Cool calm and untitled

Du kan også læse dette indlæg på Dansk

Kunstgruppen min utstiller for øyeblikket på Aros, og her er mine bidrag til utstillingen. 

Noen ting forandrer seg aldri. Tidligere risset kjærester sine initialer inn i trær, nå offentliggjør man sine nyheter på Facebook.

Cool Calm and Collected er tittelen på en Rolling Stones-sang, samt navnet på en utstilling på Aros. Jeg har tatt utgangspunkt i titlene på alle verkene i utstillingen, og har samlet ordene på min egen måte – i et dikt.

 

Gjendiktningen heter Cool calm and untitled og du kan lese den her:

 

 

Cool calm and untitled

He

Made in China

People call him yellow

He feels blue

# Newspaper-series

about him:

having intercourses

with God.

God is not

single anymore.

Afghanistan 5012 km.

The Orient.

We the exposed.

He –

they see him

as a letter,

not words

that make text

that matter.

They see him

as a letter,

a geometric version

of calculated

BODY parts.

Geometric ears

absorbed to a white version

exposed at a sex-shop

in Lumberton.

He. Again.

Looking in the mirror.

Feels like a dragon.

CELESTIAL.

Imagined.

Absorbed.

Forgotten.

Like God.

Like my tribe.

Will God shock him

by pulling him out of

our repetition of mirrors?

Or shock us even more

by being untitled,

NOT in the center?

If God is here,

is he light

or

is he lettuce

is he SUPERFLEX(IBLE)

or

LV– LXIII

or is God good at all?

He

An industrial portrait

made of maquillage

A Bocca Baciata

Copy righted VOGUE

He is limited to being monochromic

swinging between blue and white

and nerves and forgetting.

In Afghanistan 5012 km

We are limited to imagined optimism

/state of emergency,

nerves and forgetting.

Black bullets rotating

Bells die

Justified beliefs

We stretch

Reaching SURVIVALISM

Control

I die

untitled

Thirty-Three

Objects

1-33

Balloons and fingers

Fluids moving in disrupted waves

Lampposts watching over any surviving in the east

In the south

Eyes

Whips

Heads

In the landscape

Me.

I’m jealous of the

cosmonauts and “guldnakker”.

There are capitals

and letters

seeing,

touching,

breaking.

He is a CAPITAL letter.

He breaks in the sun NOT

Untitled

Lost in a

masquerade.

A caption.

Perdue.

Making squads of

octocorallias,

while being

gold,

or squids just to change into

a masquerade and

loosing himself all over again.

Crossed between

the first,

the older

and the late

him.

Someone sits upon

His back

Like a chair

He’s in cannot-mode

Is-mode

Algebraic

Checked

And Calculated

The cannots are in the Details.

The two of us.

Exotics.

Beings.

People.

Untitled.

We are running towards the revolution

Of the Time for

ninu – a name,

and donkeys,

and men

and women

being as Untitled

and normal

as they want to be.

He wants to be

Should be

Here

Untitled

Not How

What

If

Who

When

Not broken

Condensed

Not a job

He is not all these things

He is so much less.

 

 

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