| Noch 17. Januar 1991 Schuhe noch nicht zu- gebunden schlugen Bomben meinen Schlafkopf Morgen peitschte Radiowellen Sündengeißen treiben Seit Uhr wird ge- schlagen heilige Schlacht Moscheen scheinen Wunderlampen Öl ver- siegt Himmel dämmert Abbruch Noch … | Still January 17, 1991 Shoelaces still not tied bombshells beat my dream head morning whipped radio waves scape nannies stay afloat Since a.m. we are blasting back holy war mosques queer magic lamps oil runs dry sky dawning abruption Still … |
I have rediscovered this poem, which I wrote in German on January 17, 1991. I woke up that morning and found a note on top of two library books: Could you return the book on top and renew the other one? Thank you. PS: You might not want to turn on the radio.
This is a text for my year-long online writing course Uncovering the Authentic Self on dailyom.com. The prompt was rediscovery. Previous texts are on Home and Giving.
Rediscovering this poem, editing it a bit, and translating it into English today reminded me that I only wrote poetry again twenty years after in 2011.
Texterium 