Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Born 1957 in Copenhagen, Denmark
Living in Højby, Denmark
http://2tongues.blogspot.com
Contact the poet

 

Orthoorama



59 solar eclipses tall
the permafrostbear growls down
a stone face

one bridge after the other never to turn on the turmeric finger

still recovering from birth
I live
under my hair

turn to swallows to snow to salt out where the ocean's lost

slowly outgrowing
the state of perpetual
innocence

looking back until the white in your eyes becomes space

talking to clouds
she brings just one
mercury pill

deep inside its head the whale grows a tree

knead light into a bowl
and then … the melatonin-angel
scatters

by the far end of your gaze neurons become deserts

Ygdrasil  VOL XXIV, Issue 9, Number 281 September 2016

 

Mothology
- or Dr. Magnificus Schuster's Orchestral Rehearsal at the Morgue


moth driven

the glacier stops
by the Sunday china

not many can do that blow and suck in light through a trumpet

half her hip is a galaxy
leather fingers count all the 1's
in an eel

a faint flicker in the non-person and revolution eats itself

Schuster's Asylum
each child's head filled with soil
and dolphins

until Time gets here let's build cones of sand

indivisible
the snap of the fingers
round midnight

the largest ear in orbit zooms in on questions about horses

a noise in the next room
Schuster conducts an orchestra
of radium beetles

it's a story in which you put needles into smokedolls

she gets away
the girl with a copper beech
growing inside her

to start a hill first dig a hole in another place

Ygdrasil  VOL XXIV, Issue 9, Number 281 September 2016

 

Blues Man Ogre Hands Jr.'s Long Afternoon

paralysing heat
fingers merge with the neck
of a guitar

if I had it from the start I wouldn't know what it's like to not have it

selling his shoes to the devil
the devil now
walks

for the magic hairs on peach skin a 3 chord waltz

a tower of mosquitoes
and on the last one
we build a church

off in the distance a rumbling like the ultimate chord

trusting the creek
we believe in the man
who once stood still

when the chorus comes round again flay the goat

with trees attached to it
a holy place
becomes a phone book

that's the cure for rot turning the guitar upside down

on a nail in his third eye
the crow
he once was

come time come rain the bottle fills the bottle

in Area 51
the birth of
Almond Shaped Eye Blues

they all agree “it's like he wasn't even there”

by bridges
at crossroads and stations
Jr. leaves his signed hats

“Hark, ye angels, hookers and creeps Ogre Hands' Eternal Blues!”

Ygdrasil  VOL XXIV, Issue 9, Number 281 September 2016

 

nothing like this a city around it

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

wavelicked and then taken out

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

see in a mirror in a riddle the mirrored riddle

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

close to a wall my eyes are full of bricks

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

uncurling the night through a mighty trumpet

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

a million incantations then a puddle of night sky

Otoliths issue forty-two, southern winter, 2016

 

always measured against the impossible cornflower

 Sonic Boom  1, December 2014

 

between nights a palimpsest of light's scribbles

 Sonic Boom  1, December 2014

 

hardly enough for a v geese in a /

Sonic Boom  1, December 2014

 

108 maha-mantras
that's the circumference
of this (w)hole

Sonic Boom  2, April 2015 

 

archetypo

 Sonic Boom  2, April 2015

 

when guilt has a face tenderness

 Sonic Boom  2, April 2015

 

not a sign of elevated consciousness just mild nausea

Sonic Boom  2, April 2015

 

identity train
I get on as soon
as I get off

 Sonic Boom  3, August 2015

 

 

vedada

Sonic Boom  3, August 2015 

 

escapistol

 Sonic Boom  3, August 2015

 

wrapped in a blackbird sunrise remains a legend

Sonic Boom  3, August 2015

 

not mine the space I can hold in one hand

Sonic Boom  4, December 2015 

 

it's between the furniture too the gigue

Sonic Boom  4, December 2015

 

it is what we call it swift

A Hundred Gourds 3:4 September 2014

 

just another ladder to climb lark song


A Hundred Gourds 3:4 September 2014

Un Coeur en Hiver
(Maurice Ravel - String Quartet in F major)

 

making guesses
about a dead king's feelings
jumping fish

let's roll it that stone from the grave

the grace of light
how fleeting we kiss
dead gold

not as we predicted: a star vanished


***


we had a dream of pillars and bridges

bits of the body
now deserts – weapons
might help

'nough said about death let's make it happen

is it a sickness?
that longing that stems
from mud?


