Mark van Tongele (Belgium / writes in Dutch)
1956
Born in the Flanders area of Belgium, Mark
von Tongele made his publishing debut in the mid- 1980s in several literary
magazines. His central themes included sun, light, and language, which came to
structure his poetry as a whole.
In his second volume, Vaderlatingen (1997), von Tongele focuses
on oppositions in an attempt to reconcile issues of life and death. Life and
death become, however, are only part of the many oppositions—including darkness
and light, the past and the future—upon which the poet centers his concerns.
His next volume moves more in the direction of the life forces,
dispelling, as critic Yves T'Sjoen describes it, the gloom of the previous
volume. Here von Tongele moves to an increasingly vitalist stance that
continues his following volumes, Taalwaterval (2003) and Luchthonger
(2004).
As T'Sjoen summarizes von Tongele's work (translation by David Colmer):
Van Tongele’s poetry doesn’t just dynamite
conventional language; with its inventive word choice, rich palette of
linguistic and stylistic registers, highly conscious deployment of metre and
rhyme, accelerations and decelerations, images and formal idiosyncrasies, it
dynamises language by continually creating its own highly individual linguistic
reality. It really is time – another key word in these poems – for these
explorations of language and life to reach and enchant a wider audience.
Inviting the reader to plunge into that linguistic universe.
BOOKS OF POETRY
Zij gedichten (Ghent:
Poëziecentrum, 1994); Vaderlatinge (Tielt: Lannoo, 1997); Lopend
licht (Tielt: Lannoo, 2001); Ochtendrood en co (Tielt: Lannoo,
2002); Taalwaterval (Tielt: Lannoo, 2003); Luchthonger (Tielt:
Lannoo, 2004); Gedichten (Tielt/Amsterdam: Lannoo/Atlas, 2005); Met
de plezierboot mee (Amsterdam: Atlas, 2007): Lichtspraak (Amsterdam:
Atlas, 2008)
Dance with Me
Look at me embody
me keep me under control
color my lenses black
kick me destroy me
don’t leave me cold
tear the plate from my
breast don’t be scared
of my skin smell
my sweat long for me
kiss me without lips lust lick
my metal tongue
clean clear the grind
from my joints send the blood
singing through my veins make me happen
turn
me into a god make me shine.
—Translated from the Dutch by David
Colmer
(from Gedicten, 2005)
For a reading of the poem above by the
author in Dutch, click below
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwcLpmZQPG0&feature=related
Snow-blind
Wrapped in a flurry of snow on the beach,
I am caught in hell's waiting room,
reduced to an amalgam of dread and desire,
listening to the peace of the sea that
surrounds me,
as if she knows nothing of the monsters
that belabour the light in her calm swell.
I'd love to grin and yell: one two three
heave ho!
—Translated from the Dutch by David
Colmer
(from Met de plezierboot mee, 2007)
Ideas about Dying
Do I get my hands on the key to time? will
I become a ray of light bent by gravity
on its way to the ultimate wormhole, a
black hole
that sucks me in and emits me on the other
side,
bright and moving in one straight line?
will a
dazzling radiance take place within me,
illuminating me as an encyclopaedic
revelation
elevating me indisputably to a place by
the sun?
will I drift like a black dot on the face
of chance?
do I become an eternal reflection in a
dead future?
a ring of memory playing for all eternity?
a longitudinal vibration? a surface smear?
will I flow into nothingness like ink on a
blotter?
—Translated from the Dutch by David
Colmer
(from Gedicten, 2005)
At Her Grave
I went down on my knees to lay a rose
below the photo
on her stone. The carefree sun shone on my
back.
A sail's breadth of azure that chiselled
my moment
in the marble and the realization that she
was gone forever.
The ground under my feet shimmered with
memories.
Wading together in the froth of the sea.
I heard her singing a last lullaby,
and humming along were the shades of the
trees.
—Translated from the Dutch by David
Colmer
The Therapeutic Mirror
Accept for once that wonderworking exists
and assume that during dream sleep,
tonight perhaps,
you will undergo a miraculous visitation:
death
falls outside the grace of time.
constellations
adopt a different thrum. dawn is riotous
in the gulfing
gleam of your most intimate self. look:
defrowning
from folded shadows on the floor of your
melancholy,
restless hummingbirds of light. like that,
you flutter out
from a row of pain trees, hovering in the
dead wind,
always ascending in the reborn morning,
always clarifying, beyond all troubles and
difficulty.
awakened, will you consider your
resurrection?
will you behave accordingly later that
day?
—Translated from the Dutch by David
Colmer
(from Gedicten, 2005)
_________
English language translations copyright
©2009 by David Colmer
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