Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Barbara Köhler

AUTOPILOT

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN
WELCOME ON BOARD THIS IS MY VOICE MY SELF
I AM THE VOICEBOX I AM THE PILOT THE AUTO
PILOT I AM THE MACHINE. WELCOME WELL COME
 

Troy lies behind us: a mountain of rubble
a heap of broken images a burial field in
an older language stratum Babylonian frag
ments a ruined sentence construction the
stacked up meanings behind us lies Babel
a further destruction layer you see Troy’s
FALLING TOWERS the real-time approach the
moment of impact your self on an infinite
loop KEEP YOUR SEATBELT FASTENED look and
listen stick to the data switch off all
electronic devices let yourself go let your
self go & keep a tight hold follow the
instructions keep quiet hold still we’re
approaching an event horizon the eighth
circle of hell we are entering in we are
in an emergency: DO WE THINK, DESCARTES?
& what? outlying regions pasts temps per
du what’s left behind dead material speaks
like: the arc of the earth the sea towards
the sky dislimning rivers glistening iced
over snowed under petrified rock streams a
cloudless nothingness time in flight etern
ity in the voice of Echo voices from loud
speakers in earphones fragments of speech
remnants of woven fabric dateless fabric
ated text that tells us what we say what
THEY say what SIE say what SHE says Fran
 
cesca da Rimini: per l’aer perso l’aer ma
ligno the black empurpled air that carries
us through which we are flying wind in the
wind that we are we two far in the second
circle of hell too far that day we read PER
ME SI VA NELLA CITTA DOLENTE read no further
there were no grounds just images: fire &
air the world as presentation & a will or
two. A confusion of voices languages a pair
of dark pixels far from any cry and falling
hand in hand it could be seen. do you recall
that still? Nein. THE PERSON YOU’VE CALLED
IS NOT AVAILABLE: PLEASE HOLD THE LINE in
the crackly scratchy hiss of old recordings
silvery das graun in einer handvoll staub
the brown and grey tones photographs almost
bleached gone for ever almost speechless
almost lost just these remnants of voices
of the long-gone animated on the answer
ing machine the light falls silent YOUR
CAPTAIN IS SPEAKING: THANK YOU FOR FLYING
LIMBO AIR no answer possible among the dead
letters on the page a DU mot à mot a motion
an emotion relics of minds miens meanings
still living whispering silence & things
speaking saying barely comprehensibly I
 

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN TH
ROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST
.........AND NOW WE ARE READY FOR TAKE-OFF

AUTOPILOOT

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN
WELCOME ON BOARD THIS IS MY VOICE MY SELF
I AM THE VOICEBOX I AM THE PILOT THE AUTO
PILOT I AM THE MACHINE. WELCOME WELL COME
 

Troja ligt achter ons: zo’n puinberg hoop
beelden een dodenakker in een oudere taal
laag Babylonisch citaat een gevallen zins
bouw zinnengestapel van Babel ligt achter
ons weer een verwoestingshorizon je ziet:
Troja’s FALLING TOWERS in reële tijd doel
witvlucht de inslag zich in een eindeloze
vliegbocht & KEEP YOUR SEATBELTS FASTENED
zien & horen houdt u zich aan de gegevens
schakelt u de elektronische apparaten uit
& verlaat u zich verlaat u: zich en houdt
u zich vast aan de rand aan aanwijzingen:
houdt u stil we naderen een gebeurtenisho
rizon de achtste cirkel van de hel treden
binnen we zijn in noodtoestand: DENKEN WE
DESCARTES? en wat? afgelegen streken ver-
ledens & verlatenheden dood materiaal dat
spreekt als: zich de aarde welft & de zee
om voor de hemel te vervloeien & rivieren
glanzen verijsd versneeuwd versteend rots
stromen een wolkenloos niets in de vlucht
tijd eeuwigheid in de stem Echo’s stemmen
via luidsprekers in koptelefoons woordwir
war weefsel resten ongedateerde texturen-
tekst wat zegt ons wat we zeggen wat zegt
 
