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Proto digte – side 84 – 85 notesbog 8 – Damp af dårlig smag

Fragment from my notebook 8. Proto-poems (prototypes for a poetry.)

English translation, et français, below Danish.


“… Dette der går forkert
men i det mindste: Går?

Og så alle dem der
bare er i vejen
Det at de
går istykker

Er skrøbelige
revner splintres fragmenteres
ved mindste anstrengelse
trædes ned slæbes og skubbes
ud over asfalten
ned mellem huller på tværs af
mælkebøtter over bump og gennem
damp af dårlig smag …

En tåge driver

Jeg regner
den ud
men regner med kugleramme
af ubestemmelig
alder … ”

Uredigeret fragment side 84 – 85, notesbog 8


“… That what goes the wrong way
but at least: Goes?

And then all those
being in the way
This that they
break down

Are fragile
cracks splinter and fragment
at the slightest effort
are stepped on, dragged and pushed
over the tarmac
down between potholes across
dandelions over bumps and through
a vapour of bad taste …

A fog drifts

I calculate
but reckon with an abacus
of indeterminate
age … “

Unedited fragment page 84 – 85, notebook 8

Français :

“… Voilà ce qui va nul part
mais au moins : Va ?

Et puis tous ceux qui
se mettent en travers du chemin
Le fait qu’ils
se brisent

Sont fragiles
les fissures éclatent et se fragmentent
au moindre effort
sont piétinées, traînées et poussées
sur le macadam
entre les nids-de-poule sur
les pissenlits sur les bosses et à travers
des vapeurs de mauvais goût…

Un brouillard dérive

Je calcule
mais je compte avec un boulier
d’un âge indéterminé … “

Fragment non édité page 84 – 85, cahier 8

Look at the Moon

Midnight, seven days ago, the Moon … time passes … should you look at it now, from where you are, as I would here … from where I am … then we would be looking at it, together … #foryou ✌️⭐🌱😊 @michaelnyvang

Music I listened to: ”What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life” — 1970 UMG Recordings Inc. — 1970 – 71 — Album: “From left to right” — Bill Evans.

Re: Nah, this sucks…

A fragment in English.

I hesitate to write poetic texts in English as I am not an English speaking native. This fragment ended up in an un-numbered notebook due to a conversation some time ago with a friend from Brooklyn who sort of suggested I should write something in English, maybe.

The experience convinced me that probably I shouldn’t do that.

Later today I did it anyway. Listening to an album by Nala Sinephro and absentminded browsing the works of Elsa & Johanna then, as I cleaned up my room, I stumbled on my discarded off-piste notebook and messed around with it a bit.

The title is due to the fact that I mailed it to myself, corrected something, then replied, still agreeing that it most likely sucked.

However I think the title is nice, well, you know, so…

Music I listened to: Space 1.8, Nala Sinephro , Warp Records WARP324.

(Note that this is not an opinion on Nala Sinephro’s music — I totally love Nala Sinephro., She has her heart in her music… It is absolutely wonderful what she and the other musicians on that recording have created so the title below is about my writing reflection as described …)

Re: Nah, this sucks…

Oh yes I know
Why are you saying that?
I don’t know
But you just said, you know?
I know

Those were the moments
when wine drunk me

Now there is nowhere to turn
as even nothing has been taken

What to remember what to keep
if there is none to remember it for?

I’m not that poor
I can make another tea
throw the rest out
we can squeeze Earth
a bit more
won’t be room for all of us
but those remaining would
have global heating and
forever float in pink hot fudge
polystyrene foam
happy bubbles
no need to buy
rubber ducks
we can go
to the beach
and have a swim
among all of them
in space
the oceans
giant vaginas and penis fish
chasing love
in lukewarm caffè latte dosed
with plastic pellets


I know that one they
said it had talent
could be a star
failed spectacularly
imploded to
black holes
the rap music
beyond horizons of events
a palace of space
is turning turning


Under the Moon at night

… so I played sax in between the trees on a small hill in the moonlight this night at 2.12 AM in a mostly deserted parc in Paris …

Brief note on sound composing and history

Some who may find their way into the work “Te quiero” may wonder about the title, the design of sound, the languages and so on.

It is not quite what it maybe looks like.

Let us take two examples:

In the begining you hear an answering machine.

However, every sound put in there was written down and then ‘performed’ from a score. ‘Beeps’ are not ‘beeps’ but someone whistling and so on.

Towards the end you hear what many will consider a foolish movie cliche: thunder.

However, there is no thunder. 

That sound does not at all originate from recordings of thunder. 

It is not from a ‘sample effect library’ nor is it from a field trip with funny hats recording hurricanes or whatever.

What it is is sound from a piano string manipulated with filters and distorted, composed from the material in ‘the movie.’

In fact all is contemplated like this. As a painting by Leonardo, a technique of meticulous drawing up from scratch on canvas: a vision so that in the end it may look like a ‘banale photo.’

Favourite Quotes on Facebook

“I have spend more time deleting Facebook profiles than I had ever spend creating them… and I didn’t even succeed in getting rid of it.
It gave me constipation, needing medical attention.
I literally had to dig out a massive fat shit of my own ass – hours and hours of digging finally exploded it out on the toilet floor in a bloody mess missing the can with about half a meter (that is if you want all the gory details).
This experience, the global madness, exposed and amplified, gravely reduced my feeling of security in this world.
It is painful.
It is a true story.
Someday it will be Mother Earth.
It is severe opinion constipation.
And it suck.” – Pollyfiks.
Paris, Texas. 23 July 2021. (c)(p)(r) Earth Art Collective.

Old secrets

J. S. Bach wrote between 1000 and 10.000 compositions. His secret was that he didn’t use a computer…


Life, what it is? It is what dreams are made of.

Too too.

There are too many, too few and it is, in general, too much or too little.

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