in my throat there sits a lump that clumps every lay into a lie. if i cry out: it's he who
Is it cruel to eat,
To eat what someone makes up,
Who has come from the mountains
LA PALLIDA MORTE
Odourless yet like blossom
Death is grasped through the
Nostrils. Square silent
Presence and absence.
Me yielding under his weight.
a vessel with no lid
like an odd bowl or a deep dish
thrown away in a vacant
Destiny rolls over me. Sometimes like an egg. Sometimes
with its paws, slamming me into the
— For the lacquer painter Tang Mingxiu
Living next door,
Briceida Cuevas Cob
your breasts are two little girls jostling each other in play when you wash.
The Vatican Church with reference to this
– Secret secreted by its murky lips- –
Rome: an open city A lager
Down the catwalk troop the fashions
Of the millennium,
Its face dark from pining,
The lake lies placid and still
A few days ago,
you prick up your ears to the blue of the sea, leap over the surrounding fence
The united textile mills en marche
The aorta & the arse & the hole
Here now along the long deep water
that I thought that I thought that you
I did not know then when I was capturing and killing bugs like a god,
when I was scampering
In the water
in silence at your side
in a fire that draws us close
I drift –
under orders from my ancestors you were occupied
had I language I could write for you were land
Can you save ‘together’? Can you by doing much intensely as a couple
Why do I find you attractive? I listen at your door.
I let your clothes run through my hands
Some persons just by staying alive cause us discomfort. Such a man does not harm us, does not
LANDSCAPE WITH FATHER
Willem van Toorn
Sprawled flat on your back
you’ve become the hills, the banks
of scrub and stubbly
One white bird on a green river, two
and then three.
One electric pole, two,
Shachar Mario Mordechai
I am snared in the language trap
between strong emotion and a lazy tongue
Geert van Istendael
Speak, city, speak!
Stretch your countless tongues up to the sky,
Language says: Before Language
there stands a language. Language is tainted
The author’s willful over-insistencies
couldn’t save this poem. Vague, casting
LARGE AS THE WORLD
By some turn, obscure, of the season,
Each part of my body turned
Into an animal or bird;
My dear Theo
The chromatic circle in Arles
finally caught me
and I do not
What kind of a poet is he, they ask.
I said: “I am a poet of earth and space,
She was trapped under the rubble of a building.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t afford a big
LATE AT NIGHT
Water in the roots
of the day’s arduous collar
plunging in the
The wind declines nothing. Nobody
bears witness to the witness. Only
Just that one cloud we saw,
in nothing ever resembling anything else,
suddenly appearing like
In poems it always looks different.
When I read sentences written by others,
LAUDATOR TEMPORIS ACTI
Chafed because she breathes a noxious air,
Europe, wallowing in baths and banquets,
I will not let sorrow sit still
today in my home
Pushing it into my jhola
Finally, I’m losing touch
with my laughter.
Often it is missing in the right places,
Thoughts go on their way
but not their own way
like a lawnmover goes ahead of
LAY ME DOWN
She asked: change me
into a stone. Or better still:
a prehistoric bone.
Sonja vom Brocke
a Lunatica cobbled together
from shorthand trunk and bones
; only as vocabulary
LE VIEUX MOULIN
Jos De Haes
Is a well amid wet grass the road abuts.
A layer of humus where oak beams once stood
9 GOUSBLOM STREET
LEAD US, SON OF TAMBO!
Do lend me your ears, people of my land
Lend me your ears and I will
LEARN ME BY HEART
Learn me by heart this evening,
Then lie down and go to sleep.
In the morning, when you
Windows, Love, will replace themselves one night purely
through the wish to open them.
on the city streets – if you know how to look – beautiful women
stroll naked take
Let the poems teach me how to leave them.
I’d watch the beautiful people passing by on
The spear thrust in front of the pavilion
announced that the Khan was seriously ill.
LEGAL ACTIVITIES 1 & 2
Ester Naomi Perquin
Wake them up at the start of the night
and ask for dreams.
A Spanish princess
walks among us.
You do not see her,
do not hear her,
LEGEND OF THE SNOW
And then, the snow finally started to fall
After the wind and rain and sand
A stork has one leg.
A ladder, two.
A tripod has tri pods.
A fly, says Aristotle,
Unable to withstand the sweetness that wells up within
When I think of a
Leopard by the brain-stem
listens to the radio wind
knowing, not knowing.
He lifts a
LESSON IN METER
A steel comb uncurls
the notes, swirls
a sweet music of cotton
candy. Like a
LEST WE FORGET
As long as we do not forget, then nothing will be lost.
So let’s forget, but
LET ME BE
to simply masturbate at home
in a standard
anyone can do
I have almost started this poem
“Long time ago”.
With this displacement into
Today I was to write you a letter
a letter in which I wanted to understand something
The letter is in the sorting office
A letter which, if delivered,
will gather together
LETTER FROM A BLIND MAN
I never knew you.