Francesca da Rimini per l’aer perso l’aer
maligno o de donkere lucht die ons draagt
waardoor we vliegen en we zijn wind in de
wind in de wijde hellekring getweeën & te
ver die dag lazen wij: PER ME SI VA NELLA
CITTA DOLENTE lazen niet voort geen grond
wel beelden: vuur & lucht wereld als voor
stelling en een wil of twee. In de war de
stemmen spraken een paar pixels veraf van
elke schreeuw & vielen hand in hand t was
te zien. weet je nog? nee. THE PERSON YOU
HAVE CALLED IS NOT AVAILABLE: PLEASE HOLD
THE LINE in het kraken krassen ruisen van
oude opnames zilver het afgrijzen in stof
n handvol de tinten bruin & grauw beelden
verbleekt voor bij voor altijd sprakeloos
haast verloren enkel maar deze resten van
stemmen van de bleek geworden stem levend
op t antwoordapparaat t licht verstomd zo
YOUR CAPTAIN IS SPEAKING: & THANK YOU FOR
FLYING LIMBO AIR onweersproken onder dode
letters een du mot à mot a motion emoties
resten van gestes gister geesten van dood
loos gefluister stilte & de dingen zeggen
onverstaanbaar haast spreken de dingen ik
 
 
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN TH
ROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST
........AND NOW WE ARE READY FOR TAKE-OFF
 

AUTOPILOT

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN
WELCOME ON BOARD THIS IS MY VOICE MY SELF
I AM THE VOICEBOX I AM THE PILOT THE AUTO
PILOT I AM THE MACHINE. WELCOME WELL COME
 
 
Troja liegt hinter uns: ein trümmerhaufen
bilderberg ein totenacker in einer ältren
sprachschicht babylonisches zitat ein ein
gestürzter satzbau sinngestapel von Babel
liegt hinter uns ein weiterer zerstörungs
horizont sie sehen: Trojas FALLING TOWERS
den echtzeitzielanflug den einschlag sich
in der endlosschleife KEEP YOUR SEATBELTS
FASTENED sehen & hören halten sie sich an
die daten schalten sie die elektronischen
geräte aus & verlassen sie sich verlassen
sie: sich & halten sie sich fest den rand
sich an die anweisungen: halten sie still
wir nähern uns einem ereignishorizont dem
achten kreis der hölle wir treten ein wir
sind im ernstfall: DENKEN WIR, DESCARTES?
und was? entlegene gegenden vergangenheit
en & verlassenschaften totes material das
spricht wie: sich die erde wölbt das meer
dem himmel zu verschwimmen flüsse glänzen
vereist verschneit versteinert felsströme
ein wolkenloses nichts im fluge zeit ewig
keit in der stimme Echos stimmen aus laut
sprechern in kopfhörern wortfetzen gewebe
reste undatierter texturtext was sagt uns
was wir sagen was sagen was sagt sie Fran
 
cesca da Rimini: per l’aer perso l’aer ma
ligno die dunkle luft die uns trägt durch
die wir fliegen die wir sind wind im wind
im weiten zweiten höllenkreis zu zweit zu
weit an jenem tage lasen wir PER ME SI VA
NELLA CITTA DOLENTE lasen nicht weiter es
gab keinen grund nur bilder: feuer & luft
die welt als vorstellung und einen willen
oder zwei. Verwirrte stimmen sprachen ein
paar dunkle pixel weit von jedem schrei &
fielen hand in hand es war zu sehn. weißt
du noch? nein. THE PERSON YOU HAVE CALLED
IS NOT AVAILABLE: PLEASE HOLD THE LINE im
knistern kratzen rauschen alter aufnahmen
silbrig das graun in einer handvoll staub
den braun- und grautönen lichtbilder fast
verblasst vorbei für immer fast sprachlos
fast verloren nur diese reste von stimmen
der verblichenen stimme lebhaft auf einem
anrufbeantworter das licht verstummt YOUR
CAPTAIN IS SPEAKING: THANK YOU FOR FLYING
LIMBO AIR unerwidertes zwischen den toten
buchstaben ein du mot à mot a motion eine
emotion reste von gesten gestern geistern
des untotes flüstern stille & es sprechen
die dinge sie sagen kaum verständlich ich
 
 
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN TH
ROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST
........AND NOW WE ARE READY FOR TAKE-OFF
 
Close

AUTOPILOT

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN
WELCOME ON BOARD THIS IS MY VOICE MY SELF
I AM THE VOICEBOX I AM THE PILOT THE AUTO
PILOT I AM THE MACHINE. WELCOME WELL COME
 

