RAVENS OF VICTORY

Ravens of Victory
Who invited them
To knock on your window frame
With their claws of prey?

Who invited them
With their croaking songs of prayers
Into your ears?

Somewhere there
God prepaired
A silent home for them
With walls of wood and stone
And violet hope

You can share its wormth
And bestow each other
With your pearly solitude
If they only let you in...

You were told
About golden caves of prayers
And those Ravens belonging
To the Dusk
Them transformed into Knights of Glory
And appeared at your doorstep
As a wind
That dwells your chambers
Of untight nights
You were promised the sign of those Nights

Someone tries
Someone cries
Someone dies...

You bow to nightmare-visions
Birds not necessarily as black as you wished for
Without wings
Too gentle
Too smooth
Too naive
Alike yourself
With their claws broken...

Someone is born
Someone flies...

You never usher Ravens
Into a daylight
They're definitely too shy to shine
And too black to knock at your window frame
At noon

They cherish the gloom
That you wear as a mask
And they bask in the colors of endless night as it lasts

Someone asks you for a dance
At the dusk...

ROYAL

High heels
Red polished nails
And hair
Freely lushing up the face
Describe
Me as a Woman
Human of a Royal Race [Royal Sex]

My pain-resistant pride
And drinkable blood
Ready to be tried
Dripping over the prayes
That sully my mouth
Each night

The Power of Skies
Within the veins
Remains blue
And lasts

My breasts
Shame-stained
Royal
And vain
Golden Goodnights...

AS IF A LEAF

Born in the Autumn
As if a leaf...
I fell on the Earth on purpose
Just to touch the ground
To cherish the moment
Of lying on the other surface
On the sand

As if I was...
Unlike to happen

Crumpled Body
Grasping the air with toes
Unlike people
Or other selfish creatures
Carrying no obedience
To any laws
As if I was...

A leaf
Fallen before Nobodies Eyes
Hands
Claws
As if I was...

Bearing no past
Convicted
Not to last
Being Nobodies daughter

Lying
At the edge of my existence
Without a future
As if I was...

The story
Partially told
Partially forgotten...

W PRZEŁYKU

Ty
Wyświetlasz kadry z przeszłości
Projektor ubierasz w pokrowiec
Zapluty miłości sokami
Jak obiektywy przecierane
Słowami
Dłońmi
Jak Ktoś
Kto odjechał cwałem
Z pamięcią ciał pod paznokciami
Z końmi...

Leżysz
Zamknięty w czyjejś pościeli
W bieli nie jest Ci do twarzy
Marzysz o purpurze
Krwawych snów
Pejzaży płótnach w kolorze fioletu
I odstajesz od świata
Na odległość sztyletu
Jak tamta postać z innego wymiaru
Ubrana w światła i cienie
Co natchnieniem Ci bywa
I pływa
Po tęczówkach ludzi
I nigdy nie nudzi się słowami

Ona żyje tylko w ustach
Rodzi się na języku
Uciekając nieświadoma
Z dotyku chce konać
Nie znajdziesz jej pod poduszką
Ani w szafie pomiędzy szatami

Pijąc wino
Jak szkarłat
Zgnieciesz ją ustami
Poczujesz
Jak drżąca
Umiera w przełyku...

OF OUR ANCESTORS

Beard and mustache
That's what we remember about our ancestors
They all grown beard and mustache
They drank wine and rum
They drank vodka
They wore disgusting clothes they never washed
They obeyed the King
Not to be executed for treason
They loved the Queen
And the Heirs of Her...

They did it to their wives
They enjoyed their dinners
Grapes if they were rich
And wine
Scarlet like blood
And sweet...
Then they did it to their wives again

They had descendants
Who had descendants
As we will have some day...
They learned how to kill animals
To fight the hunger
They used to possess swords
Sharp and shiny
That slid millions of necks
And throats...

They were told of jeopardy
They were told they’re in danger
They took weapons
And they went to battle
They fought for our freedom...!

THE ISLAND

Island
You bloom
As a fantasy
On some Brunette's contact lens
She combs her hair
And moans the song

Quiet and quieter
There is no colours reflected in the air
A shadow fallows her as she tries to escape
She's jailed
In the gloomy moon
Room without walls
Windows or doors
But closed...

She eats no bread
She walks no floors
She just adores your freckled soul
And keeps on nodding in case you asked her for a dance...