There you were without
That black spot in me
Being aware, a
LETTER TO BA
Wearing the blue jeans you bought me
I sit down to write to you
After a long
LETTER TO SAMMY
You’d be so proud of me now,
in a bra, black lace over swaying
white flesh, in one hand a
LETTERS AT SEA
They’re read and read repeatedly,
Though readers sensed already what was there,
LETTING MYSELF GO
Only yesterday I was forty-nine.
Today, the first morning of April, 1977,
I looked for my
LET’S PRESS THE NIGHT
when our pain
is still young
and we go
Stefano Dal Bianco
When I lie down on the carpet in the hall and look up, sometimes there is a fly
There will be an instant in which the light of the known will be withdrawn, and the dust of
LI BAI AND DU FU
The China National Art Museum.
Li Bai and Du Fu domineer at opposite corners of the lobby.
Knowledge flowed between us.
I am Cuirithir.
God goes halves in
we search for the most esoteric knowledge
climb ladders to reach highest sections in the
I was sitting in the library reading room, the great hall
by a huge table, absolutely alone,
Carlos de Oliveira
like a square
you must do all you can to stay calm
a plot detail like the act of vomiting
suspends its arc
begins and ends
(perhaps by chance?)
the luminous track
the wake that
When day broke
Light quickly flooded into
Every little crevice of the bushes
life is a vacancy
inhabited by people
male and female
he sketched a vase.
He drew a flower in the vase.
Perfume rose from
I’ve cherished it
as a brown candy from my childhood.
I licked it and immediately
LIFE A LA CARTE
“The poet invokes chance”
At the rescue of the
What planet are you from, stranger?
You have an outer space violin in your left ear
000000 0000 01
011010 111 001
101011 101 001
110011 0011 01
Jan H. Mysjkin
Pick the flowers of the greenback-tree (dollartræet) and make them
into a garland
We wanted light more light
so we cut the tree down its longing
stood in the way of
While the light attempts to
uncoil, the city is rebellious,
the terror has outlived
there is light
and something in that light
LIGHT A CANDLE
Light a candle,
Softly the Sabbath has plucked
the sinking sun.
Sapardi Djoko Damono
A hanging light bulb burns bright in the room. The man
for Bernard Noël
as though a layer existed between
LIGHTNESS OF THE NIGHT
and I was dreaming of something riveting me to night then coffee and crüesli . . .
I landed on a lily and entered the calyx
down a spiral staircase of slender smells.
LIKE A HANGING JUG
Like a hanging jug
No drink is pouring off me
It’s natural to be numbed gradually
LIKE A POLYPTYCH
Like a polyptych that's opened up
And the story's there inside
LIKE A TABLETOP SHINING
In bed we stare the clothes off
of each other on the floor,
a dress a shirt, nothing
LIKE AN OWL
The streamlined feathers of the owl
ensure the silence of its approach,
a silent glide
I’ve been like Beirut,
constructed of the unlike in the like
and of the exact
LIKE FLAVOUR OF FRUIT
like stars in the sky
fish in the water
oxygen in the air
in the same way on this
“A Hunger Artist”,
but before Dora rushed out
my darling noonday, the magnolia drops her gaze, serenely dreaming
she dreams of me standing on
LIMITS OF PATIENCE
Do not drive me
beyond my patience
have you not seen the signs?
María Clemencia Sánchez
Here are all the heavens
I have never visited
the nightmare of trains at night
The lioness is my love for you, the tawny lioness
with her golden skin, her golden eyes.
My grandfather was born in the land of Arak
where lions with combed manes
lay posed as
Full of grey and white buildings this port,
New houses abandoned half-way,
Her mobile phone buzzes again.
On a late summer afternoon on Rua Garrett
she sits with
LISBON IN THE FOG
Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão
In the fog the city, drunk,
staggers and falls.
Formless, the buildings
lose their place
LIST OF CIVIC SONGS
Maarten van der Graaff
Tonight I want to talk to a fascist.
By soft light and beer, on Europe
and on bosses,
LIST OF RITUALS
Maarten van der Graaff
Douse a grey Astra in cognac.
Take a grey Astra to Umbria.
Stop in Umbria, out of the
Mercy, Nontsizi, renowned for your chanting,
your poems are the nation’s bounty.
Herman De Coninck
your sweaters & your white & red
scarves & your stockings & your panties
Cardo was born
but not expected
his mother was sixteen
LITTLE GRAIN OF SAND
Grain little grain of sand
pebble rolled in my hand
pebble thrust in my pocket
LITTLE GREEN SPADE
A little green spade is my hound.
I hold it tightly in my hand.
I hardly ever put it in
LITTLE KOREAN SONG
María Clemencia Sánchez
The heart will follow
the timeless path of joy,
the breeze bringing the murmur
Sometimes I remember you, little Ruth,
We were separated in our distant childhood and they
LITTLE SON ASLEEP
During a typical weekday afternoon,
a century’s dispatched outside.
Your sleep is
María Clemencia Sánchez
is finding silence.
It is softening
the shoemaker’s hammerings,
LITTLE TAPS ON THE KNEE
i tap my knees, there is a land collapsing. listen.
this land is like a saturday night that
Fly, fly up! I see now
how small you are,
bushes, trees I do not know
are on both
I can’t survive without
LIVING OUTDOORS IN WINTER
We missed you only when your departure could no longer be delayed.
