Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Sonja vom Brocke

HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE

We’re slipping away
watering 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

MENSENMEUTE HALFAPENBIJL

We glijden weg
begieten 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 

MENSCHENSEILSCHAFT HALBAFFENBEIL

Wir entgleiten
begießen 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
Close

HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE

We’re slipping away
watering 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

HUMAN ROPE TEAM PROSIMIAN AXE

We’re slipping away
watering 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
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère