Untitled (Cardamom Coffee)

I speak to maps,
with my writer’s fingertips
tracing borders, roads
blisterlessly walked.

In his voice
dwells the dust of deserts
the scent of rose water
and nostalgic songs.

beyond the end of maps
the world is limitless
unowned, but how can
unknown be claimed?

forests always seem
to stretch beyond a further tree,
that’s where (and why)
my neighbor sleeps.

, and we talked, and told
slowly growing old
drinking cardamom coffee,
calling this our home.

Untitled (Coffee)
Jannis Kounellis

Today I host dVerse MTB where we write Cadralor and I also provide a possibility to write poetry inspired by the Nobel Prize in Literature which will be given to Abulrazak Gurnah.

The pub opens 9 PM CET.

October 7, 2021

32 responses to “Untitled (Cardamom Coffee)

  1. This is absolutely gorgeous and oh so perfect a poem for the season, Bjorn 😀 Especially like; “In his voice dwells the dust of deserts/the scent of rose water/and nostalgic songs.” Wow! 💝💝

  2. I love the thread that runs through this, exploring the ideas of borders, breaking down barriers and belonging.

    blisterlessly walked.’ is a delightful phrase, and I love the wordplay of

    ‘the world is limitless
    unowned, but how can
    unknown be claimed?’

    – a good question!

  3. Bjorn,
    “Calling this our home”: so poignant, as if a place on a map is not all there is to “home.” Beautifully penetrating.

  4. What a beautiful form and response to the writer Bjorn. I felt this was a conversation between two people, neighbors far and close. That last stanza nailed this connection.

  5. Oh, I really love this, Björn. I feel like the narrator(s) is/are related to the Librarian. Or maybe they are all parts of you. 😀
    The traveling, migrations, so poignant, and to sit and drink that cardamon coffee together and tell their tales.

  6. Never heard of cardamom coffee but now I need to learn more. Seems the long conversations in the green could be stimulating and spicy. Beautiful poetry and ideas.

  7. The first stanza to me, is so reflective….tracing borders on the map with fingertips. We who are “at home” know not what immigrants seeking asylum go through.
    And then, for me, the immigrant’s voice – dust from the journey, memories of songs from his land/culture. And then the question of a limitless world….how can there not be room? The movement through the stanzas to the end where we sit over cardamom coffee….that sweet engulfing scent, aroma therapy in a way.
    A wonderful poem.

  8. This is just so delightful, so rich and evocative, from first word to last. I love the magic of this poem, how you’ve drawn inspiration both from the poetic form, as well as the ideas of the Nobel Lit. winner – the quote he offered etc. And even not knowing this, I would still sit with this poem, lingering, asking myself the same questions, drowning in the bittersweet idea of in/exclusion, transience/permanence etc. Just brilliant Bjorn!

  9. This poem is so cosy and it fills out a relationship being mapped out both in conversation and in experience. Much enjoyed, thanks for hosting!

  10. I so enjoyed the threads of this, and then I realised I had moments in mine that touched a thread which enlivened me more. The significant affect is the end of maps, wonderful.

  11. “Beyond the end of maps” is where yearning and imagination live, and you evoke it so beautifully here. If I’d known this poem was coming, oddly, I’d have read it last, because I think it encapsulates the form.

  12. From the opening line you have this poem build a persona, and a world for it to inhabit, that is superimposed on a more mundane reality and completely leaves that normalcy if you will behind in the dust. The subconscious of desire and dare rules this exploration beyond the map. How do you own what is unknown, indeed, though many try. You have used the form to perfection, and each stanza is complete in itself, tied and woven together by the taste of coffee and reflection at the end. Thanks so much for introducing me to this form, Bjorn, and fr using it so well here for me to read

  13. I love all the tastes and scents of this poem, Bjorn. Particularly the “roads blisterlessly walked,” the rosewater, the cardomom coffee. The feeling of being somewhere far-flung but with familiar pleasures. It made it very comforting to read 🙂

  14. thanks for the prompt, Bjorn. This, too, calls to me of ‘home’, which is perhaps that place just beyond the last tree ~

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