***


establishing democracy
a blue snake with
our genes

let's eat god before he eats us

a little more
than a shadow – the room
we are born in

screaming the metal despair in Abraham's sky


***


virginal fluids if that's what it takes to rise

swoon and sway
the lizard of the spine
now on her wall

rush the angels demons scarabs rush

it's that time
of the year – unwillingly
feeding the black dog

A Hundred Gourds  4:1 December 2014

 

the codeine kicks in
    whales sing
    in the broken

Moongarlic  4, May 2015 

 

 

a bag of them
figs
without a country

 Moongarlic  4, May 2015

 

zipped the fly
then the keys that open
darkness

Moongarlic  4, May 2015

 

Under Darkness

after the service
the priest fastens the lids
on the holy rats

        slowly
        she emerges from
        an index of metals

”they're still here,
all 12” he rolls a ciggy
using a page from Genesis

        her teeth growing
        to full maturity piercing
        the dark

the ultimate sacrifice again
will vinegar remove
holiness?

        she eats moths
        and lost swallows retracing
        the song of revenge

sigh
something's rattling its chains
in the basement

        time crawls into a worm
        the room echoes
        with uncounted days

smoking The Flood (in silence)
he mistakes The Mother's Face
for a needle

        stopping at 80
        she exits her chrysalis
        a mercury butterfly

forked
the tongue that gives him
a blow-job
        
        she's here and
        not here as a flesh-eating
        voice


half awake
embracing the end of marble days
The Ultimate Word
drops to the floor
and fades

hush | hsuh

Moongarlic  5 Issue: 5, Nov 2015

 

before and after the fall lilacs

Frozen Butterfly  3, 2015

 

following the frequency of civilisations one snail one pen

Frozen Butterfly  3, 2015

 

little I knew now it's less and a licorice pipe

 Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

the length of the wind all day

 Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

clearing the third ear for non sociable athletes

 Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

not like that she says the far end of the wind passes

Otoliths 39, November 2015 

 

a mountain from the basic condition of if

Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

close to the railway the red hat and its head

 Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

with pliers making room for a fjord in Das Wohltemperierte

 Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

you could get that blackbird into a love song

Otoliths 39, November 2015 

 

that the tongue plays with empty space

Otoliths 39, November 2015

 

4 days dead she spills sugar and sleeps with his coat

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

a room filled with papers mum and son dressed in blue

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

opposition group political cartoons and the transistor's on

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

his car dragged away the world blue

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

it's a game and a release they're both pale

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

listening to how he's being erased from her the dead grabs a glass

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

in a socialist state ghosts and love

 

 

as Gerald O'Mudd, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

kiss. and fish. she

goes no. where we are.

r wii

 

as Giovanni Monte, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

half his face

in shadow we invent

a currency of grass

 

as Giovanni Monte, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

½a room

the rest come across

as prayers

 

as Yaman, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

 

the chair we call

blue vertically paling

the carpet

 

as Yaman, Masks 4, R'r 12.3

Alice's Night (a sequence)

 

 

sinking into my skin a chain of yellow teeth

 

 

 

days shorten a rattle of a chain from somewhere

 

 

 

the first tinted leaves I'm a bone

 

 

 

ten billion cells hardly a language left

 

 

 

as the turning point approaches a handshake

 

 

 

small winds gather to larger ones the dog yawns

 

 

 

“I do understand” a spider dries up behind the sun

 

 

 

this could be a paper ladder the label says not

 

 

 

the minister took the name Lamb the rest is Chinese

 

 

 

beads of blood from a stone this hissing song

 

 

 

between falls still a clock to wind

 

 

 

“let me do it” a rosary of dead stars

 

 

 

everything is bigger there and the dogs

 

 

 

“I call it blue, kinda” death is upstairs

 

 

 

a shining mountain it's people that brings darkness

 

 

 

guns talk democracy for billionaires

 

 

 

where Alice stepped in a squashed frog

 

 

 

“it could've been on a Sunday” a rope dangles from a cloud

 

 

A Hundred Gourds 2:2, March 2013

 


 

 

Danish version of Alice's Night

 

Alices nat



synker ind i min hud en kæde af gule tænder



dage bli'r kortere en raslen af en kæde fra et ubestemt sted



de første farvede blade jeg er en knogle



ti milliarder celler knap nok et sprog tilbage



ligesom vendepunktet nærmer sig et håndtryk



små vinde samles til en større hunden gaber



jeg forstår det godt” en edderkop tørrer ud bag solen



det her kunne være en papirstige mærkaten siger nej



ministeren to navnet Lam resten er kinesisk



perler af blod fra en sten denne hvæsende sang



mellem fald stadig et ur at trække op



lad mig gøre det” en rosenkrans af døde stjerner



alt er større der og hundene



jeg kalder det blå, en slags” døden er ovenpå



et lysende bjerg dets folk bringer mørke



pistoler taler demokrati for milliardærer



hvor Alice trådte en mast frø



det ku' ha' været på en søndag” et reb dingler fra en sky

 

