GLOBAL NIGHT CAR

Weltnachtauto - wereldnacht auto

This is a project with 9 poets, each writing two stanzas, some knowing what the others have written, while some poets never knew what the others wrote. Then chance played its part and also a wee bit of composition. Of course there is also a Dutch translation and a German one. It will be part of the 'Harbors of the West' which should be ready by March 21st for Unesco's World Poetry Day. The world premiere was last night read by three different English voices. Thanks Magda. Thanks Lynn.

*

On singing wheels along the harbors, the night sky
installs itself, pens the world; the dashboard guides
along dying skyline, busy quays
where in the fyke of light the fish is brought in
*
Roiling day.
The sea turns color before my eyes.
Cold cries of the gulls more than suffice
to wring out every bit of remorse
and dash them against the rocks.

*

Moon shadow on rock and sand
moonshine in water
dark night of tremors and of life
and we moon connected wisps of cosmic mist

*

Tuesday October 25

Waning crescent turns quickly to dark new moon

as skies brushed red reflect tear gas billows

the world's gone crazy my daughter cries into the phone

*

See him fly far above all flat lands, fallen angel
in pitch-black nights! 24 hours above sands and above seas –
Alas! Once again no golden border boy to be uncovered,
Just spinning globe, night semen, broken water: yes yes, all that again!

*

The wings sing softly: This is a song.
The light goes on, the light goes out
and outside the wind becomes visible and whistles.
*

Rain in my heart
and your consolation brolly.
often heard words
soft to the touch like smooth fur.

*

yeah yeah global ca
that’s the difference between
speaking and living
of you this time with violin waltz
*

I’m sorry I’m so wishy-washy

he says

water rolling down dough and rock-faced belly.

*

Red is the color of devotion,

how the moon pulls the ocean

how the poor feed the rich

this Love

an involuntary condition.

*

a small child floating around the earth
that is all tha
is so strong at the point of knowing of dying
always always pretty violins with da and ho

*

October 31 

the ocean is postcard calm, clouds feathering through layers of blue

smokey, robin’s egg, dark silk, venus flirts with the oncoming night

the moon fattens as one by one fires start to blossom along the shore

*

wind pulls at the car door, yet calmly I drive under the stars
and don’t hear the siren call of blackwaters; something transports me
blinded, numbed, over de darkened roads of past
to when love for the first time rescued me and I your harbor sought

*

‘Repair the stars...’ The cockpit yawns.
The moon glistens on the sea, cloud city –
The singing sand, time steals on.
Here one makes snow swishing high.

*

waltz under a red bridge named golden
the sun is always setting.
Sails sailing,
say, have you left your heart...
across the fluid body?

*

Again descended earthwards, age 33, he lets himself be driven,

Bentley limousine, through godforsaken cities, Armani suit, Dolce &

Gabana sunshades. Cristal champagne uncorked. The lady on the backseat,

Marlene Dietrich legs, Mae West bosom, almost.

*

I give the memory some milk
hoping it wants to come back one day.
There is a dead bird in the distance
near your grown wild waterhole of language.

*

Moon pale night of the soul
and the self upon waves, over roofs
howling crying in rising whisper
mixes mercy with warm worldwide love

* * *

Participating poets: Susan Birkeland, Fred Schywek, Roger Nupie, Clara Hsu, Bart Stouten, Peter Holvoet-Hanssen, Job Degenaar, Annmarie Sauer, Devorah Major.

© world internet books

Salon12b - Freestyle

Another salon 12b is taking place November 29. Door open at 7PM and the performances start at 8PM with the world premiere of Global Night Car. You can read it on the link. It will be read in three languages, in different voices, since nine different poets contributed to this experiment. In the break expect a good Goulash soup and something will be there for vegetarians as well. Desert will be by Rose: Condé rice with apricots...

After earthy food, the poets present will read their latest and thus unpublished work. Lucienne Stassaert will be kind enough to read the poems of three Breton poets one, Olivier Cousin, has received a major price. We always knew 'the project's poets' are fabulous.

L’enfant sur la jetée

Petit port de pêche paisible

au bout des garennes

Deux caseyeurs bleus

franchissent la passe

pour venir se soulager sur le quai

de leurs casiers d’illusions

et de désillusions

Il n’y aura qu’un seul témoin

De dos sur la jetée

un enfant scrute les flots

et les flots fixent l’enfant

S’il était assis sur le môle

on en saurait plus

Personne ne peut dire

s’il a jailli des vagues

ou s’il va y plonger

En suspens la vie l’attend

avec ses joies et ses déboires

comme la mer constellée

d’îlots et de récifs

Les deux caseyeurs bleus

passent les dernières balises

l’enfant n’a pas bougé

Il y a tant de cartes à s’inventer

*

Child on the jetty

A small peaceful fisherman port

at the edge of the moors

Two blue lobsterpot boats

cross the channel

to come and unload on the quay       

their pots of illusions

and disillusions

There will be only one witness

His back to the jetty

a child scrutinizes the drift

the drift staring at the child           

If he’d been sitting on the pier              

we would have known more                                               

Nobody can say

whether he shot up from the waves

or whether he is going to jump in

In suspense life awaits him

with its joys and troubles                  

like the sea spattered                    

with isles and reefs

The two blue lobsterpot boats

pass the last beacons                       

the child hasn’t moved

There are so many maps to invent