Björn Kuhligk

1

Če potuješ skozi neko deželo, je tista dežela vredna potovanja.
Če zapustiš eno naselje, prispeš v drugo.
Če si eno pesem zaključil, se lotiš naslednje.
Če je v tem zadovoljstvo, je v tem zadovoljstvo.
Če piješ pivo, piješ pivo.
Če je to lepo, je lepo.
Če bom pri tem še naprej vztrajal, bom pri tem še naprej vztrajal.
Če jem posebno v solati, jem posebno v solati.
Če je v tem zadovoljstvo, potem je v tem zadovoljstvo.
Če gradivo črpaš iz svojega življenja, pač ga.
Če bi si rad izmislil novo slovnico, si jo kar daj.
Če bi rad nekaj sesul na koščke, bi rad nekaj sesul na koščke.
Če bi rad nekaj naredil, bi rad nekaj naredil.
Če zdaj pri tem torej še naprej vztrajaš, potem pri tem še naprej vztrajaš.
Če en krompir reče nekaj drugemu krompirju, potem reče: nočem, da bi me pojedli.
Če lahko reče še kaj, potem utegne reči: v zemlji je bilo bolje.
Če zdaj pri tem še naprej vztrajaš, potem še naprej vztrajaš.

2

Če se kdo pelje od izvira k svetilnikom, se ne pelje od svetilnikov k izviru.
Če govorim o somornici, ne govorim o ribolovu na odprtem morju.
Če govorim o algebri, česar ne počnem nikoli, govorim torej o nečem, o čemer se mi niti ne sanja.
Če govorim o vremenu, lahko o tem pač govorim.
Če govorim o fotografiji, imam o tem nekaj pojma.
Če govorim o gledališču, vem premalo, da bi lahko o tem res govoril.
Če govorim o pesmih, si mislim, o tem pa res ne bi smel govoriti.
Če pišem pesmi, pišem pesmi.
Če piše kdo pesmi, je to dovolj.
Če se kdo pelje od izvira k svetilnikom, potlej pač se.
Če se kdo razneži, potlej mora očino goreti voda.
Če kdo obmolkne, obmolkne.
Če si kdo pri pisanju zastavi nalogo, ima ustvarjalno krizo.
Če ima kdo ustvarjalno krizo, bi moral svoj čas prebiti z drugimi.
Če kdo reče kriza, bi morala goreti kakšna država.
Če kdo napiše pesem, jo pač napiše.
Če ne napiše nobene, pač ne napiše nobene.
Če kdo ponavlja vedno znova kdo, ni v nekem trenutku več nikomur jasno, kdo je s tem mišljen.
Če kdo ponavlja vedno znova kdo, misli s tem samo sebe.
Če kdo ponavlja vedno znova kdo, so mišljeni vsi.
Če ponavljam vedno znova mi, bo kdo v nekem trenutku rekel, jaz nisem tvoj mi, moj ded pa že ni hotel streljati na sindikalni protest.
Če se kdo pelje od izvira k svetilnikom, ob njem plavajo lososi.
Če se kdo pelje od svetilnikov k izviru, ob njem plavajo lososi.

3

Vem, da je umetnost samo v žalostno kepo sprijeti skupek nezadostnosti.
Vem, da se mi zdi ta misel nadvse logična.
Vem, da s tem v mislih pišem pesmi.
Vem, da se mi zdijo ljudje, ki pišejo pesmi in se o njih kakorkoli javno izrekajo, čudni.
Vem, da se mi zdijo občasni ali redni kritiki poezije čudni, ker imajo jasno predstavo o tem, kaj naj bi bila pesem.
V nekem francoskem filmu sem videl sceno na plaži, v kateri neki moški reče neki ženski: »Madame, rad bi spal z vašo hčerko. Kar vam posvečam, naj bo kot pesem.«
Ne vem, kaj je pesem.
Vem, da se je nekomu, ki se ima za velikega ali pomembnega pesnika, utrgalo.
Vem, da lahko pesem napiše vsak malo večji otrok.
Vem, da mladina piše pesmi.
Vem, da sem odrasel in da še vedno pišem pesmi.
Vem, da je vsaka pesem samo v žalostno kepo sprijeti skupek nezadostnosti.
Nekoč sem zapisal, da bom pesem Karla Mickla, naslovljeno Pivo, nesel čez Alpe, da bi ji zagotovil nadaljnji obstoj.
Vem, da Alpe napačno ocenjujem.
Vem, da je vsaka pesem žalostna.
Vem, da čez Alpe nočem nositi nobene žalosti.
Vem, da pišem pesmi, ker hočem pisati pesmi.
Vem, da bo ta logika spremenila svet.

