From: hornpete@uctvax.uct.ac.za (Peter Horn)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Carsten Knoch: Poems
Date: 4 Oct 92 18:13:40 +0200
Organization: University of Cape Town


CARSTEN KNOCH



Carsten Knoch was born in Germany and grew up in both Namibia and South Africa.
He is currently finishing a degree in German literature at the University of
Cape Town and would like to pursue an academic career. 



Three poems.


CARSTEN KNOCH

so you want to write poetry

so you want to write poetry:
have you considered the odds?
do you want to kill people with your words
carefully negotiated so as to form
ak 47's and hand granades?
you think that
your bouquets of expression
are way beyond
what the masses would read
and act on -
well, you are wrong.

your verses 
are taxis at war 
when you use them 
in the name of the struggle
your tendency is destructive
though politicially correct
do the people really listen
when their poeple's poets speak?
don't they just feel the pounding
of the ups and downs of their voices
in the vibrations 
of the public address system
and its ten thousands watts?

so you want to write poetry:
rather be quiet
rather don't write
than having a position but nothing to say -
when praise becomes politics
the voices of poets
resemble
the voices
of politicians.

			january 1992


CARSTEN KNOCH

arrival

a generation
gone through doubt
in a day or less
yet our birthdates
concur with the spurs of time
dug into the furry sides 
of a white stallion called
lie

for you and me
who've been there
even before we arrived
who returned when
all had been viewed
seen and digested
the warm black hum of the night
is the crumpled dream
of those still dreaming
of a dream

to determine the song
our guts are warmed by soul food
to establish the poem
we feed on utopia a campfire
and angered by the flames of green
we retract into the natural cool
of daylight just blocks away
without a desire for shelter

(insert tabs before all lines from here)

the surest way
to interpret your soul
is to look at the back of a mirror
and scratch out your name or
someone's signature
on the grey damp surface

then plan your exit
into the night of emigration
enter an airport 
book a flight
buy some magazines
a hamburger maybe and
walk trough the brightly
reflected x-ray eyes
of the security tunnel
smiling gently at the officials
knowing the gun in your head
is safe

on the plane
your activist eyes are safely
attuned to the plastic smiles and
the plastic food
generating no suspicion
knowing 
about the letters
on the mirror at home

(no more tabs - normal)

the streetscape
cannot even resemble the body
our heavy boots shatter
cubes of ice and mud
and multiply in sound and
aggression

the ice is a mirror 
with no reverse side
we bend down into the mud
pick our crystal
and delicately press with
our leather-clad fingers
observing the green flame
within



CARSTEN KNOCH

shop

( please center all)

cleaning up shop
storing away the gas lamps
into the sheltered shades of shelves
where they cohabit with jars
jars of jam and tins of fish
beans peaches brushes plates
america deeply inside this continent
no jungle the land
and a bicycle cycling along
the rim of the roof and treetops
around and around and around
the sheets white and starched
flap slowly the beaten air left
by the wings of the cycle
a handful of sweets
carefully selected according to colour
all one cellophane shape some soft
some harder
in the hands that were just holding 
fifty cents money doesn't stink here
then outside the sharing goes not far
beyond the circle of the cycle
when the cornfield centers around
grey flaky clay ground touches
the feet sometimes where the shoes
don't hold
cleaning up shop
storing away the gas lamps
the fat woman in pink
whistles to her dog to catch the cycle
the cycle of heaven
barking brutally the dog enters the velvet sky
runs on clouds, pisses against the roots of the sun
and gives up on the bicycle
which races against
against the earth sky woman dog
against speed light america africa
against us with us

-- 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Horn 
German Department, UCT 
43 Trevor Road, Lansdowne 7764, Cape, Republic of  South Africa . 
Phone Home ZA-(021)696-1983		e-Mail: HORNPETE@UCTVAX.UCT.AC.ZA 
      Work ZA-(021)650-2936		Fax ZA-(021) 650-3726 
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Peter Horn, Walking through our sleep (Poems), Ravan Press 1974
Peter Horn, Poems 1964-1989, Ravan Press 1991
Peter Horn, An Axe in the Ice (Poems), COSAW Publishing House 
forthcoming September/October 1992
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Ravan Press, P.O.Box 31134, Braamfontein 2017, Republic of South Africa
COSAW Publishing House, P.O.Box 421007, Fordsburg 2033, Republic of 
South Africa.
USA: Ohio University Press Fax (614) 593-4536
Britain: Central Books, Fax (71) 378-1811
Australia: New Era Books, Fax (02) 596-0045
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