Foto: May B. Langhelle / Klikk på «Les mer» for bedre lesbarhet –
Kan hende er vi drevet av seil
eller ei rød sol, kan hende sitter det
en frossen frelser i baugen eller en erfaren los
ved roret. Det er bølgene som slår
og himmelen som revner, ved neste bølgetopp
stirrer vi kan hende enda lengre ned
i den neste oppstandelsen.
Foto: Katharina Barbosa
Les mer «Hans Petter Blad: Dikt fra Fuglekatalogen i den framtidige samlingen Tilfeldig musikk»
The Norwegian Writer’s Climate Campaign is honored to say that the American poet Jorie Graham wrote the following two poems for us. In them is steeped the bittersweet grief that comes from loving a world that may soon pass, from holding a fig plucked from a tree that now must only exist in the past. With complex accuracy, these poems demonstrate the deep psychic burden of climate change by asking the hard questions: How might we love a world that may soon die at our hands? And how can we enjoy the taste even of the sweetest fruit laced as it is now with bitterness and grief?
About her work, James Longenbach wrote in the New York Times: “For 30 years Jorie Graham has engaged the whole human contraption—intellectual, global, domestic, apocalyptic—rather than the narrow emotional slice of it most often reserved for poems. She thinks of the poet not as a recorder but as a constructor of experience. Like Rilke or Yeats, she imagines the hermetic poet as a public figure, someone who addresses the most urgent philosophical and political issues of the time simply by writing poems.”
Critic Calvin Bedient has noted that Graham is, “never less than in dialogue with everything. She is the world champion at shot-putting the great questions. It hardly matters what the title is: the subject itself is always ‘the outermost question being asked me by the World today.’ What counts is the hope in the questioning itself, not the answers.” In these two poems, she’s asking some very important and difficult questions, and we hope you’ll spend time with them and allow their interrogations to open within you.
You can read the poems here:
Für meinen Sterbetag wünsche ich mir, daß der Fjord weithin bis zum Meer marineblau ist und glatter als Seide. Dazu will ich Silberwellen, die allerkleinsten, über eine große Fläche. Niemand soll sie sehen können, doch sollen sie zittern und beben. Nicht schlimm, sagen die Leute, er verschwand unten im Tang.
/ Foto: Terje Rudi
All brukt skepsis
ned i den grå restavfallsdunken.
All brukt tillit
ned i den blå papiravfallsdunken.
Alt brukt liv
ned den brune bioavfallsdunken.
Kan det bli betre?
Nei.
Lisa Zerkle’s poems and reviews have appeared in The Collagist, Comstock Review, Southern Poetry Anthology, Broad River Review, Tar River Poetry, Nimrod, storySouth, poemmemoirstory, Cider Press Review, and Main Street Rag, among others. Her poem “Relics of the Great Acceleration” won the North Carolina Writer’s Network 2017 Randall Jarrell Poetry Competition. She is the author of Heart of the Light and a former editor of Kakalak. She lives in Charlotte, NC where she is the curator of 4X4CLT, a public art and poetry poster series, for the Charlotte Center for Literary Arts.
NWCC says thank you!
/
Il vaut mieux qu’il pleuve aujourd’hui plutôt qu’un jour il où il fait beau
Les mouches piquent davantage avant un orage – au moins 5000 par jour et Dans le climat fait l’homme, le Dr Mills affirme que les sons, les couleurs, les mouvements, le temps et surtout les vents persistants ont une influence sur le comportement humain, la musique adoucit, le vert calme, les voyages inquiètent, le foehn déprime et le levantin oppresse. «C’est précisément pendant un coup de vent d’est, répéta le docteur à Voltaire, que Charles Ier fut décapité et que Jacques II fut déposé». L’air dans sa course apparaît d’une manière, souvent d’une autre
/ Foto: Ulla Montan
Foto: Paal Audestad
/
Dan Andersen debuterte i 2010 med dikt-samlingen Evighetsarbeid. I 2012 utkom Krise i Jammerdarn, og Mirakelet i 2014. Flaggtale (2016) er hans fjerde diktsamling. Tiden Norsk Forlag bidrar med honorarstøtte til sine forfattere på denne nettsiden. Vi takker for diktet! Vennligst les det her:
–Bransfield Strait, Antarctica
We know you are below us
concentrating krill: teal
feeding-bubbles twitching
to the surface, perforating chads
in the Antarctic Ocean’s
untidy sheet. Do you mistake
the dark ovals of our Zodiaks above you,
the outboards’ hummings, and the props’
disturbances for glaciers calving
or a waddle of gentoos porpoising
like pistons in the ocean’s machinations?
