Born 1967, Germany. Studied Art History and Literature and lives in Kiel, where he works as an author and artist. In his works, which are full of humour, he experiments with rhythms and styles, intonations and levels of language in poetic play with the forms of perception.
Rautenberg published his first collection of poetry, "neondämmerlicht" (neon twilight) in 1996. His literary oeuvre covers not only poetry but also experimental texts and his novel "Der Sperrmüllkönig" (The Trash King, 2002). Since 2006 he has also been teaching at the Muthesius Academy of Fine Arts in Kiel and he is a freelance critic and feature writer. Rautenberg's many awards include the Poetry Prize of the Graz Academy (2001) and the Random House Prize for Satirical Literature (2002). In 2013 he got the "Liliencron-lectureship", which is reserved strictly for poetry.
His latest collections of poetry are: "gebrochene naturen" (broken nature, 2009), two collections of poetry for children "der wind lässt tausend hütchen fliegen" (the wind makes fly a thousand hats, 2010) and “montag ist mützenfalschrumtag (monday is hat-back-to-front-day, 2014) - - and also two half dark half playful collections with the titles “mundfauler staub” (lazymouth dust, 2012) and “seltene erden” (rare earths, 2014).
the bird-clock. sunrise 04.30. mid-may. /
03.00 (redstart): the story of your fathertranslated by Ken Cockburn
is buried deep in the earth.
03.10 (robin): this earth will be shovelled out of you.
03.15 (blackbird): everyone you have ever loved has gone
to the place where they no longer are.
03.20 (wren): and the flashlights that dazzle
your eyes momentarily are all grinning.
03.30 (cuckoo): and the dear little stars are
humming wecannotwecannotwecannotgiveyouit –
03.40 (great tit): behind the storm is a storm.
03.50 (chiffchaff): behind the star is a star.
04.00 (chaffinch): I walk through my city and it’s
not my city I’m walking through.
04.20 (house sparrow): I think of myself and it’s
not me that’s thinking of myself.
04.40 (starling): the winter which makes my bed for the sleep
in which I bed down to sleep.
a certain degree of brightness signals to birds when to awaken. this
degree of brightness can be so precisely determined that
in the early part of the year one can set one’s alarm by a songbird’s call.
between ourselves /
there my father was more than one
there my father was more than a thousand
there my father was all men
and mother was too
and she too was more than one more than a thousand
and she too was all mothers
and there my father encountered himself
in the factory on the machines
powered himself up and roared around and father
encountered himself in all the cars which
came towards him at the end of the shift and spoke his language
when he swtiched on the car radio
and mother too bought meat from herself in the morning
took the money from her hand and said hello
to herself in the stair and heard her own voice
her own worries on the phone from someone
who spoke like her who had her voice and her worries
and when father arrived he arrived everywhere
and when mother opened the door mother opened the door everywhere
and all my mothers welcomed all my fathers
and in each house nothing was amiss
all my fathers embraced all my mothers
and all my mothers lifted all their motherly skirts
and all my fathers undid all their fatherly flies
and there I was and knew only myself
myself as a growing child among
other growing children who I was too
myself as a playmate who played with someone who was me
myself as a football team who faced only other
football teams which consisted of myself
and so there was nothing else for it but to console myself with myself
and my only consolation was the fact that all the others who I was too
had as did I to console themselves with myselftranslated by Ken Cockburn
the eyes of emily dickinson / the eyes of emily dickinson /
black planets flaming coals
open to light ashes in sighttranslated by Ken Cockburn
I declare the plastic debris of the oceans /
I declare the plastic debris of the oceans
to be art
and so I thank the tides
I thank the movement of the waves
I thank the uv light
for the degradation
of my art
I thank the many residents of the oceans
I thank the plankton
for embodying my art
for the fact that having made its way into the food chain
everyone can take part in it
I thank the washing machines
for flushing fibres of fleece
and other synthetic fabrics
into the outflow pipe and thus into my art
I thank the currents
the great ocean gyres
especially the north pacific central gyre
for the swirling density of my art
for the fact that it is available in quantities
of many millions per square kilometre that in total
a hundred million tons of my art
is in circulation throughout the oceans I am grateful
for the fact that I am an artist who
is able to reach every continenttranslated by Ken Cockburn
unaffordable poem /
translated by Ken Cockburn
this poem was
worked on for
100 years it cost
twelve million dollar