Troy lies behind us: a mountain of rubble
a heap of broken images a burial field in
an older language stratum Babylonian frag
ments a ruined sentence construction the
stacked up meanings behind us lies Babel
a further destruction layer you see Troy’s
FALLING TOWERS the real-time approach the
moment of impact your self on an infinite
loop KEEP YOUR SEATBELT FASTENED look and
listen stick to the data switch off all
electronic devices let yourself go let your
self go & keep a tight hold follow the
instructions keep quiet hold still we’re
approaching an event horizon the eighth
circle of hell we are entering in we are
in an emergency: DO WE THINK, DESCARTES?
& what? outlying regions pasts temps per
du what’s left behind dead material speaks
like: the arc of the earth the sea towards
the sky dislimning rivers glistening iced
over snowed under petrified rock streams a
cloudless nothingness time in flight etern
ity in the voice of Echo voices from loud
speakers in earphones fragments of speech
remnants of woven fabric dateless fabric
ated text that tells us what we say what
THEY say what SIE say what SHE says Fran
 
cesca da Rimini: per l’aer perso l’aer ma
ligno the black empurpled air that carries
us through which we are flying wind in the
wind that we are we two far in the second
circle of hell too far that day we read PER
ME SI VA NELLA CITTA DOLENTE read no further
there were no grounds just images: fire &
air the world as presentation & a will or
two. A confusion of voices languages a pair
of dark pixels far from any cry and falling
hand in hand it could be seen. do you recall
that still? Nein. THE PERSON YOU’VE CALLED
IS NOT AVAILABLE: PLEASE HOLD THE LINE in
the crackly scratchy hiss of old recordings
silvery das graun in einer handvoll staub
the brown and grey tones photographs almost
bleached gone for ever almost speechless
almost lost just these remnants of voices
of the long-gone animated on the answer
ing machine the light falls silent YOUR
CAPTAIN IS SPEAKING: THANK YOU FOR FLYING
LIMBO AIR no answer possible among the dead
letters on the page a DU mot à mot a motion
an emotion relics of minds miens meanings
still living whispering silence & things
speaking saying barely comprehensibly I
 

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN TH
ROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST
.........AND NOW WE ARE READY FOR TAKE-OFF

AUTOPILOT

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN
WELCOME ON BOARD THIS IS MY VOICE MY SELF
I AM THE VOICEBOX I AM THE PILOT THE AUTO
PILOT I AM THE MACHINE. WELCOME WELL COME
 

Troy lies behind us: a mountain of rubble
a heap of broken images a burial field in
an older language stratum Babylonian frag
ments a ruined sentence construction the
stacked up meanings behind us lies Babel
a further destruction layer you see Troy’s
FALLING TOWERS the real-time approach the
moment of impact your self on an infinite
loop KEEP YOUR SEATBELT FASTENED look and
listen stick to the data switch off all
electronic devices let yourself go let your
self go & keep a tight hold follow the
instructions keep quiet hold still we’re
approaching an event horizon the eighth
circle of hell we are entering in we are
in an emergency: DO WE THINK, DESCARTES?
& what? outlying regions pasts temps per
du what’s left behind dead material speaks
like: the arc of the earth the sea towards
the sky dislimning rivers glistening iced
over snowed under petrified rock streams a
cloudless nothingness time in flight etern
ity in the voice of Echo voices from loud
speakers in earphones fragments of speech
remnants of woven fabric dateless fabric
ated text that tells us what we say what
THEY say what SIE say what SHE says Fran
 
cesca da Rimini: per l’aer perso l’aer ma
ligno the black empurpled air that carries
us through which we are flying wind in the
wind that we are we two far in the second
circle of hell too far that day we read PER
ME SI VA NELLA CITTA DOLENTE read no further
there were no grounds just images: fire &
air the world as presentation & a will or
two. A confusion of voices languages a pair
of dark pixels far from any cry and falling
hand in hand it could be seen. do you recall
that still? Nein. THE PERSON YOU’VE CALLED
IS NOT AVAILABLE: PLEASE HOLD THE LINE in
the crackly scratchy hiss of old recordings
silvery das graun in einer handvoll staub
the brown and grey tones photographs almost
bleached gone for ever almost speechless
almost lost just these remnants of voices
of the long-gone animated on the answer
ing machine the light falls silent YOUR
CAPTAIN IS SPEAKING: THANK YOU FOR FLYING
LIMBO AIR no answer possible among the dead
letters on the page a DU mot à mot a motion
an emotion relics of minds miens meanings
still living whispering silence & things
speaking saying barely comprehensibly I
 

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN TH
ROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST
.........AND NOW WE ARE READY FOR TAKE-OFF
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