Polished nails
Eye lashes heavy of mascara
So black you couldn't eat them anymore
And pale vanilla face...

She belongs to the race called Sand
That dwells Forgotten Land
Where they gather around the fire
And dance
Till World ends
They recognize no time
They recognize no death

They write words of worship along the beach
And blow it into the sea
To please their Gods

The Island
Where they sit naked opposite to each other
And tattoo their skins all over
Then read one another out loud
In infinity
Like a prayer
As if they were chapel's walls covered with murals
Mesmerized they close their eyes
To trace the past
To last...

O NAS

Mozemy wszystko
Jestesmy panami
Wlasnych losow
Glosow
I cial
Mowimy sami za
A czasami do
Siebie
A tamci biali
Slysza nas w gorze
I upadaja w nas zakochani
I o pomniki ryte w marmurze
O naszych twarzach
Sie rozbijaja
W niebie gadaja o nas nocami
W niebie jestesmy dla nich Gwiazdami!

THE BIRTHDAY POEM

Roaming this World
We paddle in a blood
Of birds that fell from the sky on us
Yesterday night
They are angels of our times
Cause God thinks twice
Before giving any wings away anymore

I think we do deserve to live amongst them
White
And pure like art itself
We create the universe
From the scratch
We match ourselves with somebody
In order to hold some hand
And we demand
And we demand
No more…

We kiss when the dusk falls
And we never close our eyes
There are no lies in our breaths anymore
We breathe art like the air
From holy cities
And towns of shame
We collect emotions that twist our wrists
With blame
To connect
To conduct
To exist…

JEDEN O PORANKU

I BEZ KAWY

A co
Jeśli Bóg
Nie wtrąca się już w miłość
I od flirtów boli go głowa
Nikomu nie wierzy już na słowa...
I nie przemienia żadnych w ciało
Bo ma dosyć już ciał

A przecież
My oddychamy słowami
Bo bez nich
Jakoś nas mało
Nam tylko pisanie pozostało
I chwała...

Pożądania mamy dość
Bo nie chcemy żeby ktoś
Nam sapał do ucha
Że nas
Zje żywcem
I bez popijania
Że obliże tylko usta
I wiecej chce
I tak nas je i je

Bo czemu by nie
Wieczór w wieczór
Do dziesiatej zero dwie...

Nad ranem tworzenia już nie ma
A zamiast natchnienia
Przychodzi rachunek
Za pożyczanie słów

Jutro
Na oczach nam się zmienia
W wymogi nie do spełnienia
I w dowidzenia
Kolejkcjonowane na kartkach
Z cytatami z mądrych głów

A potem się zaczyna
Kończy się bukiet wina
I kończy się na śnie

I imitowanie

Nocami własnych żon
Pokrywanie
I zgon miłości
Pomiędzy kocami
I dnie jakby nigdy nas nie

Modlitwa jako błaganie
O wstrzymanie kary
I składanie rąk

I już
Nie pamietam na której ścianie
Kreska oznacza klękanie
A na której dotyk

Z kalendarzy potwarzy wyrywane
Kartki
Wyścielają łoża
Zamiast róż
I nie ma miejsca na nic
Spanie
Wstawanie
Trwanie
I już...?

G SONG

OF HIS PLACES YOU DWELL SOMETIMES

I've fallen
Into a sleep
As if my eyelids were to heavy
To deal with reality
They look for something more profound
Searching deep in the Land of Forgotten Things
Lost shapes
And faith that keeps on linger under the nails

And I would swear
That I taste grapes
And I would swear
That I could smell the air that dwells his lungs
Again

I swear that I've been there before
Squashed
Lost
And found somehow
Somewhere

I cried the tears that soaked his eyes
And drunk saliva straight from his mouth
And I would swear
That you've been there
As well...

He'd never left women aside
He let them bask in the purple light
That shone their eyes through
Before they died

They often call him by the name
He lets them speak of what they feel
They cry
And die
And kneel
And kneel

They call him God
He doesn't care
If only you were there
And see...

He'd chosen me
Then sent away
I wore the gown green like the stream
Of thoughts he spells

Projected on the inside
Of his artful scull
Wounded and scarred
He died few times...

And yet he smells music and tales
And yet he senses
Tensed strings of air

And I would swear
I was there once
Poured purple rain
Into my palms
And I would swear
Angels were there
Cheating on God
Paying the worship to us
As we danced to the windows of their eyes

I died few times into his arms
Night after night would come
And moths would fly
And I would die
Dusk after dusk
At last I sunk

He'd chosen me
Then sent away
I came undone
Green gown
Dropped down
Sea of blue blood
He swam
He drank
I died like time...

