Foreword

The first poet I ever knew of was Jan-Erik Vold, a fixture in my native Norway. He is famous, or infamous perhaps, for a poem defending white bread, and for another poem which resorts the letters of the word "kulturuke" ("culture week") into infinity. The man in the street views him as sort of a state-sponsored weirdo, though many nevertheless have an affection for him.

I didn't make up my mind about him until I read a poem of his in school. It went like this:

The snow.
The tracks.
The snow.

In Norwegian, this poem is comprised of three words, as the articles are folded into the nouns. After the initial shock and disgust at the idea that someone can write three words and call themselves a writer, I realized that this guy was a genius rather than a hack. Since there were only three words, I read them over and over, and with each reading came an increasing understanding and appreciation of the vast worlds Vold had created. His poem is an expanse. It sounds silent, and feels quiet, but it is not without action. It's impossible not to read between the lines and write stories in that snow, or before it, or after.

This idea that you can say a lot with few words is what drives me to make my own attempts at poetry. Some of the material here dates back to cirka 1996, while new poems are added as I write them (the dates cited are publishing dates). Needless to say, I'm not crazy about everything I've ever written, but I include just about everything I liked when I finished it. You may find some of it to be unbearably terrible, but I hope you enjoy some of it – and I'd love to hear from you if you do.

Here are some of my personal favorites, in case you don't know where to start:

Family Culture
A personal poem with a universal, perhaps political touch. I wrote this shortly after 9/11. The broadcast mentioned is the "concert for New York" simulcast.

there is an ocean between us
Another very personal poem, but I think people can relate. It's about going to bed like enemies, and then gradually realizing your differences are not as severe as the love you feel.

pocket monster
Kind of a puzzle I wrote a few years ago, after hearing about Pokemon seizures in Japan. The poem has nothing to do with Pokemon, I just borrowed the "pocket monster" phrase because I found it fascinating.

landscapes
An attempt at creating a landscape through words, while communicating something more than just form. Similar to a still life painting that tells you a story rather than just a parade of objects.

stars in progress
It's probably schmalzy crap, but it's a noble attempt and I really felt it when I wrote it.

To see a list of all the poems on this site, click the Index button at top right and browse through the pages. You can also use the Search feature to find specific words or passages. Notice that some poem titles on this site are followed by an audio icon. Clicking it will load an mp3 file of the poem being read by yours truly.

–Bård Edlund.