Later that day breaking
They’ll meet the three intents of life
around the corner: embers from an old
LJUBLJANA IS ASLEEP
In red chaos a new humanity
is approaching! Ljubljana is asleep.
Europe is dying in a
In us lies preserved what perished, to me the task
(an end) of sticking it to the wall like a
Pedro Arturo Estrada
Welcome, perfect unreality,
dilution of certainty in angelic smokes, mirage,
I’ve never met the lodgers of my life.
I’ve never known when they come in or out,
LOGIC IN LOVE
‘Roses’ as a set is different
than that of what are not called roses
just like ‘I’ and
Nyk de Vries
I met Lois Lester in 1956 and realised immediately that he was a strange character. We were walking
Raúl Gómez Jattin
Beyond the night that twinkles in childhood
Even beyond my first memory
is Lola – my
reality is part of my nature
spring has accepted the overflowing green of the dead again
A celebration, the family circle
and we wish all to be as one or else
Joke van Leeuwen
The man of ash says, take my urn
by my waist, that’s right, like that
don’t scatter me
I’d like to speak of this memory…
but it’s so faded now…as though nothing is left—
being chewed by the crocodile structured the eve of this poem
in dreams the terrifyingly
LONGING FOR WINTER
Hubert van Herreweghen
Too much thick leafiness
too few branches as yet
too little skinniness
LOOKING AT MOUNTAINS
Dirk van Bastelaere
When the Swiss evening falls,
backlit behind the billowing white of curtains
the mountain is
are sitting on a comfortable seat in a first-class compartment.
The older mouse is
LORD OF LIGHTNING
Juan Diego Tamayo
The sea’s surf announces winds of fury
and everything is visible in the celestial heart.
Sonja vom Brocke
The doctor phantom on the terrace. If you slip out of your shoes now
will the serpent protect
Something in me repeats in an obsessive beat
that I may have lost something
of longing dissolved
in absence does not seek
its way home
Rui Pires Cabral
Friends carried off by life
are the most difficult to appease, the most
LOST THINGS, FOUND HOPES
For Nietzsche, hope was the beginning of loss.
But we can be even more radical:
LOTS AND LOTS
Tsutomu and Isamu—
Those names were popular among boys back then
The cloud laughed with the window
then it fell,
what will they say
if our love
stays above the waist?
Will their childish games
I’m a man
who murdered love
and with his own two
Embraces flow down like water,
A night-light parts our shadow . . .
Not a sacrifice, not
Thus, I suddenly
catch myself in the mirror
in a stifling embrace
while I project
The sky lies flat on the ground,
invisible and solid.
You are dressed in the
After all, life could be lost at any moment
So why ask after the umbrella or the shoes
I loved him. The weather was nice. I come to
his door and ring the bell.
The woman had never had it done to her before.
The man, just like a brand-new
The chest all made of paulownia,
how terribly light it is.
No matter what we may say, Taizhen
is no longer with us.
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
him and I: love at first sight
due to excess yearning
this slice of romance only lasted a day
I will clothe myself in your voice, in your voice, and invisibly I will go out into the street. I
What we learnt of love was from novels, stories, and poems. With poverty, frustration, and
Love letters surpass a lover who’s gone.
Once the letters have arrived, it’s quite enough:
LOVE OF NATURE
Peter van Lier
Nonchalantly I walk among some trees. Naturally with
hands behind my back.
From time to
Dark wings brush us, last night
a big spot of blood fell onto the earth
all day it couldn’t get any better as all day
we are stuffed little men
Jorge Gaitán Durán
We are like those that love each other.
When undressing we discover two monstrous
A fat man and a fat woman kiss in the supermarket.
Their juicy, pinky tongues
Oh miserable patrons of the concert hall,
I watch you as you listen to a piano piece
Jorge Gaitán Durán
We confronted the body nakedly
like two mistaken angels,
like two red suns in a dark
Al love is born within love
grows larger in its belly
spreads into its space, inhabits
Taking distance and leave is the horny metaphysics
Of men who keep their love hot and moist
I am caught between the sun and moon.
Between the sun of Troy and Achilles
Eyebrows raised at some youth’s youthful ways,
on a broken armchair
A day of frozen lakes, in February the sun reigns only in shy glints, and the silence is on its way
When Easter arrives and the sky becomes kinder
but everyone becomes more intense, saying,
I was a vineyard watchman
and descended at the end of the vintage from the hut
The night is very busy
who always misses the target,
consumed by love like a match,
LULLABY FOR THE SLEEPLESS
Geert van Istendael
Can you see the chimney-pots on the roofs, at night?
They hang by threads, which you can’t
At lunchtime on September 16, 2001,
I squatted on the grass of the riverbank
If I could study something
I’d like to specialise
in the lung, in the ultimate
every day as the chimneys belch smoke
he comes riding to work on his
the bite between the thighs comes from lust
that a knife often cannot cut loose
Parisian apartment houses fear neither wind nor imagination
– they’re ponderous
I separate for a moment the water in the ditch: I don’t want to see the reflection any more,
Your lyricism is like a doll,
You take its dress off and put it on, you comb it,