I called him God
He didn't care
If only you were there
And see...

DANSE MACABRE

THE EVERLASTING END

There is a stage
And there is music
There are artists
That you detest
They die and cry
And fuck
On request

But
My baby wants only to dance...

They found us
Sitting over the stairs
Ate us alive
They stuck golden knives in our soft brains
So we could easily forget
Our lusts
Lovers that passed
And all the rest
Then they forced us to digest
All the Rests

But
My baby needs to dance
First...

There was a blood
And there are kids crying
There were guns
Screams
And protests
They used us up
Thrown over the fence

We're flying
Aeroplanes
Above this Everlasting End
That still smells
Like the Earth
We do must survive
Get down to defence

Yet
My baby dies
To dance...

QUESTIONS FOR THE DAY...

Silence
Crawls at us
As we open violet eyes
Bleeding
On the inside
We're red
Like dragons from a fairy tale
Except that our breath doesn't burn
And it's not a fairy tale at all

We are guilty
Like diamonds and gold
For what happens with this World
We-ourselves
We-alone

Then we wake up
And as our faces gain a trace of make-up
We grow pretty
We grow old
We grow in this pleasant war
That we play
To deal with those who hate
Including ourselves
To get
Laid...

Who decided to call us warriors
Who put those weapons into our hands
Heads
Who made our beds
Red like roses
That in fact drip with blood
Saliva
And sweat
Who cuts our bread into slices
And forgets to pray
Before

Why did we exchange future for past
Why do we last in yesterdays
Forever
Like tomorrow never comes
To us?
Oh us!

KIDS IN THE MUD

I wear the necklace of blue stones
Bought at some market
On Sunday Morning
Surrounded by the scent of Glory
And coffee
Always coffee
Black and blacker
Like a freckle on your tongue
I read tale about humen becoming aware of themselves
It's like song to worship the existence
And whole this World
Embraced by evolving shades of Green
Scattered around
We're free
To decide
To slide through lies
Lines
And start believing
Slide into full living
With eyes open wide
And somebody's image
On the iris
Reflected as if light
Took us by surprise
Wounded
And happy
Like kids in the mud
Or rain
We shall remember
We shall refuse to drain...

POWRÓT KRÓLA JASZCZURA

Gdzie jesteś?
Niemo oddycham
Twoim powietrzem
Powietrzem Twoich dzieł
A myśli moich ostatnie bezdechy
Nie mają już kształtu
Jakby transparentne
Lekkie
I lżejsze
I coraz cieńsze

Ciemny pocałunek wypełnia mi płuca
I uszy
Zostawiłeś ślady stóp jaszczurzych
I dłoni
W mojej duszy
I na skroni od zaklęć
Wyrosłeś zmarszczkami

Ty
Szaman Plemienia Poetów
Tatuaż zamiast skóry
Wąż zamiast imienia
Ty tańczacy bóg
Apokaliptycznego spełnienia

Wymyśliłeś świat
I umarłeś wtedy
Z odciskiem butów własnego Stworzenia
Na czole

Objety chłodnymi ramionami wanny
Wymieniłeś spojrzenie
Z jaszczurem przy bramie
W której muzyka się kończy niestety
I z krukami zasiadłeś przy winie
Które sączy się wciąż
I wciąż
Już nie miniesz...

Z Gigantami spożywszy
Krwawiacy posiłek
Rozpostarłeś
Skrzydła
Pokryte bliznami...

W rocznicę śmierci Króla Jaszczura

THE PARROT WOMAN

Her image would blow your mind
Permanently bend
Letting her man to rest at her back
She twists her neck
To send him the kiss of smile

Perched on the branch
She tries to howl
Then risen arms transform her into an owl
Her image would blow you out

And all those colors she wears in her feather- hair
She flies above the bridge
To concur with the wind
Dancing at her home
Over the head
Waving
She's no regret

Strong as a stone
She leaves her cave covered with moss
To roam
Roam
Beyond the time
Her image would blow your irises
Into pieces
As she bows to the Grace

There's a reflection of pastel face in the veins of mine
Like a blood
That runs my vessels through and through
The blue Parrot Woman
Dressed up in fur
And gold
She shed her tears into Angels' ears
As I was told...

