THE BIG TIREDNESS

BIG SLEEP COME OVER ME

LET ME SINK TO THE BOTTOM

WASH AWAY THE DIRT OF THE DAYS

CHANGE ME LET REMAIN ONLY THE 
ESSENCE OF ME

STRONG SLEEP COME AND HEAL ME

TOUCH MY LIMBS LET THEM COME 
ALIVE AGAIN LOADED WITH PRIMAL

DESIRE LET ME FEEL LIQUID HEAT

STREAMING THROUGH MY INSIDE

CLEAR COLOURS WEAVE AND DRIVE

BIG SLEEP COME OVER ME UNTIE ME 
FROM THE RIGOR OF CONSTANT MOTION 
AND ROCK MY TIRED ENTANGLEMENTS 
IN THE RHYTHM OF THE ALL-EMBRACING 
BREATH YOUR DANCE

BIG SLEEP

GIVE ME BACK THE WARM CAVE

THE TIME OF ONENESS WITHOUT WORDS

BUT NOT THIS DECEPTIVE CALM

OF NOT WANTING TO LIVE

NO DEATHLY RIGOR I WANT FROM YOU

BUT THE GIFT OF POWER

THAT BRINGS BRIGO BIG SLEEP

MY HAPPY RETURN

berlin city man (from stalinstadt)

 

Buranovo!! (... Udmurtia?)

In the year of 2005, I elaborately wrote (in the book "My Song - Texts about the Soundtrack of Life") about the fateful meaning of the worldwide summer hit of 1977: Hotel California... In 2008 I was guest at a writer's congress in Yoshkar Ola, the capital of the Autonom Russian Republic of Mari El - a region near the river Wolga, where an enchanting finno-ugric tribe dwells, about whom not even my friends in only 800 km distant Moscow had ever heared. There I also got to know something about the Udmurts, another finno-urgic tribe in the range of the Wolga region with an astonishing culture as well - and I even met a young fascinating Udmurt poetemme (see below). That is why I am emotionally involved in many respects and recommend: the Voices of the grandmothers of Buranovo!

 

The young Udmurt poet Mush Nadii (2008). 

An Edition of her poems in Urdmurt, Estonian, Russian and English 

was published 2006 with the titel "barefoot" by KIRJASTUSKESKUS (Tallinn). 

(I own the book!)

MALARIA

Malaria

first come those little diaphanous

ghosts weaving a cocoon of patience

protecting time and whispering stories

then they dance with the dreams trough

you blood

and your blood starts drawing you completly new

suddenly you recognise the diversity of ways in your

internal inwards you understand all your colours and get a

shape and you start to pluse and it no longer pulses

you

and this agreement of pulsing speeds up the

move it opens this upanddownparty with guest

in your arteries with visitors that couriously

watch out for interesting occasions

in you

and in the south the cracatoa brakes your heart

and in the north the waves are storming the starts

insects swarm in the shining light of the blood

billions of beeings watch at you loudly without any

word

this up and down of love, disgust and pain

steals all your sense for questions of taste

your hardly filled arteries dancfloor of eons

which take you strictly in their arms its not a lack

its not a lack

its not a lack

this is an over

flow of live

Norwich Showcase – March 9 to 13 2012

The welcoming by our hosts, the British Council and the Norwich Writers Center, was well organized. Immediately after arriving at the campus of the University of East Anglia (15 min outside Norwich) spring started: The loans got fresh and green, daffodils began to blossom, birds choirs intonated their newest compositions and lots of happy rabbits fearlessly jumped over the campus hills… no joke.
  All guests were accommodated at the nice Broadview lodge having a really broad view on the gentle landscape around the campus. In the evening, after poetry readings by local poets at the modern wooden side hall of the Norwich cathedral, we had our getting-to-know-dinner at the same location. I was shocked to meet so many crazy literature activists like me: festival makers and project managers, most of them authors or publishers themselves, from all over the world. In our discussions I learned that we really share the same obsessions, problems and hopes, no matter if we come from Brasil, Bangladesh, Canada, the Caribbean, Japan, Malaysia, India, Uganda, Egypt, Israel etc. (Its always too less money, too much pressure from political and commercial sides and too much burocracy…)
 The schedule was fully packed: 4 days we listened to the presentations of our colleagues and to several readings and discussions presenting newest British literature nearly all around the clock: New poetry and fiction, translations and new forms of presenting literature were discussed. It was always a lot of information and a flood of impressions but never boring. Sometimes the fast-talking enthusiasm of the British made it hard for a non-native speaker to follow all those ambitious and very engaged contributions. I was looking for interesting new writers as well as for new forms of presenting literature - and I found it. For the novelists Anjali Joseph and Yvette Edwards, for instance, we might soon find German publishers. And I hope I will be able to invite poets like Emily Berry or Kei Miller soon to Berlin. Maybe a Translation Slam or a Literary Death Match really keeps what its title promises and we can do it in Berlin too? (By the way, many events were live-streamed or are podcasted on the British Councils webside see above.)
  The contacts with my colleagues will surely lead to new cooperation. Good food, good talks and the sophisticated and charming moderation of Chris Gribble from the NWC and his colleagues made this meeting work in a nearly perfect way. Getting in direct contact with colleagues from all over the British Council’s universe is definitely helpful and extraordinarily pleasuring for me. Thanks Rachel Stevens for your always kind assistance. Dear Susie Nicklin, your table-talk-theory that English novels are internationally so much more successful than German novels because they are so much better is worth a further discussion. Thank you, British Council! But unfortunately the program was so interesting and packed that we missed most of the extremly beautiful spring presentation that you prepared for us outside...