Internationale Poetry-Biennale  -  Filmfestival  -  Salon  -  Netzwerk

Freitag, 4. November, 16.30 Uhr


Maartje Smits

Maartje Smity verwebt in ihrer poetischen Arbeit Bild und Sprache. Über Videos, Performances, Fotografie und Text erforscht sie Themen, die ihr am Herzen liegen und oft mit Feminismus und Ökologie verbunden sind. Ausgehend von dieser Praxis unterrichtet sie Transmediales Geschichtenerzählen und Design an der Gerrit Rietveld Academy und bei Artez (Arnhem).

Zu ihren neuesten Gedichtbänden gehören If you are a girl, 2015, und How I started a forest in my bathroom, 2017, De Harmonie Verlag. Maartje lebt und arbeitet in Amsterdam und ist in ihrer Freizeit Imkerin.

Maartje is a poet in image and language. Via video, performances, photography and text she explores subjects that are dear to her, often linked to feminism and ecology. From this practice she teaches transmedia storytelling and design at the Gerrit Rietveld Academy and at Artez (Arnhem).

Latest poetry books include If you are a girl, 2015, and How I started a forest in my bathroom, 2017, De Harmonie publishers. Maartje lives and works in Amsterdam, and in her spare time she is a beekeeper.

Foto Monica Curtin

Meer legs

I would möchte be
a frauship's shallow schouwdek
a bitsy bitchy lust objection

with dikke thighs
dikes off all men deck
deilig thighs bulk carriers that
tar all, tenderly tegen affection

ik want thighs that faul
behouwen and dare to be seen
zie you siegst
minne Seekontainer legs
siegst minne peal d’orange
cellulite royal ’t squirts
lukewarm tea dregs in my lazy rolling dans lui
weil go on and choose to you weinst
past my solid soaked legs

How I started   a forest in my bathroom

seduced by portable supermarket ferns
gardenless creatures like me hardly ever thirsty but
and potted plants suck up stress

the fern was no fern
a woman gazed clean and free from packaging
she breathed   Air Purifying Plant Mix®
tested by NASA and TNO

at home I heard

trees talk underground
about weather
the climate is changing they exchange  
fungi with super powers
transfer calming minerals
to a household account

a single tree barely exists
a single fern does not deserve the name
I bought another
and a third
I bought the entire last tray
of mix

until a staff member   cautioned me
in Suriname you have to fight nature
or she takes over  
first your garden then your house your
bed your shower curtain

but these days, forests grow indoors
rows of inert toadstools    lining the road
is the word overgrown even still used here  

how could I ever have dared
to distinguish myself from plants
where did the mix begin and I

watched my barelyferns grow lonely
on the windowsill
side by side in plastic earthenware
which   repels everything
roots penetrating compulsive thoughts

my plant mix cried in the shower
where I depotted and buried their flaccid underbellies
in the cut-out soil

then I carried the remaining
indoor greenery upstairs  

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