Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Born 1957 in Copenhagen, Denmark
Living in Højby, Denmark
Contact the poet



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

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

by the far end of your gaze neurons become deserts

Ygdrasil  VOL XXIV, Issue 9, Number 281 September 2016


- 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

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

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 



 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




Sonic Boom  3, August 2015 



 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
without a country

 Moongarlic  4, May 2015


zipped the fly
then the keys that open

Moongarlic  4, May 2015


Under Darkness

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

        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

        she eats moths
        and lost swallows retracing
        the song of revenge

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

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

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