आज़ादी विशेषांक / Freedom Special

अंक 13 / Issue 13

Can you hear it?: Claus Ankersen

Pages: 1 2


Mums filibaba



On the barstool, a swine in human form

is oinking

it’s snout buried in a plate of nachos

it wears a broad wool headband

and looks like it thinks it looks like

Elaine from Seinfeld

Two sows are throning by it’s side, dressed in pretty outfits

fashionably draped on their aging hams

the swine lifts its snout

Oink, it grunts to its girlfriends

Oink-oink, they smile, and blink their blue, blue pig’s-eyes beneath painted brows


Human onomatopoetica 101

Sneer, bark, tweet, bow-wow, moo, baa, oink

Oink, blop, hiss, buzz, howl, meow

Howl, wauv, wee, hooray, yahoo

Hey-ya, hop, hooray


Skankeli- skongle, dangle-doo

Do you know what we should do?

We should dance the clog-clog dance

Winkely Wankely woo


All the animals in the field go umchi-um, and all the cars on the street go umchi-um

all the joggers in the park run umchi-um, and inside the apartments they moan


Ah, he moans

Oh, she moans

Oh she moans

Ah, he moans

Donk, goes the bedpost against the wall

Squeak, shouts the mattress

Tick-tock, ticks the clock

Di-de-li-de-lit, calls the textmessage

Honk, honks the horn on the street

Screech, whine the tires

Bang, crash the steel

Crack, splits the bones

Splash, flows the blood, while others are having fun going at it:


Oh, he moans

Eh, she moans

Ooh, he moans

Eeh, she moans


Smack- smack, smacks the bodies

Slurp-slurp, smacks the lips

Gang-gang-gang-gang drums the bedpost

Oui-i, oui-i, sings the bed

Tick-tack, goes the clock

Ba-buu, howls the ambulance

Dong-dong, announce the churchbell


Cause all the beasts on the field go, umchi-um

and all the kids in the club go umchi-um

all the girls in the park go umchi-um

and all the guys in the pub go glug glug glug glug


You be quiet now

and listen


the sound of the heart that beats

the sound of time passing

the sound of the blood pumping, the thought thinking, the wheel spinning, the arrow hitting

the brush painting

Hear the tree singing in the wind

the sound of the cheek blushing

the sound of eyes smiling

the sound of moist lips

snow whirling

Listen to the sound of a finger caressing a face, or gliding

into a narrow crack

the sound of friendship

the sound of love

the sound of spring

the sound of falling in love

the sound

of life


My legs serenade a hymn to the corner, I

close in

on the sound of your breath, close, so close by

my springy step journeying


the stairways

so I can feel your heart

from within and nearly touch it

As we come together

you laugh

‘You came in my eye’

‘But I came inside you, I answer


‘yes’ you smile



The sound of a flower blooming

The sound of an egg, cracking

The sound of a spiders web

the sound of sunshine

the sound of lacquer and oil and the sound

of stockings

the sound of hunches, deceit and depression


Hear the sound of wisdom

the sound of waving goodbye on a train station in Novgorod – or Tampere

the sound of Alice in Wonderland

the sound of a boy turning into Monday, the sound

of beating sexes, the sound

of sound so soft, wet and sweet, the sound of hair growing

Listen to the sound of strength, the sound

of red

the sound of heat, the sound of south

Listen to the sound of the midday-heat, the sound

of spears

the sound of life, the sound

of sound

The sound

of your long legs, the sound

of your huge tits, the sound

of your white teeth, the sound

of your high cheekbones

the sound of your slim waist

the sound of your Parisian butt

the sound

of your spread legs

the sound of your eyes

when they look into mine

the sound of fingers bonding

the sound of codes being cracked

of twosomeness and shared moments

the sound of sudden stillness in a sea of noise

the sound of the riddle being solved, the sound

of the eurekan insight

the sound

of a Gordian knot

being cut


Can you hear it, when I think of you?

Does my voice ring clear and loud to your inner ear?

Does it resonate

along your inner corridors

when I call out, does the echo sing across the mountain walls

of your mind’s Himalaya

Do you hear it roar blood-red

down the Niagara of your heart:

I love you!

Pages: 1 2

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