An international open stage for raw voices in Copenhagen. Every month. A new theme. No gatekeeping. Just words.
Three years of voices that refused to behave — dragged off the open mic and pressed onto paper. Our first edition: the lines that went off in the room, now bound and loose on the city. Raw, unedited, exactly as they landed. The print run is small. When it's gone, it's gone.
Three years ago we opened with one rule: the stage is open. Now we're throwing the doors wide — new room, first-ever anthology in your hands, a night that's equal parts birthday and book launch. Copenhagen Falling in Love All Over Again hits the world the same night it hits the stage. Open mic, all voices, the usual beautiful chaos. Come loud.
Poetry belongs in bars and basements, not just on bookshelves.
The stage doesn't ask for a CV. It asks for something true.
The stage is open. No gatekeeping. No credentials required.
We are Copenhagen's international poetry community — performing primarily in English, open to the world.
Words that land like a punch in the mouth are the ones worth saying.
Poetry Unleashed Copenhagen started in 2023 because poetry needed a room with no walls — a place where a first-timer stands next to a seasoned writer, and both are equally welcome on stage.
Every month we pick a theme, open the doors at Huset KBH, and let the world speak for itself. We perform primarily in English — bringing together poets and listeners from across the globe, right here in Copenhagen.
This is your community. Come be part of it.
At 1 pm the flowers shine bright over the frozen ice-cream field – as seen from a dusty train window Behind my left shoulder a lady is having an aneurysm over the sheer number of decibels I am producing while speaking on the phone with my beloved brother. (Astonishingly, mid-day.) This is a family zone, I tell her. So instead of sitting here blaming me for your misfortune, why don't you also call someone? Before she could answer her hands flew for my neck, grabbing me like you would an ill-behaved rooster, ripe for the log. Unfortunately, she could not lift me up. My sack of organs, muscle mass, my illustrious hairs, all that poetry; she just couldn't lift it off the ground so I said okay I will be your friend. She didn't like that either. She now goes almost everywhere I go and lurks in the shadows. A part of me wishes she would come to the show. Pernille? Pernille, if you're listening, please answer me... is everything okay between us?
A punch in the mouth is: teeth, tongue, the sentence arriving before the person, a lip learning consequence, breakfast after honesty, your mother saying, well, what did you expect, the dentist asking if you grind at night, and you saying, only my soul. A punch in the mouth is: the word “actually,” said by someone younger than you, a mirror in public lighting, a birthday card with too much handwriting, a white shirt at a red wine event, and the slow discovery that your mysterious phase was just poor communication with better shoes. A punch in the mouth is: “just circling back,” “as discussed,” “kind reminder,” “quick question,” and the tiny violence of someone writing “hope this finds you well” when clearly it has found you in pieces. A punch in the mouth is: a therapist calling it progress, HR calling it alignment, your ex calling it growth, your bank calling it a lifestyle choice, and your body calling it Tuesday. A punch in the mouth is: love, sometimes, but not the pretty kind, not violins, not soft lighting, not two people becoming one, which always sounded like a tax problem anyway, but the kind of love that corrects your grammar and teaches your mouth to stop making promises your body cannot keep. A punch in the mouth is: the poem you over-explained, the metaphor that reported you, the audience coughing exactly where your heart was, the microphone waiting like a small black judge, and the first laugh saving your life by ruining your seriousness. A punch in the mouth is: the thing you finally say, the thing you cannot unsay, the apology already bleeding, the silence afterwards checking the room, the mouth, innocent, the opinions, planted. A punch in the mouth is: all of this, listed here for insurance purposes, minor impacts, daily corrections, romantic concussions, administrative bruises, and the occasional grace of being hit so precisely you finally know where you are.
Photo: @lisaotto.dk
Poet · Host · Artist
Arina hosts Poetry Unleashed CPH with the belief that a room full of honest voices is something worth building — and protecting. She creates a space where people feel free to show up as they are, say what they mean, and listen like it matters.
Poetry Unleashed is her invitation to anyone who has ever felt something too large for ordinary language. The stage is open. The room is real.
