Ingmar Heytze
'This page was meant for some other poem'
•
(This page was meant for some other poem.
You see, I can’t read my handwriting
anymore. I awoke to a shining
light slipping through
the room – was it the moon?
Sleep was no longer on the cards. Awake
was a broad term too: most of the text
went far beyond the paper. Faint stains
on the sheets. On the wall: ‘the child
(hum hum)’ and: ‘written down/erased’.
It was, I think, a proper poem.
I can tell by the scratches that
happened to hit the paper:
stars, stripes, exclamation marks.
Anyway, I at least was quite excited.
I’m sorry. Buy a tape recorder,
you might be grumbling now. That’s even
worse, the next day you’ll hear a voice
from the grave, muttering: ‘star...
raspberries... fibrous...’
followed by three quarters of an hour of smacking
and snoring. Then you wake up deathly pale
from the click which stops the tape
and just as in your dream, quite rightly,
a gun is being pointed at you).
From: Voor de liefste onbekende
Publisher: First publication on poetryinternational.com, , 2023
'Op deze plaats hoort een ander gedicht'
'Op deze plaats hoort een ander gedicht'
•
(Op deze plaats hoort een ander gedicht.
Dat komt, ik kan mijn handschrift
niet meer lezen. Ik werd wakker
van een stralend licht dat door
de kamer gleed – was het de maan?
Slapen zat er niet meer in. Ontwaakt
was ook een ruim begrip: de meeste tekst
ging ver naast het papier. Vage vlekken
op de lakens. Op de muur: ‘het kind
(hum hum)’ en: ‘opgeschreven/uitgewist’.
Het was, denk ik, een goed gedicht.
Dat zie ik aan de krassen die toevallig
het papier hebben geraakt:
sterren, strepen, uitroeptekens.
Ik was in elk geval zeer enthousiast.
Het spijt me. Koop een bandrecorder,
bromt u nu misschien. Dat is nog erger,
dan hoor je de dag daarna een stem
vanuit het graf, die mompelt: ‘ster...
frambozen… vezelrijk...’
gevolgd door drie kwartier gesmak
en snurken. Dan schrik je lijkbleek wakker
van de klik waarmee het bandje stopt
juist als in je droom, geheel terecht,
een wapen op je wordt gericht.)
From: Voor de liefste onbekende
Publisher: Uitgeverij Podium, Amsterdam
'This page was meant for some other poem'
•
(This page was meant for some other poem.
You see, I can’t read my handwriting
anymore. I awoke to a shining
light slipping through
the room – was it the moon?
Sleep was no longer on the cards. Awake
was a broad term too: most of the text
went far beyond the paper. Faint stains
on the sheets. On the wall: ‘the child
(hum hum)’ and: ‘written down/erased’.
It was, I think, a proper poem.
I can tell by the scratches that
happened to hit the paper:
stars, stripes, exclamation marks.
Anyway, I at least was quite excited.
I’m sorry. Buy a tape recorder,
you might be grumbling now. That’s even
worse, the next day you’ll hear a voice
from the grave, muttering: ‘star...
raspberries... fibrous...’
followed by three quarters of an hour of smacking
and snoring. Then you wake up deathly pale
from the click which stops the tape
and just as in your dream, quite rightly,
a gun is being pointed at you).
From: Voor de liefste onbekende
Publisher: 2023, First publication on poetryinternational.com, Amsterdam
'This page was meant for some other poem'
•
(This page was meant for some other poem.
You see, I can’t read my handwriting
anymore. I awoke to a shining
light slipping through
the room – was it the moon?
Sleep was no longer on the cards. Awake
was a broad term too: most of the text
went far beyond the paper. Faint stains
on the sheets. On the wall: ‘the child
(hum hum)’ and: ‘written down/erased’.
It was, I think, a proper poem.
I can tell by the scratches that
happened to hit the paper:
stars, stripes, exclamation marks.
Anyway, I at least was quite excited.
I’m sorry. Buy a tape recorder,
you might be grumbling now. That’s even
worse, the next day you’ll hear a voice
from the grave, muttering: ‘star...
raspberries... fibrous...’
followed by three quarters of an hour of smacking
and snoring. Then you wake up deathly pale
from the click which stops the tape
and just as in your dream, quite rightly,
a gun is being pointed at you).
From: Voor de liefste onbekende
Publisher: 2023, First publication on poetryinternational.com,
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