone head, hit
stone eye, look
how much I can do
untrue
stone tongue
lick me
pure and salt
and saltier, bird
like seaweed
on skin
a pure glance
a black light
into the depths
we disappear
(sss)
*
IV.
through the darkness
with you
my stone glance
my stone man´s
hard lips
kiss the sole life
in me
only thus
am I given
feeling
in stone
(sss)
*
empty one border
desire
cannot swim
the throat
flowerblack
I am
dedicated
to death, stone
*
‹
you ignite
fires in the pain
of frankness
burn the eye
to transformation
in pain
of lust
melting the stone
*
rings in stones
off
over ridges of heaven
all is affected
in the winters’ raving mad
infatuation
*
the dream I was flying
like tones
so far
my passion
captured
a mountain
in me alone
was a core
now I’m sober
as drunken
into the mountain
and out
*
in the stone
is a swordsboy
on his way out
my soul divided
a slash of stone
like silver
sword heaven
*
I am still here
stars
dissolved
I saddle
and mount
beneath morning glory
and ride into golden
disappearance
*
daughter of stone
chasing light
imprints of the beast
on watch
stone skin your scream
the truth of frost
in the well
two birds like tears
at bottom
the stone is yours