Born in 1960 in Bierlingen, which is not the place where beer was invented. A member of the German P.E.N. Center as well as the German Writer's Association (Verband Deutscher Schriftsteller), Walle Sayer received considerable praise for his work, including the Friedrich-Hölderlin-Preis awarded by the City of Bad Homburg as well as the Swiss Vera-Piller-Poesiepreis. His poetry is marked by a striking degree of simplicity, an eye for details, and the little things that make life livable as well as unbearable. His recent book is titled »Strohhalm, Stützbalken« (Tübingen 2013) and, though the poems vary in theme and tone, they often summon memories of a (very German) childhood, or iconic objects from life in the hinterland, as well as the common man's occasional rather mediocre capacity for carnal lust.
A LITTLE LOST SHOVEL LAY THERE / (Untitled)
As though waiting
beneath the murky clouded sky
the empty beach as though waiting
for some sort of endowment with meaning
for a Dad maybe,
who forgets the passage of hours
that he otherwise remembers,
while building something
like the prognosis
of a castle in the sand,
and then to step back, to wait
along with the kids,
until the water rises
in its show,
a wave jutting forth,
taking everything down and away with it,
the wasted afternoon,
the hours gained
GUM MACHINE / (Untitled)
That you're standing right here now
in front of this mangled contraption.
A dime that you nagged somebody for
for a couple of balls of chewing gum.
And the absolute only engagement ring ever,
with a frame made of the thinnest tin.
For the length of one bat of the eye
something lasted forever.
That you're standing here right now
before your confessed state.
Privat anectodic retrieval / (Untitled)
Travel Blessing / (Untitled)