Ein Kooperations-Gedicht von Sasha Lavrenchuk und Nora Zapf / a cooperative poem by Sasha Lavrenchuk and Nora Zapf
Die beiden Autorinnen Sasha Lavrenchuk und Nora Zapf lernten sich vor nicht allzu langer Zeit in Münchens Literaturkreisen kennen. Ihr für die Kooperationen 2023 gemeinsam geschriebenes Gedicht veröffentlichen wir hier - first time online!
Vorab beschreiben die beiden Dichterinnen ihre gemeinsame Arbeit und ihr Kennenlernen mit ihren eigenen Worten:
Sashas Gedichte gefielen mir gleich - sie haben so etwas Leichtes, zugleich aber wiegen sie viel. Sie fühlen sich ein in die Umgebung, in Dinge, Algen, Fliegen. Ich fand ihre Texte so faszinierend simpel und witzig, aber auch direkt. Als sie mich gefragt hat, ob ich die Gedichte übersetzen mag für die Lesung bei unseren drei lyrischen ichs, habe ich gleich zugesagt. Die Lesung hat sehr Spaß gemacht und danach haben wir beschlossen, zusammen zu schreiben für das Format der Kooperationen, wo im Import-Export in München sich immer 2 bis 3 Lyriker*innen zusammentun, um ein 5minütiges Gedicht zu schreiben. Hier haben wir angeknüpft an ihre Texte und meine Homogloben... ich schrieb die ersten Zeilen und musste dabei an einen Text von Sasha über die kleinste bekannte Fliege denken, dann kam unser gemeinsamer Text als Antwort-Antwort-Antwort-Email, immer ein paar Zeilen am Tag bzw. alle paar Tage. Am meisten liebe ich ihre Stelle über die opinion als onion, die immer wieder geschält werden kann, unter der immer eine andere liegt, die man am besten in der Pfanne glasig anbraten sollte... Ich finde schön, dass unsere Kooperation weitergehen wird.
We met with Nora this summer during the preparation for the 31st edition of "Meine drei lyrischen ichs". She translated some of my poems for the event so incredibly delicate and precise, it was really touching. When I was suggested to take part in the Kollaborationen 2023, I at once thought about co-writing with Nora. I've read her poetry collections and I felt so much in common with her. I was super glad, that she agreed. We met once before starting the process - to set some kind of "rules" or directions of our common work, which honestly were few. Those were: she starts with the two first lines, and I follow. We write in present, but it would be about any time. We don't write intentionally about politics, but it always can slip there, as we think about it. We keep in mind our common idea of getting inside of another species and speaking on its' behalf. But we go with the flow, and we stick to those rules only if feel so. They were more to say buoys, you are supposed not to swim behind them, but it is still up to you to decide. And it worked great in terms of the flow: no stress, no fear, floating number of lines, floating rhythm, three dots, feeling of a game and at the same time of a diary, reflecting a month of our lives and changing feelings.
Verschwommenes Selfie der beiden Dichterinnen am Tag der Kooperationen-Lesung im September 2023, München ©privat
I, as a fly, have heavy wings, dry,
that stick to my body
I, as a fly, tend always to pry,
everything in this world concerns me.
I am so tired, tired of looking
down, missing the dancing of the trees,
tired of being considered crooked,
clown, a blackball and the least.
Would you bear my critical flicker-fusion frequency?
My thousands of facets bring me too much
I'd unsee.
Unseen.
What did time ever stop for
a wound another wound and
Unsinn.
I give a dot to it.
I just drop it.
Can't spend my 28 days on...
we will irritate the system
the rhythm and the rime,
the next days, we are running out of
...
the next one and the next, I could't know
or control it, let me please know what you
think,
your opinion is important to me, I valuate it
a lot.
“opinion is just onion”
Opinion is just onion,
unfold it, and you'll cry,
but it is sweet when fried.
Just set it all on fire.
No rhythm, no rime - illusion.
Thats infinitely correct,
as the value is a statue
we put it on a small hill
and make it to a bigger
bigger one that digs
up empty bottles
out of the green, clear
sea, that we...
grasp immediately,
clutch it to our chest,
then search hastily for a message, -
but there's nothing.
Nothing.
As there's no value outwards,
only within ourselves.
We are the only bottle,
stuffed with...
feathers, venes, with tears,
value value whats a value
a human life
value value what has value
a blind sight
seeing tour
a blackout
no?
the home of a cow.
I am broke what does that mean.
I am broken what does that mean.
I am mean - that's when I'm broke.
I am mean - that's when I'm broken.
That's what you meant, right?
My home is on cow.
I, as a fly, have heavy wings, dry,
that stick to my body
I, as a fly, tend always to pry,
everything in this world concerns me.
