Sunday, April 2, 2017

Walls with a story


















Samaipata / Bolivia
Not that there is anything wrong
with our Nordic, suttle surfaces...
but when the personality is pulled
out on the outside of the house,
a totally new story evokes...




Kamete

Friday, March 17, 2017

At the verge of eternity











Larks trilling
above swaying grassblades...
The sun
playing sword-beams
from left to right...
The thunder of Universe
roaring on my beach
with promises of liberation...
So overwhelming now
as it was
when Man was created.

The up-swollowed ship-wrecks
and their ancient stories,
rubbish and filth of all men
by the mercy
of a silvery mirror
covered up and forgotten.
And I watch the horizon,
and I cry out loud:
"Oh, God!
The Earth is so beautiful!

Let us remember the ocean
before it turns black






Kamete
Copyright

Monday, March 13, 2017

Transformation (7)









At ønske livet med hele sin død forude 
er dødens gave.
Det er sorgens bærende vingefang



Kamete
Copyright






Tansformation
To desire life with all its death ahead
is the gift of death
It is the mainstay of sorrow´s wingspan



Friday, March 3, 2017

Genfødsel (6)


Efter tilintetgørelse 
følger genfødsel







Tårernes syndflod løfter Arken
bygget af adskillelsens splintrede træ 
ud af kløften, og et nyt, lysegrønt blad folder sig ud



Kamete
Copyright





Rebirth
After destruction follows rebirth

The flood of tears lifts The Ark build by 
the splintered wood of separation out of the gap,
and a new, fair-green leave unfolds 





Sunday, February 26, 2017

Dybet dybest (5)







Find
det stille sted
på bunden af kløften
Læg dig nøgen, ja, uden hud
med den vibrerende sårbarhed flået åben
Smelt det indefrosne hjerte
med det hudløse køds
brændende ild

Vånd dig med nådesløst højt volumen
i dage og nætter, uger eller måneder
Klag til de skrig, du end ikke turde hviske,
de følelser der aldrig fik krop,
billeder der kun lever i nattens drømme,
flagrer og danser i lyset

Lad kløften runge af dit ekko
med en kraft så stor, at skyggerne
og den værkende hud
isner til aske


Kamete
Copyright






The depth deepest
Find the quiet spot on the bottom of the gorge
Lie down naked without skin,
with the vibrating vulnerability ripped open
Melt the stiff-frozen heart with
the burning fire of the skinless flesh
Moan with mercilessly high volume
through days and nights, weeks or months
Wail until screams, you never dared even whisper,
the images that only live in dreams of the night,
feelings that never got a body, flutter and dance in the light 
Let the ravine reverberate your echo with a force so great 
that the shadows and the aching skin chills to ashes