Alt er far:
etter tunge isskreier, dei hòlka
lendet ut, runda det, slipte
Vi går i ein kvelv, eit avtrykk:
den store gjennomsiktige kuldens
negativbilete
Ennå i mjuke sommarkveldar
kan du ane
ein glasial pust
Ekstremværsnøstormen har etterlatt seg fem centimeter
puddersnø i natt, og ingen av dem som er spurt kan bekrefte
at alle er i live.
Vaknar, stiger upp
också idag, det är 3 december,
ett snölakan lagt över bygden,
himlen aluminiumfärgad
Vad gör vi med allt mörker?
Det är lättare att dela på ljuset,
men lika nödvändigt att
tillsammans bära mörkret,
att inte låta det sjunka,
dränka oss som vinterns
vågor i Medelhavet –
Hvem kan unngå å tale om sjøer
når hvert menneske
er en sjø
Hvem kan unngå å synge om trær her
når det går tusen trær
på hvert menneske
Hvem kan unngå å skrive om kjærlighet
i dette landet
når hvert tre speiler seg
i en sjø
Av Agnar Lirhus / Foto: Finn Stål Felberg
På Pingvinøya vrimlet de som biller
da seilskipene kom sigende bak hvite filler.
En granitt-tallerken på åpne havet
ble navet
i ekspansjonskravet!
Vi klubbet dem ned som bowlingkjegler
og spiste dem sammen med kokte snegler.
Én etter én, tok vi dem,
helt til det ikke var flere igjen.
Så forandret vi navn til Funkøya
like greit som båtsmannen bytter trøya.
Foto: Tom Langdon
Den svenska poeten Marie Silkeberg skriver om resandet, om Island, och kontinentalplattornas rörelser:
Av Joanna Rzadkowska
Sommeren angriper sansene,
for varmt, for kaldt, en bølge av salt vann
skyller over håndkleet, håret blir stivt,
avrevne seil flagrer, en bustete måke skanner vannet,
sulten på lunsj.
Photograph by Kristin Shelly /
After studying literature at Oxford University Brown became the editorial assistant for the late Hunter S. Thompson. She worked at the independent literary press Sarabande Books for ten years. Her first collection, Sister, a novel-in-poems, was first published in 2007 by Red Hen Press and a new edition will be reissued by Sibling Rivalry Press in 2018. Her second book, a biography-in-poems called Fanny Says, came out from BOA Editions in 2015, and the audio book of that collection is now available. She was an Assistant Professor at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock for four years until she gave up her beloved time in the classroom in hope of writing full time. Currently, she is the Editor for the Marie Alexander Poetry Series and teaches periodically at a number of venues, including the Sewanee School of Letters MFA Program, the Great Smokies Writing Program at UNCA, and the Hindman Settlement School. She lives with her wife, poet Jessica Jacobs, in Asheville, NC, where she volunteers at a four different animal sanctuaries. Currently, she’s at work on a bestiary of sorts about these animals.
NWCC says thank you for the poem! /
Fotograf: Robin Skjoldborg, 2013
Med let rystende hænder udhuler jeg solen og skriger grå hede ind i den, pladsens hede, hvor duerne er, deres største suk hidtil, som et nedtrådt hav, er en plads i solen, en åben plads, såret åbnes som et ubestøvet formiddagsblad
I
og så er det nokon som dreg
dyna av dei og skrik
