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Jan Sand

Jan Sand

I was born in Manhattan, New York, grew up to the age of 12 in Brooklyn, and resided until the age of 36 in Manhattan. I took a degree in industrial design at Pratt Institute and worked in New York until I was designated field man for a New York firm for an exhibition by the US Commerce Dept in Helsinki, where I met my wife. Since then, I worked in Berlin, Paris, Tel Aviv and in the USA.
 Adventure Adventure by Jan Sand
Adventure Mountains there areTo tooth the horizon,And lakes to trap the skyIn between the forests.
 Apprehension Apprehension by Jan Sand
Apprehension I do not argue with the windAnd rain may wet me if it must.Random events leave me chagrined.There’s not much more to be discuss
 EvaluationEvaluation by Jan Sand
EvaluationFrom sperm and egg, two points of view,We joined in enterprise,Proliferating from those twoTo macroscopic size.
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 Physiological LinguisticsPhysiological Linguistics by Jan Sand
Physiological LinguisticsMy body speaks to me in pain,Locates in a finger, or a toe,It screams in silenceTo let me knowAnd
 "Whether Report""Whether Report" by Jan Sand
There were violent stormsIn the bedroom.A cold affrontResulted in precipitation.Some thunder And a quick retreat to the bathroom Where pressures built up dangerously.
 "Constructions of Congruence""Constructions of Congruence" by Jan Sand
The world roots deep insideWhere the eye and earManufactures bricksSupplying basic industriesOf secret architectsWith agendas proprietary.I wander through their streetsAlien
 "Birthday optimism""Birthday optimism" by Jan Sand
Another year has skulked awayWith treasures, troubles, odd confusions,A few new happenings that mayBecome, with the right transfusions,A novel worthwhile form of play.Our lives are short
 "Desperate Song""Desperate Song" by Jan Sand
Who will act for mankind? Not me, not me.For time's not kind,And I'm not free.I've sat so long to watch the willOf anger and destruction Smash good sense int
 "Dark Passage""Dark Passage" by Jan Sand
Night eyes fixed into my skullStare in fascination as black cloudsRoil the darkness overfilledWith evanescent images in toilTo work the caves of memory,Extract rich nostalgic oresA
 "Ephemera""Ephemera" by Jan Sand
Things wear. Cloth fraysHolding out small strandsLike begging hands.Shoe leather abrades to sliversUntil a holeDemands a new sole.Time's assault deliversAll solidity
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