4

Pesem meji na zahodu na Združene države nesmiselnosti.
Pesem meji na vzhodu na prostovoljno gasilsko društvo.
Pesem meji na jugu na vrečko bio moke.
Pesem meji na severu na subvencionirano varstvo za otroke.
Pesem meji, če ima meje, na samovšečnost.
Pesem gre skozi neko telo.
Pesem gre skozi moje telo.
Pesem gre skozi moje telo in ne reče niti živjo.
Pesem gre in si vzame, kar potrebuje.
Pesem potrebuje leta, par minut.
Pesem včasih čisto zares izpade kot drek.
Pesem je tedaj izbrisana.
Pesem je tako bedasta kot tisti, ki o tem govori, ki o tem piše.
Pesem je tako prebrisana kot tisti, ki gre v muzej.
Pesem ne potrebuje pametnjačenja ali računov brez krčmarja.
Pesem ne potrebuje pisanja o pesmi.
Pesem hoče biti napisana, hoče biti izdelana.
Pesem noče biti napisana, noče biti izdelana.
Pesem je skuta.
Pesem hoče reči: Ko bom zaključena, me pustite pri miru.
Pesem hoče reči: V kozi je bilo bolje.
Pesem hoče reči: Od kod ti pravzaprav ideja, da veš, kaj hočem, in kako to, da sploh lahko govorim?

5

Pišem, če pride.
Pišem, če ne pride.
Pišem, če dospe.
Pišem, če ne dospe.
Pišem, če nezadostnosti.
Pišem, če ima kdo na majici napis »I’m a muslim, not a bomb.«
Pišem, če globina, višina, če tisto vmes.
Pišem, če potapljači na dah, če hitrostni plezalci.
Pišem, če ta prekleta žival bolečine.
Pišem, če to propadanje.
Pišem, če ta to.
Pišem, če lepota polja.
Pišem, če molčanje, tišina.
Pišem, če nezadostnosti.
Pišem, če zmrznjeni košček trate pred družinsko hišo.
Pišem, če gori voda.
Pišem, če gori država.
Pišem, če kobacajoči rokerji na stolčkih, ladijski kapitani v banjah.
Pišem, če ljubezen, sovraštvo, praznina intakonaprej.
Pišem, če zasneženi, na prehodu čakajoči pes in njegova nič hudega sluteča vdanost.
Pišem, če je obljubljena večja pozornost.
Pišem, če je ponujen denar.

6

Odgovorim, pišem jih z roko.
Odgovorim, od tega in s tem občasno in delno živim in dobro in hvala.
Odgovorim, da na to ne bom odgovoril, saj vendar tudi romanopisca ne boste vprašali, zakaj ne piše pesmi.
Odgovorim, da premore več erotike celo vsaka stolpnica ali pritlična hiša.
Odgovorim, da ima vsako nepretočno jezero več vsega.
Odgovorim, da gasilska veselica v Spodnjem Dupleku razveseli več ljudi.
Odgovorim, da je ta dejavnost bolj smešna od gasilske veselice v Spodnjem Dupleku.
Odgovorim, da je ta dejavnost bolj resna od gasilske veselice v Spodnjem Dupleku.
Odgovorim, da počnem nekaj, kar počne mladina.
Odgovorim, da gre za slab stik.
Odgovorim, da gre za obrt.
Odgovorim, da sem ob tem včasih srečen.
Odgovorim, pišem jih z roko.

I

When one travels through a country, it is a country worth travelling through.
When one leaves a settled home town, one settles for another home town.
When one finishes writing a poem, one writes another poem.
If that is a joy, then that is a joy.
If one is drinking a beer, then one is drinking a beer.
If that is a pleasure, then it is a pleasure.
When I start talking like this, I keep talking like this.
When I eat franks & beans, then I eat franks & and I eat beans.
If one calls that joy, then it is joy.
When one uses one's life for material, then one's life becomes material.
When one wishes to invent a grammar, one feels free.
When one wishes to implant a new perception, one plants.
If one wishes to pound, one wishes to pound.
When one continues like this, then one is continuing like this.
When a potato speaks to another potato, it says, I don't want to be eaten.
When it says something else, it says, it was better in the dirt.
If one keeps going on like this, then one keeps going

