Lars Bregonje
Although the number of entries was limited, the jury was united and clear about its decision: Lars Bregonje was to be Campus Poet 2012. The jury praised his creative use of language, clear rhythm, and references to current events. At the Poetry Party, held on January 26, 2012, in the attractive ambiance of the Sports Café on the Tilburg University campus, the new Campus Poet was presented to the university community. The duo ‘Koek & Trommel’ had put his poem ‘Tilburgania I’ to music. Various poets held presentations, including Tilburg City Poet, Esther Porcelijn. Of course, the new Campus Poet read his winning poems.
On Bregonje
Lars Bregonje is a Liberal Arts and Sciences student at Tilburg University. One year after he had started on a ‘Creative Writing’ Bachelor’s program in London, he was forced to discontinue his studies because tuition fees were suddenly doubled. What his studies did bring him was the awareness that writing is a craft that needs to be exercised with the necessary discipline. After his London adventure, he went to Tilburg, where the 20-year-old was voted Campus Poet 2012 a few months later.
Performances
Apart from poetry, Bregonje also writes stories and is not planning to stop writing stories now that he is officially a poet. He has already performed in public a few times. The first symposium where he did a presentation was entitled ‘Ruim baan voor talent!’, organized by study association Magister JFT | Juribes. ‘Clear the way for talent’: there is hardly a more suitable name for an event where Lars Bregonje’s work was first presented.
Poems by Lars (Dutch)
International Classroom
a Shakespearean valentine’s poem O, never say that I am false of heart Even if this day seems easily disqualified As a day where love and commerce should depart. As a day that should bear no likeness to the lazy night. For what different am I than the Italian gazing At his stealthily love: “O, ti amo! Ora e per sempre!” Or the Swede shouting “Jag älskar dig!” - raging From inside and silent outwardly. Than to remember What today is, now, tomorrow, here and worldwide. O, never say that I am false of heart, for I am no different Than those that have danced, kissed, loved and tried. Today overthrows all belief, language and pigment. Today is both tongue and mind, Wittgenstein and Descartes. O, never say that I am false of heart.
Tilburgania I
The small city over there is a short cloudburst, a miniature galaxy turned on its side. There are notes inside cash registers, dildos in lonely night closets. A student revising Latin, the original HTML. I know of the après-class drunkenness – that trembling fear of growing up imperfectly. The buzz of different tongues, the music, the swapping of muscle & saliva in student cafés and on the street. International Law, International Business Administration, International Blowjobs. I know of Cognitive Neuroscience (New York, 1998) and that to grow up is to grow up wisely. (I also know that somewhere nearby there‟s a young couple with sleepy eyes of lovemaking – their legs warmly entangled – and to them that moment is more important than all these other things)
Waarover we praten als we over Diederik praten
Daar zit je, flirtend met de camera, je gezicht geschminkt, het trillende been van Martin Bril werkend op je zenuwen. Je gonst je stem door de zaal als een lekkende megafoon – je eigen wereld scheppend, groter, groter, groter. En daar zit je. Je leest de woorden van je vrouw in De Telegraaf - woorden afkomstig van een stem waar je ooit voor bent gevallen zoals een jongen voor een meisje. ‘Hij woont niet meer thuis.’ Diede, je bestaat toch wel? Jij hebt toch ook een ademtocht? Jij hebt toch ook kinderen, bent toch ook een kind? Jij krijgt toch ook stoppels rond vijf uur ’s middags?