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Ego funeral

would I be selfish
if I expected
trees to stop climbing to living skies
waves to stop wanting to crash
Moon to stop breaking through the curtains of night
calendars to stop navigating our minds through time
after I died?
a funeral procession takes spectators
I expect none
just my body and the undertaker
working overtime for extra cash while it lasts
me
being late
being old
free of myself
and for fun in the afterworld
him
to make ends meet
a full circle of life
on the cemetery
funeral bells
wailing irony and hate
to summer storms

would I be selfish
if I expected to die last
so only I suffered through every single loss of life
but mine?

unfollowed by family
what do I stand to lose?
the trees that climb to the stars
waves that crash
The moon that shines through the night

calendars don’t count
chariots of time get buried with us
calendars die
from exposure to humans

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Hard-to-Name Day

 

one
transparent life
seven different days
each painted bright
differently dyed by frequencies
playing out their maverick designs
against the music of the spheres

as a master draftsman
I wouldn’t count on them to name themselves
if not for the tide of darkness:
Night
ingenious apostate
it helps me separate and identify them
then
consciously
immerse myself in a current of Saturdays through Fridays

Night
magically washes the seven days down
sees off colorful
laud
waves of them
into a translucent spectacle of the Past
my body and mind often yearn for

still
at the back of my head
there is longing for a tide of light
single
never-ending day made from an infinite fabric
not a slave to the procession in Time
the hard-to-name day
painted as bright
as different
that will not drown in darkness:
Salvation

 

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Insomnia Satanica

11:19 just flashed at my face
right after 11:11 made itself present
only a few whispers ago
a few incomprehensible utterances that plunged me into the darkness
therefore I am waiting
slowly sinking into the badlands of mind
lamb
paranoid lamb deluded by the assault of nightfall
anticipating projections from omens and gods
nervously
awaiting sudden reset of the only world I cherish and know

tomorrow
on Day of The Sun
soon
I will open my eyes to 1:09
like tormented I did yesterday
and before leaving late for my paranoid cosmos
on Day of the Moon
I will look at the infinity watch
to absorb 9:11
bold sign from the dark side

then awaken
I will see through car plates
adds
house numbers
key chains
over and over again
multi-dimensional predicament announced
pursued by apprehension too loud for comfort

last time it was NDE
this precise
phantom language encrypted in memory lapse
taste of asphalt
pain therapy
undeserved chastisement
of which
each
by now
became invariable custom

Master of Numbers
father
tell me
what is it
of this world
that is going to shift me to another?

what are You trying to imply
will happen to this sickening place
on present Earth I willingly took
so far
survived
its patterns and engagements?

 

 

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False World

not a trace of Today will remain left
before Tomorrow
even if Yesterday materialized to desirable effect

everything rubs off on the surface
of subliminal “ As Above”
while birds and ribbons evaporate below
people dissolve into thin air as if I wanted to breathe in
their commitment to blind faith
shield
I left behind on a battlefield

the choice between emotional resonance
or pure logic :
trample over corpses to the promised arrangement
to bring about fetal movements of the false world
approve of promiscuous business of prayers
or
as the gates collide
take a break from conscience
ask the falling sky
why the light went red
high and out of time

 

 

***

Do jutra nie pozostanie z dzisiaj nic
nawet gdyby wczoraj nigdy nie było
wszystko wyciera się o powierzchowność
zanika esencja i jej opakowanie
ludzie rozpływają się w powietrzu
którym niepotrzebnie oddycham
jakbym chciał kupić czas
Chyba potraktuję z buta
niepokalane drzwi do nieba
albo do jakiegoś innego wyuzdanego
świetego burdelu szeptów i gestów
lekarstw na przejściowe uspokienie sumienia

 

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Reflection in a form of prayer

Lord
in a position of power over me
true
veteran
of every crime on humanity
I forgive you
and I am human
hurt and enslaved at the dawn of the New Era
You are dying to watch
as we will die for

Lord
I hide from nothing
I have been through this path many lives before
You see
everything
this life
is special to me
this infection with flesh
blood
with needle and expiration date
will You ever understand Now
You Eternal
will you comprehend death
alienation from the taste of words
thoughts
sound of baby steps into pain
from all this annoying free will
pound for pound
day by day
acts of magic against
down-to-Earth beads of chaos
scattered on the ground?

what did You expect from
organisms with lesser brains and greater souls

Lord

I am not integrating with You
I am fading away into a howling abyss
abandoning places and people
abandoning chances
will You ever understand
or will You remain inhuman
God-like
and in the end, I will be left to myself
to cease

