Poems from “Framandkar” (2008) (eng. “Stranger”)

Time doesn’t heal this wound
the gap between thought and flesh
genitals
don’t grow by themselves
keep bleeding every month

I create myself
a name
The body
is my logo

This is my penis
these words are
the blood that
embody this
poem, hang
between my
legs, filling the
boxers with new
weight

When the sun shines from behind
my father’s shadow
walks in front of me

You saw me before
I saw myself
Now I’m scared that you
won’t recognize me
can’t see
your son

The men in the books were always
desired by women
and still
this feeling of
something forbidden and different
bigger than the button
I could put my finger on
and masturbate until I forgot

I exist
in my lover’s mouth when he says
“You think like a man”
and he smiles although he doesn’t
like men the way he
likes me and I
smile even if I
know just that

There were nothing I wanted more
than your manhood
and I took it
in the night and kept it
until I realized that it was
always yours alone
And left

Did you ever wake up
while I was dreaming
Did you see a man
sleeping next to you
Did you turn away to be able to forget
that you had seen me
Naked

I wake up in the morning
with throbbing pole
against the door to reality
as if it believes
it exists
Like the dragon wakes in a cave
where no one sees
where no one is

There’s an echo
of something I didn’t say
a shadow
of what I was not
in my mother’s eyes
They’re asking how to grieve
someone who’s not gone
Where to place the memorial
of she who was not

I’ve translated these poems from my book Framandkar, to be reliesed on april 7. 2008, published by Tiden Norsk Forlag. Please help me corrct misspellings and other errors by leaving a comment. If anyone would like to help me translate some more I’d be thankful.