 

 

 

 

winter etudes (a sequence)

 

 

Matins a D-minor chord while the coffee brews

 

 

almond flowers silent etudes for a skull

 

 

how this waltz grew mute and fifty mysteries on a chain

 

 

where The Book would have been rusty nibs and laudanum

 

 

moorish tiles all faces turned inwards

 

 

coughing roses in winter it's plausible

 

 

Prime a halfhearted mazurka and the mist the mist the mist

 

 

a faint spatter of blood it's nothing my dear

 

 

between the screams of pigs the sound of an angry pen

 

 

in Polish he longs for Paris Terce

 

 

it fades as we smoke the kids are outside

 

 

 

the piano sleeps praying they still walk the hallways

 

 

ivory kneeling for Sext in C-major

 

 

it's time but it's not a red bougainvillea and she slams the door

 

 

she is away the middle four octaves are ebony

 

 

this note tells about rain None

 

 

a notebook with corrections major to minor and back

 

 

just this word nocturne and a day has passed

 

 

Vespers as the winter settles in the lungs

 

 

lush valley the sunset enters his mouth

 

 

how many more breaths and scales Compline

 

Published in Modern Haiku 43.2, 2012

 


 

The Danish version of Winter etudes

 

vinteretuder (en sekvens)

 

Matutin en D-mol akkord mens kaffen brygger

 

mandelblomster stille etuder for en hovedskal

 

hvordan denne vals blev stum og halvtreds mysterier på en kæde

 

hvor Bogen ville have ligget rustne pennehoveder og laudanum

 

mauriske fliser alle ansigter vendt indad

 

hostende roser om vinteren det er tænkeligt

 

Prim en halvhjertet mazurka disen disen disen

 

et ubetydeligt blodigt sprøjt det' ingenting kære

 

mellem grisenes skrig lyden af en vred pen

 

på polsk længes han efter Paris Tertia

 

det falmer mens vi ryger børnene er udenfor

 

klaveret sover bedende går de stadig i gangene

 

elfenben knæler for Sext i C-dur

 

det er tid og ikke en rød bougainvillea og hun smækker med døren

 

hun er væk de midterste fire oktaver er ibenholt

 

denne node fortæller om regn Non

 

en nodebog med rettelser dur til mol og tilbage

 

blot dette ord nocturne og en dag er gået

 

Vesper mens vinter sætter sig i lungerne

 

overdådig dal solen går ned i hans mund

 

hvor mange flere åndedrag og skalaer Komplet 

 

thaw I brush off my social skills

 

 

tø jeg børster mine sociale færdigheder af

 

 

 

New Resonance 8, 2013

 

licking her salt becomes my second half

 

 

at slikke hendes salt bli'r min anden halvdel

 

 

 

New Resonance 8, 2013

 

sandalwood I perfume the invisible one

 

 

sandelstræ jeg parfumerer den usynlige

 

 

 

New Resonance 8, 2013

 

winter solstice a few hundred snowflakes trying to land

 

 

vintersolhverv et par hundrede snefnug prøver at lande

 

 

Ardea Issue 2

 

last rose I ask again till the answer is right

 

 

sidste rose jeg spørger igen til svaret er rigtigt

 

 

Modern Haiku 43.1, 2012

 

agape my brother hands me rotten apples

 

 

agape min broder rækker mig rådne æbler

 

 

Modern Haiku 43.3, 2012

 

a word that takes time defoliation

 

 

et ord der tager tid afblomstring

 

 

Modern Haiku 43.1, 2012

 

between two stars (that one and that) a god in our image?

 

 

mellem to stjerner (den dér og den) en gud i vort billede?

 

 

Modern Haiku 43.3, 2012

 

western gale a non-seasonal loneliness

 

 

vestlig kuling en ikke-sæsonbetonet ensomhed

 

 

A Hundred Gourds 1:2 March 2012

 

above behind in front of the rain rain

 

 

over bag foran regnen regn

 

 

A Hundred Gourds 1:2 March 2012

 

what if what if what if … I teach him to download anime again

 

 

hvad nu hvis hvad nu hvis … jeg lærer ham at downloade anime igen

 

 

A Hundred Gourds 1:4 September 2012

 

raga lalit the first thing painted is the clock

 

 

raga lalit den første ting der males er uret

 

A Hundred Gourds 1:3 June 2012

 

sneezing (alone) I watch a kigo melt

 

nyser (alene) jeg ser et kigo smelte

 A Hundred Gourds 1:3 June 2012