I wrote in Swedish 1989-1995, then stopped poetry to focus on other pursuits...

 


But a few relapses have been recorded. The most recent one occurred in 2016.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

       
 

ON THE BANK

On the bank at the end
Of what was there before us
Gazing over to the other side
On what we can become
Veiled in the mist of naïve speculation
We are busy here preparing
Rafts to carry us across
Before the light goes out leaving us
In the eternal night of could-have-been

(2002)

  poop1
 

 

 

   
 

PYTHAGOREAN JAMBOREE

The astral glockenspiel quivers
As our bodies align in the orbit of Venus;
Galloping stallions and mares
Print with their hooves, pixel by pixel,
The lights and shadows of mortal life,
Pink flesh for the gods’ inspection ‒
Who clap their hands together at the sight;
For the heavens love the authentic peep.
Whence the orbs appear to us sublunars
Empty, mute, and dimly lit;
While on the other side the jamboree,
Abuzz with primal harmony,
Fluoresces with the ecstasy of being.

(2007)

 

poop2

 

 

 

 

 

   
 

FIFTY FISHES' MOUTHS

See the plucked chicken
Its throat ineptly slit
Over the abattoir drain
Bleeding its life away

See the man running
Running for his life
Chased by a rabid dog
The pit-bull called Eternity

See the fountain gushing
From fifty fishes’ mouths
Various parabolas
Same filthy water

(2008)

 

poop3

 

 

       
 

SETTLED

Took the path of least resistance
Ended up in this hole
Snug and comfy in my circumscribed existence

Sometimes, awake in bed,
I look up at the moon-disc and wonder
What winds are sweeping the heath now, what outlaw riders

But less and less frequently

(2012)

  poop4
 

 

 

 

   
 

JUICY EXCEPTIONS

the young ones glimmer briefly
like fourth of july firework
then fall to dust

in the nursing home sits an old rocker
all that remains are his fading tattoos
smells like centenarian spirit, how low

well listen up youth, here comes philosophy
like a hand outstretched from the back of a limousine
scattering Benjamins for y’all:

strut on you arrogant pricks
shine on you daughters of ivy
occupy your privilege like a desert garden

fig-nude amongst almonds and apricots
let us feast our eyes on your impudence
as you slurp that rough-shelled coconut with a pastel straw

(2016)

 

poop5

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 

(There is also the earlier work Synkrotron, in Swedish.)