How the Literary World Reinvented the Book Festival in Real Time

As the literary world moved online in 2020, a central question for many organizations was how to manage the annual festivals that gather thousands of readers from around the world.

Kilde: How the Literary World Reinvented the Book Festival in Real Time

Liv, Kærlighed og Død, i søgen efter trøst. Kenneth Krabats poesi

– intro og index fra ROSSO.NIENTE. (2017)

From  foreword of the Versi Guasti-publication of my ROSSO.NIENTE. by editor Alex Tonelli, written in Italian, nov. 2016 (2017) in Italian.

The Italian text google translated and corrected [PDF]

ROSSO.NIENTE. index (Italian publication order)

01 12.000 røde ting at pakke ud

01 12.000 cose da spacchettare

01 12.000 red things to unwrap

02 Enhver nårsomhelst

02 Da un momento all’altro

02 Any minute now

03 Hver eneste gang

03 Ogni singola volta

03 Every single time

04 TIL KAMP TIL KAMP TIL KAMP eller At dreje rundt om sig selv mange gange for at træde underlaget ned, som en hund

04 LOTTA LOTTA LOTTA ovvero Rigirarti più e più volte per appiattire il letto, come un cane

04 FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT or To spin around yourself many times in order to flatten the bed, like a dog

05 at møde døden, Cadeau til Cathrine Ertmann

05 Incontrare la morte, Cadeau per Cathrine Ertmann

05 Meeting Death, Cadeau to Cathrine Ertmann

06 Det ene menneske

06 Il singolo essere umano

06 The Single Human

07 Noter til digt om værdien af erkendt liv

07 Note per una poesia sul valore di una vita risolta

07 Notes for poem about the value of acknowledged (or avowed) life

08 når jeg skal afsted

08 Quando dovrò andare

09 As I Must Go

09 denne tykke lyd

09 Questo suono denso

09 This thick sound

10 DØD1

10 Morte

10 Death1

11 Dumme børn, døde børn

11 Figli sciocchi, figli morti

11 Silly Children, Dead Children

12 Dansen for

12 Non un qualunque cappello fuori moda

12 Not just any old hat

13 Luften fra i aftes

13 L’aria di ieri notte

13 The air of last night


Litteratur-tidsskrifter A-A

56 danske, 56 svenske, 32 norske, 1 finsk, 4 finlandssvenske og 2 amerikanske tidsskrifter, som trykker og skriver om poesi (feb 2017)

Underneden følger først en liste med 150 litterære magasiner – 56 danske, 56 svenske, 32 norske, 1 finsk, 4 finlandssvenske og 2 amerikanske tidsskrifter, som aktivt trykker og skriver om poesi.

Jeg aner, at der er flere… Kender du flere?

De fleste oplistede tidsskrifter modtager digte tilsendt uopfordret. Send ind!
[læs også: Hvornår sender jeg ind til tidsskrifter og magasiner?]

I bunden af siden kan tillige en liste over magasiners arkiver beskues og aflidte blade og sites i de skandinaviske lande mindes – om de nu måtte vurderes relevante for eftertiden eller melankolien. Continue reading “Litteratur-tidsskrifter A-A”

no part

we hope you never will…

You are not one of us.

Your dialect is not an issue. You have no dialect.

The lingo, the references, the “what’s this?” of people, who share similar talents and interests, none of it is familiar to you.

You do not connect. You do not belong. Mind, heart, body even, and so called spirit, an artist in the broken sense. An uncomfortable analyst you are – rarely with a home, even among peers, the threat of annihilating analysis being too great.

You are alone. The comings and goings of people, in the distance, through clouds, or binoculars, or through the “eyes of people”, that is your material. Dense and varied and manageable from afar.

Observer. Alone.

For you own safety you claim to enjoy the lives and emotions that you invent in order to let your thoughts gain present reality in all of your sensory perception and your empathy and aestetic talent.

You do not look towards the stars of the Universe, you look but towards “an understanding of society”. Something you perceive as an undefined date of future lessening of chaos. A coming to balance of mind with MIND – an equilibrium you will never achieve, not being “ofsociety”, and not even IF SO.

You know this.

Through birth or upbringing, little talents for managing talents, or lack of undefined-gift, what ever… you are no part. You are alwaystranslating. Always being translated in return. Never being seen.

Never being.

Because you are without. One cannot be without.

We pity you. We, the society, never say. As individuals we pity you.

Your fortunate “We” is visibly meaningful to you. And so is your bravadery meaningfully visible to us. You feel you benefit from us, in your miserable isolation. We thank you for not having to be you. We are most truly grateful.

We will further benefit from you.

In our massive collective.

You suspect that sometimes.

Sometimes even as you accept our pat on your head in what ever form suits you the best.

We will gladly accept all of your gifts of vision and pass them on to our people. And.

We will protect ourselves from your humanely lesser talent. And.

We will look at our collective, non-world building selves, through your soul and sensory perception and wonder at the truth of it, hmm…?

We will shower you with accolades and the fulfillment of your immediate and long-term dreams and desires, as you come to deserve.

And when you are hurt, we will look after you as one looks after a sick egg layer.

And with due honors we will pass on your accomplishmentss in the service of mankind to the annals.

We will never let you in.

Not that we could, if we would. Why destroy the better-world beauty that you see us with and the precious beauty of our following your pain?

We cannot.

We are too many to agree.

You are the one, who has to change.

We hope you never will.