II

If one strolls from fountains to lighthouses, one is not strolling from lighthouses to fountains.
If I speak of brackish water, I am not speaking about all the fish in the sea.
If I speak of algebra, which I won't, I am speaking of ideas I don't understand.
When I talk about the weather, well, I talk just fine about that.
If I talk about photography, I'm talking with a clue.
If I talk about theatre, I don't know what I'm talking about.
If I talk about poems, I shouldn’t be talking.
When I write poems, I write poems.
If one writes poems, that is good enough.
If one wanders from fountains to lighthouses, from fountains to lighthouses one wanders.
If one wallows in melodrama then the heath & heather must burn.
When one goes quiet, one goes quiet.
If one gives oneself a 'writing exercise', one has a 'writing emergency'.
When one says 'emergency', a country sparks.
If one has a 'writing emergency', one ought to visit with friends.
If one writes a poem, then one writes a poem.
If one writes no poems, then one writes no poems.
If no one writes a poem, then no one writes a poem.
If one keeps saying 'one' then eventually no one knows which 'one' is meant.
If one keeps saying 'one', one means only oneself.
If one keeps saying 'one', everyone is meant.
Whenever I say 'we' someone raises an eyebrow and says, 'We are not we – my grandfather wasn't spurring horses into picket lines.'
If one travels from fountains to lighthouses, salmon still swim.
If one travels from lighthouses to fountains, salmon still swim.

III

I understand that art is only the sad tallying of deficits.
I know this thought seems obvious and logical to me.
I know I write my poems with this in mind.
I know people who speak openly about their poems are strangers to me.
I know I find critics strange because they have ideas about what a poem should be.
Once, I saw a French film where a man on a beach proposes to a woman on a beach: 'Madame,' he said, 'I would like to sleep with your daughter. It will be a poem I dedicate to you.'
I do not know what a poem is.
I know anyone who considers themselves to be an important poet has a hole in their head.
I know any kid can write poems.
I know teenagers write poems.
I know that I am an adult, still, I write poems.
I know every poem is an accounting of deficits.
I know I once wrote that I would carry the poem 'Snow' by Sarah Broom over the Alps to ensure its eternal existence in the hearts and minds of readers everywhere.
I know that every poem is sad.
I know I do not want to carry any more sadness over the Alps.
I understand I have lied to myself about how big the Alps are.
I know I write poems because I want to write poems.
I know, with this logic, I too am a mountaineer.

IV

The poem requires a visa to enter the United States of Aimlessness.
The poem requires a visa to enter the volunteer fire department.
The poem is stopped on the border of a sack of stoneground organic flour.
The poem is stopped on the border of subsidized child care.
The poem enforces it's own borders drawn straight from its own smugness.
The poem travels like a diplomat through a body.
The poem travels through my body and doesn't even nod hello.
The poem takes what it needs.
The poem needs years, a couple of minutes.
The poem is a piece of shit sometimes.
The poem is then deleted.
The poem is as dim-witted as the one who writes about it, talks about it.
The poem is as clever as one who reads labels at museums.
The poem doesn't need one's smart-alec, nor one's Pollyanna.
The poem turns a deaf ear to your praise, your critique.
The poem wants to be written, to be made.
The poem does not want to be written, to be made.
The poem is cottage cheese.
The poem wants to say, it was warmer inside the cow.
The poem wants to say, leave me alone, I'll be written when I'm in my right mind.
The poem wants to say, how would you know what I want and why would I ever speak to you?

V

I write when something comes
I write when something does not come
I write when something comes back
I write when something does not come back
I write when the t-shirt says 'I'm a muslim, not a bomb'
I write when the deficits
I write when the depths, the heights, the inbetweens
I write when the crushed lungs of free-divers, the flaming legs of fell runners
I write when these terminal pain junkies
I write when this self-neglect
I write when This
I write when the waving beauty of a field
I write when the shhhh, the silence
I write when the deficits
I write when the frosted front garden
I write when the heath burns
I write when the country burns
I write when children rock out in their high chairs
I write when rubber ducky brings the fun
I write when the love, the hate, the emptiness, the etcetera, etcetera, etcetera
I write when the snow-dusted dog stands clueless as the green man returns to red
I write when the circulation is healthy, the broadcast wide
I write when money is on the table

VI

I answer: I write by hand.
I answer: sometimes and partly and I don't order steak every night but I eat OK thank you very much.
I answer: any squat building, any skyscraper is more erotic than metaphor.
I answer: a still pond holds more of anything, more everything.
I answer: because of a faulty circuit.
I answer: a firefighter's festival in Dingwall offers more joy to the world.
I answer: a firefighter's festival in Dingwall doesn't take itself so seriously.
I answer: a firefighter's festival in Dingwall is less ludicrous than this act.
I answer with a question: why doesn't the novelist write a poem?
I answer: I do what teenagers do.
I answer: sometimes it does make me happy.
I answer: this is craft.
I answer: I make them by hand.