Jan Oskar Hansen Poems

Letter to a young Poet

Dear Raman, so you want me to read your poem and state my opinion.
Well, you are fond of words and you are stacking them up in your poem.
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The Doll
When mum went to work at the fish factory, there was no
money for baby-sitters; she gave me a black rag doll, to play
with. The doll, called Tom, was a caricature and today would
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Winter-light
No one walks on the old road anymore, not even on a day
when almond trees are in bloom. Blue weed and thorny
bushes are shooting through, one day the road will be out
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The Exile.

You can’t leave this town for the next six years, the magistrate had said.
Rang my house, no one there, I wanted someone to send for my dog so
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Great Sutton
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Three short poems
An Echo of a Song.

As vapour trail of past dreams
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Senryu

Perfect rose shivers
Fears being picked at dawn
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Earthquake in Haiti

The corpses look like they have been flung down from the sky,
rejected by god for being too poor. Broken limbs and stillness in
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The Phone Call

Phone rings I finally answer, it’s my daughter she wants to come home.
“Where are you ringing from? I ask she doesn’t know. Tell her I have no
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The Great encounter

The mountains, that kept the sky from strangling us,
has all but disappeared. The sky has now swallowed
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