On the cold winter frosty mornings
She dared to share her coffee
With God
And baby birds she put to sleep
Into the sleeve of violet night
Embraced they felt as if the parrot' wings
Were lain
Cuddling their brains tight
Her image would blow the apples of your eyes

Today she's back and swings
With the wind
As her feathers and her hair

Amongst the shelves
And clocks she walks
As time is ticking over the place
Overgrown with dust
Like us
She ties herself up with a thread
To a chair
Throne alike
And puts enamel over her nails
Her image blows the dust away

She wears the laces
Cashmere and
Silk...

Me - made of feathers
Me - torn as skies into pieces of golden stars
Me - bathed in her milk...




Dedicated to my Mother

Ps. There are people and things
That you can reach for
But you not always catch them...

THE LAST SUPPER

He looked her in the pale brown eyes
That used to be darker than coal
There
On the inner edge of existence
She kept the promise of gold resistance
While after while
He couldn't smile
Feeling her gaze
Piercing his soul

Wrapped in persistence deserving prize
She nailed him to the ceiling above
Her bed
And off she went to sleep
Deeper than deep
She sunk in night
He might be there
She cried
She thought
She was like us
She wasn't odd

He stared at her
Whilst she did dream
Of him
Filling her glass with Chilean wine
With him I'll dine
She cried
She thought
She was like us
She wasn't odd

He perched as if he was a crow
Over her shoulder
He dug his claws
Into her soft pale freckled arm
She burst with tears
She burst with blood
She was like us
She wasn't odd...

Ps. Dedicated to Little Deer Running

DO GORY NOGAMI

O Miłość błagamy
Z nogami nad głową
Bliźniego
I tak go kochamy
Fruwamy
Fruwamy...

Mieszamy stopami tlen
Ponad nozdrzami
łapczywie wdychamy
Atmosfer omamy
Wciąż więcej i więcej
A żadna z nich nie chce
Zostać nam powietrzem
Zdychamy
Zdychamy...

O miłość błagamy
Tanimi wierszami
A ona natchniona cudzymi myślami
Przychodzi nie do nas
Czekamy
Czekamy...

O miłość
Jak z głową pomiędzy chmurami
Udami
Lecimy
Spadamy
Spadamy...

CHILDREN OF THE DUSK

There is a silent hope gathered within vessels of this World
We scream at one another
And penetrate its bones
Like a marrow
We got rotten
And World dies of cancer
As we do of a lack of the answer

Do we really believe one another?
We wait
Like gods of pagan dawns
Squashed into somebodys prayers
By odd accident
Or totally on purpose
In order to provoke a miracle
Or an anger
Or ignorance of the virtue
You never know what you may get...

Almighty thoughts
Almighty us
In us we trust
In us lay
Lusts
Lies
Goddbyes
Regrets
All we detest

The Rest lies in the silence
That turns into us
The Rest is in us
As we turn to silence
With faces painted into violence...

Someone touches hands with us
And says that all is fine
And will be
And so will we
Polluted and worn out
But Immortal as Art...

***

So again
Mister Dusk keeps falling
On us
As it did on our ancestors
Formerly
And what shall we do?
Who shall we ask?
Who shan't we trust?

We fall into dusk
And talk to each other
Embraced by the gloom
Lying one in another
In emptied room of our desires
Hoping to bloom by dawn

The connection of our hands
Becomes a reflection in a broken mirror
And we cut one another to death
Of the conscience
Or other
Virtue
Which we've forgotten to visit
As it offers no drink when we come
So why shall one bother...

Refusing to go
Since dust covered us like snow
We-Mountain's hills
Still we squeal
We lie next to another
Linked somehow
With our wounds raw and silent
And fallen into dawn...

Ps. Inspired by Little Deer (still) Running...

STREET

Street
Keeps it quiet
We never speak anymore of our midnight strolls
Some unuttered hunger lingers in the vessels of this town
It wants me now...

A bird perched on the city's clay
Though I don't fly
I travel beyond the time
With my claw grasping white stars
And a cosmic dust
And lights of those rays at the bottom of God's eye...

