Posts Tagged ‘ Johannes S. H. Bjerg ’

is/let – a poem by Johannes S H Bjerg


Source: is/let

Johannes S H Bjerg – 2 poems at NOON 13

in the dark

an anvil

or an identity

Johannes S H Bjerg 

in the dream it made sense: you were a bird
then invisible

then a bird


Johannes S H Bjerg

NOON  13
Noon Press, Tokyo
ISSN 2188-2967

otata 13 (January 2017)

goes on into winter the smell of apples

fortsætter ind i vinteren lugten af æbler

those quick remarks to show you’re cool crow

de dér hurtige bemærkninger for at vise du er cool krage


– Johannes S. H. Bjerg

otata 13 (January 2017)

The Night of San Lorenzo by Johannes S. H. Bjerg | the other bunny


haibun 04-12-15 san lorenzo.jpg

Johannes S. H. Bjerg


Source: The Night of San Lorenzo | the other bunny

Faces of Dusk, a One-Line Renku | A Hundred Gourds 3:3

Faces of Dusk

rap from a parked car the faces of dusk

”it’s enough to breathe” the pavement littered with drunks

talk of summer late the whorl of snail and rose

seemingly eternal puddles will these reflections ever fade?

round again the fb einstein grin

whining jaw muscles she’s made from lemon juice

tortured thoughts of suicide lal bibi’s rape

ten trillion cells not one thinking straight … or ’bout hopscotch

circles stonehenge at solstice a phone to each ear

day of silence the language on food labels untranslatable

evening bells I recycle the letter A

digitally remastered on blue-ray the anniversary E.T.

men like ants like men in/out the tube

without the job he complained about for fifty years lost

a girl with red toenails coffee served in German

well if they mean that much to you wear ’em yourself …

Osiris takes time out for a beer

I AM melts into distant motorway somewhere out there roar

dead whale a new king emerges blind

all I can recall is the dandruff split platinum ends

caught in a bottle Psyche turns into a fly


Sheila Windsor, England / Johannes S. H. Bjerg, Denmark

A Hundred Gourds Journal: haiku, tanka, haibun, haiga, renku.

Vehicles, a haibun by Johannes S. H. Bjerg


It was the summer of wondrous metal vehicles. Beatles travelled to Pepper Land in a yellow submarine and some Americans went to walk on the moon (and of course half ways claiming it for themselves by planting a flag) crammed inside a tin can. I got car sick almost every day of the vacation; each time we went for a drive along the river Neckar in and around Heidelberg. And it was hot. The best thing I knew was visiting old castles and feel the sweet shadows that had lingered for centuries and the earthy smell of time standing still.

moon dust
we’re all connected
by electric guitars


Johannes S. H. Bjerg
January 4, 2014

a new pain, a tanka by Johannes S. H. Bjerg / NeverEnding Story

English Original

a new pain
in an old place
there is
no “I”
behind the mirror

Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Chinese Translation (Traditional)



Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Chen-ou Liu, translation




NeverEnding Story.

Johannes S. H. Bjerg: Two Sequences and a Visual / otoliths issue 29

white hole

Johannes S. H. Bjerg / otoliths 29