…

Panie
w pozycji władzy nade mną
prawdziwy weteranie każdego przestępstwa na ludzkości
wybaczam Ci
choć jestem człowiekiem
jak inni ludzie zranieni i samotni o świcie nowej ery
za którą umieramy

Panie
 Nie uciekam przed niczym
 przeszedłem tę ścieżkę wiele żyć wcześniej
Ty widzisz wszystko
to istnienie jest dla mnie niezwyczajne
ta niebywała infekcja ciałem
krwią
 igłą i datą ważności
czy kiedykolwiek zrozumiesz Teraz
Ty wieczny
czy pojmiesz wyobcowanie z kształtu słów
myśli
ze ślepych kroków w ból
z całej tej irytującej wolnej woli i każdego aktu magii lub przyziemnego losu zwanego przeznaczeniem
konaniem

Panie
 odchodzę w otchłań jęku
porzucając miejsca i ludzi
rezygnując z szans
czy kiedykolwiek to zrozumiesz czy pozostaniesz
nieludzko Boski
i w końcu ostatecznym znajdę się sam

 

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Non omnis moriar

I breathed imagination
whatever shreds were left of it
Memory froze all images for a while
streets
curbs
loneliness raining on faces

and I followed myself into ascension
to become one with the universe
beside my frame

I guess
I have winged soul with hope and false promises
slowly swam through a web of rivers
into the mouth of an open ocean
and since yesterday
in contrast to the common knowledge
I consider Time a fundamental fool
because Yesterday never stayed
it meant no reality to be
no illusions to dream
no trumpets nor towers
it meant
there wasn’t any of this bitter madness from birth to waste
lonely hours of ill fate
or falling into pieces

all was faked

“wait for your turn”
whispers magic of barely conceived Today
from which it is to grow
shrouded in words
my beautiful Eternity
as Yesterday wore out along the roads
I took
to find it

***

Oddycham wyobrażnią
tylko ona pozostala  z ulotnego tchnienia
życia
duszę się

Wczoraj na chwilę zatrzymałem
wszystko co krwawi tutaj brutalna samotnością
i śledziłem siebie w wymiarach wniebowstąpienia
jakbym był nieobliczalną przestrzenią
poza chorym ciałem

prawdopodobnie płonną nadzieją uskrzydliłem duszę
i dlatego od Wczoraj mam Czas
w przeciwieństwie do dominujących wierzeń
za fundamentalnego durnia
bo przecież Wczoraj nigdy nie było
nie było jawy i złud
fanfar i wież
nie było całego tego szaleństwa od urodzenia do zaprzepaszczenia

nadejdzie spokój
tak przekonuje mnie magia
właśnie poczętego Dzisiaj
z którego ma wyrosnąć
pogrążona  w snach
moja poddana Wieczność

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Home Army Tribute

trees keep quiet
they won’t tell who sang
and who choked on blood

no matter whose death
the song or blood described

walls remain somber
they won’t tell who flew off
and who crashed on his face

even if the bluest sky fell on its knees to ask
for forgivness

 

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So quiet, brother

brother
you had a real home I don’t
wife, I don’t
child, I don’t
and still, it was you
who left this wealth of life
to questions about the purpose of it all
what’s wrong
damn it
brother
how could you go?
why is air
suddenly so bloody around us
as darkness is feeding on every minute of your mother’s pain
her screams bleed through my throat every day now
brother
who let you leave for where we can’t follow yet
who do we blame for missing parent
uncle
brother?
and who on Earth
plays God
in this fabricated hell down here?

it wasn’t you
but we were Titans

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Crown

you can’t save yourself from yourself
deny day
firmament of its night
son of man
futile efforts
nothing is real you anymore but the wall
the stone of your face
the circle of death in every path you take
you alone
are following the last days with nails in your hands
look to your woman
she might be the answer
and take away the pain
crown you earned
yet
think twice before giving up control
of the living blood, you are
don’t wait for others
these are not your friends
and for Christ’s sake
let the rage of a wild animal
caught in a mortal snare
not the silent desperation of the darkest hour
be the sign of faith

…

nie jesteś w stanie ocalić siebie
dniom odebrać sklepienia nocy
płonne wysiłki
synu
człowieczy
nic nie jest już prawdziwym tobą
tylko ta ściana
kamień twarzy
krąg śmierci na każdej drodze, którą podążasz
jedyny
śledzisz dni ostateczne z gwoździami w dłoniach
spójrz
ona niesie odpowiedź
ukoi ból
koronę na którą tak cieżko pracowałeś
niemniej jednak zastanów się
zanim oddasz jej krew
którą płyniesz
którą na litość boską jesteś
niech szaleństwo wściekłego zwierzęcia
w śmiertelych sidłach
a nie cisza czarnej godziny
będzie znamieniem przekształcenia