Say it with a ringed nose

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Post photo: Book | © Pixabay

Joachim Ringelnatz will probably still be known to many today, although he was mainly active during the Weimar Republic, and his work and his life quickly came to an abrupt end when the National Socialists seized power.

After today from Thomas Michl was asked on Twitter if I wasn't participating in a "literary snowball“, and was asked to show a book cover but not to comment, and to make matters worse, to name seven other victims (nominees), I ignored it for the time being. But then I noticed the little book “Sämtliche Poems” by Ringelnatz, which happened to be next to my computer and which I have been leafing through for a few days.

And when I took another look in there, I came across the following poem:

Foreword
I can call my book whatever I want
And write spelling as you like!
If you don't like reading me, let it be.
I'm allowed the sow, the meatball, the crocodile
And seal every other object
I can go home undisturbed
Fulfill my need as it suits me.
What can me to spirit and pure rhyme,
What to commit to taste and humor? —
modesty? — captatio — oh ho!
And whoever hates me——let them hate me!
I can really touch my butt
As well as the avant-propos.

Joachim Ringelnatz

With that, “my” book cover was found, and Thomas probably didn’t really expect me to post it without comment; but I'll spare myself the victim show.

This booklet, which I recommend everyone to read, also fits not only with the above "literary snowball", but also very well with the present day, where the Duden political the National Socialists once again dream of seizing power, and everyone is automatically hated as soon as they don't want to conform to the mainstream - so the ground for everything totalitarian seems well prepared again.

Joachim Ringelnatz was not only an excellent writer, but even more, a sought-after cabaret artist and also an excellent painter who liked to illustrate his texts himself.

And Ringelnatz even has something to say about my gas bill, which I just received — and hits the mark once again.

I put his poem Boomerang at the end of this article.

Was once a boomerang;
Was a little too long.
boomerang flew a piece,
But didn't come back.
audience — for hours —
Waiting for boomerang.

Joachim Ringelnatz

"Football madness is a disease, but rare, thank God."

Joachim Ringelnatz, football (in addition to variety and degeneration) (1997: 98ff)

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