Twinkling
Like a freckle on the flesh of this city
I blossom as a tattoo
The Raven with its wings outspread
Between the blade-bones of urban space
And the reels in my head

I’m a bird of prey…

RETRIEVE YOURSELF

Hey
Retrieve yourself
Little Brunette
And the shelves of your existence
Will finally
Glide
One above the other like they used to
Though being resistance will remain underneath their epidermis
Not even Ghosts are within the power to influence changes
If they only knew your face…

You keep repeating those rituals of pagan dawns
Paying a Worship to the Make Up
And The Other Gods of Yours

There is always some wind behind the window
There will always be some rain
In your glass
And a graceful touch of the Sculptor
And his burin…

The morning sketch of a life
In all its glory
Within a brush
Within a blush
Within your hands folded like to a Prayer

Black Coffee
On the lips of yours
Yourself
On the lips of others...

And you still try
To be somebody’s coffee break

Little Brunette
Like a Believer
In a Fake…

YOU CAN NEVER RETURN

You can never return
It burns
Turns you inside out
And it's there
Though your lipstick wears out
Lingers on somebody else's eyelids
And smells like yesterdays fairytale
Squashed into the book
You can never return from its page
They flick through you
As if you were told
On some cold evening to put accidental guests to sleep
You can never remain real
Lying next to them
While they utter your name
On and on
Like a Prayer sticking to the teeth
With crumpled snatch of disgrace
Words cannot touch tongues in infinity
Without a risk of fading fake...

PREDESTYNACJA

Zarysowałam na ciemno powieki
Zamazałam z rana
I moje oczy zaszły cieniem
Kiedy przejaśniać się zaczęło
Zarysowana, zamazana
Już nic nie zmienię
Chyba raczej
Ja-spod rak twoich
Arcydzieło

Predestynacja
Taka teza
Predestynacja
Mnie uderza
Obcina mi po cichu włosy
Oczy na ciemno zamazuje
Predestynacja mnie uderza
I czasem czuję, że nie czuję

Siniaków znów na sobie noszę
Koło tysiąca
Albo więcej
I tylko proszę, jak żebraczka
O jeszcze kilka
Twoje ręce

By o poranku nakładając
Znów na powieki cień w samotności
Widzieć, że byłeś
pozostawiłeś
Ślady miłości na moim ciele
W dzikim kochaniu mnie malowałeś
Żebym nie czuła, że nie czuję
Już nigdy
Na mnie zapisałeś
Te pamiętniki
Tatuaże…

Predestynacja
I niech się stanie
Ja
Ty
Na ciałach naszych pejzaże
I świat w odcieniach fioletu
Amen...

MONTHLY

Looking for some new quality
Surrounded by
Abrasive walls of
Bitter Aftertaste
I relish
The significance of bitterness
From them

Short cut grass
A boyfriend in the Purgatory Room
His body
Prune alike
As if he was just out of the bath
And he’s still polluted

I can not bear
The girl in the Cloister of The Hell
Is humming same song
On and on
Her body is pollution
Of the atmosphere
As well

Random Child
In a basement
Of her mind
The error
Abandoned
Erased
Till next month

Fertile ideas
Of brotherly love
We’re all
Over it
We’re all above

PRAYER

God, oh God
Teach me
How to fly
No wings I have
No strings above
But pull me up
Teach me now
Show me how to penetrate
Trees crowns dwelling in the Skies
And how to converse with birds and clouds
Convert into one of them
I’m formed with feathers, fluff and dust by dusk
Tell my soul how to be weightless
Naked, true and endless
How to never lie
Never die...

FOR THE SAKE OF STAYING ALIVE

The quiet ages
Of mind
Don’t you dare
To come
Before I died
I usually don’t
When you’re around

Silence
Staring at me
From the walls
Emptiness is
Puling my hair
Nobody calls
Whoever cares
I don’t

I want
My life back
And to yell
Breaking the vacuum
Into white pieces of infinite Art
And being myself
Despite me
Or whoever is there
To object

I’m ready for rejection
Or middle fingers
Poked at my face
For disgrace
Broken connections
Lies
Goodbyes
Treacherous smiles

Warned
Once more
I’m not
Going to
Fall silent
Nor violent
To fall at all
Not going to faint

My life
The Collection of Screams
Remains
Unchanged
The same…

KOLORY MIASTA

Dublin Mój
Uwolniony
od zahamowań
i wstydu
że świat nie leży w mej dłoni
jak miał

Moje Howth
przystań,
gdzie się gubię pośród ciał
by odnaleźć jutra sens
nocy treść
i kolory białych dni,
w których cała gama barw
się ukrywa
tkwi
pod powieką
niewidomej czasem duszy

ktoś ta nocą mnie ogłuszył
kolorowa w środku dnia
i mnie chwycił
i mną szarpnął
mleko nagle kazał pić
ssać jak pierś
choć nie pamiętam
żebym ssakiem miała być

od piersi odstawiona
jak z jajka-niespodzianki
wykłułam się z łona
miasta
na ten Nowy Świat

I chodzę,
Moj Dublinie,
nogami powłóczę
i kolorów twoich na pamięć się uczę
i wdycham opary myśli doskonałych
w zapach uzbrajając pojedyncze z barw
i czyniąc kolory kolorowsze jeszcze
otaczam się ślisko - kochanym powietrzem
wilgocią, co daje sie zamykać oczom
ustom nakazując pierś przygodną ssać

Rude pocałunki
i lepkie kochanie
w odcieniach Dublina...

Miejsca, co smakują jak znajoma ślina
ciągle połykane
mimochodem czasem
i bezwarunkowo...

i nieuczęszczane
z przymrużonym okiem
Ulice - Dziewice
lekko używane
czekające w ciszy na spenetrowanie...

Wiecznie uchylone
Bramy - Rozpustnice
w nadziei na orgazm
błagają o wejście...

To odnajdywanie Miasta we mnie samej
I ciągle na nowo
Siebie w Moim Mieście...

LITTLE WARHOL

W tłumaczeniu- Mały Warhoł :P

THE CREATION...

Within the touch of brush...

...

JAK WIERSZ

Nie chcę tak żyć
Z uśmiechem przyklejonym
Do wnętrza twojej dłoni

Nie chcę tak leżeć
W bezruchu
Wyścielając ci wnętrze kielicha

Cicha
I zimna
Winna

Moczyć twą twarz na siłę dłonią
I kłaść się spać
I musieć wstać

Nie jestem tym
Co mówię
Ani tym
Co robię
Kłamię sobie samej w twarz

I Tobie
I Ciebie

Nie chcę
Bo nie chcę
Pluję powietrzem
Już teraz wiesz

Nie jestem tobą
Osobą
Ani obok

Jestem
Jak wiersz...

IDENTITY

And she felt you
I fell for you

Sky has stopped to move
The Earth again desists to turn
As I still lie
Without a lie
She just denied to come and burn

Down in the abyss of deepest hell
She lies and sighs for you
To be right there
Dried
Ex to her...

And in the bottom of the hell
I pray for you to dwell nearby

And I and her
We feel the same
Rolling those stones the same steep hill
She writes you poems
I paint your face
And her and I
We lie and cry...

We clasp in palms same eyeless dolls
Barefeet we stroll
We call your name...

Both we were born same year
Same day
Same minute gave as jetblack hair

We've seen your sins
I pinned the doll
She holds my hand so I won't run
The floor I touch turns into sand
She has refused to fall no more

And her and I
We sit and die...

THE GIRL WITH A SHAM ROCK RING

Shamrock, Shamrock
What have you done to me?
You taught me to be
You forced me to write
You told me to paint
To stand for what I believe in

And why would you leave me
Alone
With this green faith of mine?

Four-leafed and out-lined...

Shamrock
What did you do to my bed?
Stretched alike canvas on a frame
I lie
With my skin painted over
I await

Shamrock, Shamrock
Blind me with all those Worlds and Words
Of other colours and scents
Exchange my withered eyelids
For your petals of green

Reminiscence I beam

Shamrock
Who could you match me with?
Are his shoes suede?
Does he know how to dance?
Would he keep palming goblets off on me?

Shamrock, Shamrock
I'm painting my beliefs
In thousands shades and shapes
Then all alone I'm lying prone
On my bed of velvet sweat

And there is him
Handing another goblets of faith
Into my palm
Until I faint

I lie by staircase
Where him and I
Merge into one
And then he's gone...

And yet there comes another he
Another stairs
Another case

And yet again
I come and faint
And yet again
I paint and paint

Sham rocks
I wear upon my hands
And sham I
Whatever I touched
Sham became

Lovers and Friends I plead no guilt!

Sham rocks
They're throwing at my face!

SIMPLY... THE QUEEN

The Queen of The Night
However it sounds...

FEAR

Where am I?
And who...?
Wearing blue pyjamas of my Grandfather's
Firmly attached to cracked skin of mine
I link myself to the past
And I guess that I just don't know
Where to go...

Searching for answers
I look my blood into the eyes
They're dry

And why?

In front of the mirror
I'm losing my grace
Some creature made of glass
Is eating up my face...
And spitting out
My skin
Chewed up

He says - It's crap...

Praying for a friend
I kneel in a mud
And glad...
And fear
I feel

Finding few of them
Under my cars wheel...

THE BIRTH-ACHE

I cherish my mornings
Marked with
The scent of coffee seeds
Burnt till they perish

Permanent attempt for a poem
When eye's not even sure
To be awake
And mentioned coffee
Doesn't seem to make it anymore

Words linger underneath the skin
They own
Me and my tongue

Touched by the Art
Me- scared
Me- scarred
Now...
Am I healed or gone?

Did I swallow those poems?
How many of them still roam
As a chronic pain throughout my bones?

The birth-ache...

And I think my mornings merge
Into one
Almighty Coffee Break...

JUTRO SIĘ STAŁO

Jutro się dzieje
W nas
I poza nami
I nawet go nie odczuwamy

Wieczór nas zmienia
W wieczne dowidzenia
Nas
I czas
I dowody istnienia

Potem się staje
Poza oczami
Wewnętrznie
Za nami
Z rękami związanymi
I ciało
I słowo
W nas wciska
Na nowo…

OPPOSITES

We are not
What we planned to be
We're not what we wished to become
Not even what we were wished to look alike
We're not here to please
Nor to be pleased
We're all the rest
All that wasn’t suggested
The opposite and the contradiction
In terms
We are the crumpled background image for apologies

BLUŹNIERSTWO

Karcer na mnie kiwa
Palcem
Paznokcie
W kolorze ciszy
Nosi z dumą

I nie słyszy nas już nawet rosa
Gęsta i lepka
Boża łza
Tamta cierpka
Z przedwczoraj

I czemu znów płacze?
Nade mną
Stoi
Przecież jest ciemno
I wszystko jedno

Wciąż kaleczymy buty chodzeniem
Na ostrzu noża

Znaczę dywany
Jego łokciami
W odciskach widzę
Jeszcze nadzieję

Czemu się śmieje?
Wisi nade
Mną
I nade
Wszystko

Wszystko Mu jedno…

NOSZĘ KRAWATY...

Noszę krawaty
I często myśli
W kosmatym kolorze
Fioletu
Bądź zieleni
I odstaję od świata
Na odległość sztyletu

Mój dom ma ostrze
Zamiast ściany
Ciał dotykam w krwi skąpanych
Ciętych marzeniami

W ciszy gromadzą się
Wewnątrz mnie
Dusze przesiąknięte zapachem sztuki

Boskość z powietrza wyrastająca
Kaleczy mnie w dziąsła
Bez końca…

I tylko słowa, słowa, słowa
Porośnięte bliznami...

ON MY KNEES...

Praying to the ceiling
For the Gods or Angels
To fall
And press me down
Under the ground
Where the Hell
Embraces all its heirs...

W WALIZCE...

Nie umiem ciała ubierać w słowa
Chowam je
W oczy
Wiecznie zamknięte
To coś jak poznać
Kolor milczenia
I w dowidzeniach miłość usłyszeć
Aż wyrastają z ciszy paznokcie
Pomalowane na purpurowo
I daję słowo...
Muszę malować usta bez końca
By były blade
I wiecznie śliskie
Szukać znajomych źrenic
W walizce...

Dla BS.

LEPKI WIERSZ

Tusz na rzęsy
Kładę gęsty
Oczy
Przed światłem zasłonić
Źrenice nietknięte
Chronić
Ręce przymierzam do czoła
I na migi
Boga wzywam

W głowie tylko słowa święte…
Czasem słyszę, lecz nie bywam
Wewnątrz się materia miesza
A tam wiesza się ktoś we mnie

Ktoś pod stopą czuję-leży
Mierzy czas wewnątrz butelki
Wino nocą mi wypija
Wino winne
Pan jest Wielki…

Lateksowe twarze dzieci
Zamiast zdjęć w portfel mi wciska
Leżą,
Jakby mnie kochały
Chwały zapach czuję lepki
Chwały strumień z żył mi tryska…

PS. Pisany na zlecenie. Pozdrawiam Damian...

SO YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL HEAVEN FROM HELL..?

There’s actually no heaven
Without a hell
And reverse
There’s no pleasure
Without a pain
No touch without disgrace
Though you can find disgrace
In abstract
To touch
And anything physical
But can you tell it one from another?
And would you bother…?