robert bronisz **** CHICAGO

Lost on the side of the 11-mile road
should I persist?
or should I watch my shadow become one with this night
grow its teeth into the dark?
and what Word
if any
will help me find myself in the morning
if  this darkness never ends
and never ceases to amaze my soul?

Pilgrims pass me as if I were a stone
I am not
I am a road kill that says
“it will happen to you if you are not careful, son”
At the ninth mile now
It hasn’t always been that far
two more to go before I am done
with cruel lies I lived by
the pole broken under all hopes
a gentle breeze pushes dirt over the wounded ground

I saw this road
as leading somewhere
but it is desert
they say
the desert has no face

but it smiles back at me
with its canine teeth

wild side of the 11-mile road
I barely walk

let me put you under some roof
lonely man
in this state
you are your own enemy
you will say something to yourself
you shouldn’t hear from anybody
take my hand
it will lead you to a better place
down this empty road
some call it natural death here
but I can’t prove them wrong
otherwise, it is OK
to wander on the border
of sanity
spring is coming if you had the money
love too
isn’t that far
bring it to the table
whatever you have left
impress fate
by the way
you shouldn’t rest your head on a train track
and it is raining
I get drunk too
you don’t know my story
but I am twice your age
trust me
I worked harder than this
to lose my memory
and soul

so how did you get so lonely?
so early?
stand up
look fucker
they will call the police on both of us
I am illegal and
shit
you are high like there were no trains coming
or Monday

it is all fake
all a lie
rapid motions in my eyes
took me out of this gravity drama
supervision failed
the closer to the truth
the more I am alive
and dead to those who devise
marching bands for my fall
surrendering no more
I know
my mind plays games
with shadows of a doubt
for a better reason than fear and flight
it will never be the same
the cage
look at them
Snakes
they will post another god tomorrow
another empty face on a high pole
I will need to behead at the end of the day
looking forward to peace
as the dust settles on a blade
and I again
have no place to stay
sane for the night
or the rest of this morning star’s darkness
taking me for another ride among slaves

 

some people nurture the lie
others choose to be deceived
from dishonest to dumb
what a way to survive for a day
among the floods of hell
go places blind
unable to read the script between the lines
critter folded in mud stuck for another bottom life

warnings fell on deepwater
signs
you will never know
which future has drowned and
which future still floats on the surface of silence
to keep you down
to make you forget your fantasy
to make you never touch
neither blue nor white of the clouds above
perception
dreams
I say
you are being moved to trash by the upper hand
tossed into cultivated dirt
made grow spikes to respond to pain
grow horns
grow sick with the disease
this unfamiliar ground has poisoned every root
you drank liquid future with

is it true
no plant
escapes this gardener unharmed?

 

they don’t own any of my thoughts
everything I have known is mine
grown with love
my magical crop
my sacred flowers of mind

in case of an intrusion on my garden
the rising
the shining Sun of my intellect
overrides what they twisted around
shocked or disturbed

carefully reconstructs
Devine insights they decapitated with conspiracy of silence
resists compliance
after they violently contaminated the past of my race
with false memories
true crimes
they got away with

As I walk through my existence
I clearly see imitations behind faces
rivers to inconsequence
wasteland and swamp
like a maniac question manufactured toys of anti-nature
breathe deep through doubt
struggle upright when under pain of decay

mirror Moon
bloody Moon
your phantoms
won’t dwell in me
I am a life maker
and this collective trip
will put me to a better death
than at the last juncture
with your energies

what do you want from me?
I kill the best I can
isn’t getting out of town fun?
ruins ahead of tanks
corpses shrouded in mud grow into the likes of the ancient art form
it is so quiet now I can’t sleep
rest my face on a blade paid by the Snakes
and listen
for the choirs of the fallen church
down the memory lane
broken up images of mother’s love
from before the treasonous government stamped a bar code on my fate

no
no prayer can soothe the despair of a soldier
consciousness keeps laying to conscience
exit wounds burn through the bandage of innocence
orgy in blood
gets greater as boots get shiner
mouths louder
on millions of stolen souls
who wants to be the king of the killing machines?
stupid little man
that place has been taken for ages
you are just criminal dirt
on the surface of carefully calculated
big-data murder

heroes
fanatics who bleed for demons
for nothing precious but stinking death
the wise ones are already stranded and spent
biting dust
Earth shed its skin
for the prison of the promised land
promised to traitors
cancer
scum 

when you look up at the blue sky
do you even see the pigs
with golden rings and stars
flying over graves
laughing
drunk conspiracy
to commit genocide
Lucifer
programmed this world in a language I speak
but if you are thinking
every word hurts like giving birth
to one-eyed freak
with an obsessive-compulsive disorder
you
my man

 

everything cabal makes you think it is
it is not
it is nothing
but the same global game
for everything hidden
with clowns playing heroes
and murder becoming sacrificial release
of demons into the world
around the clock
for thousands of thunders
Heaven is watching
the slaughter of innocents
silent
cold as a viper evil presence
follows all life
into the rabbit hole
go deeper
ask
how many wars longer
will the assault last?
I am tired

come day or night
come by

Messiah

wszystko będzie cudownie
wrócimy tu jako kwiaty
żeby znowu o świcie stratowało nas bydło
pędzone  horyzontem od ogona do mordy
zaszczute strachem i gnojem
szarpane po organach przez chore hieny Szatana
powoli odrobimy straty do śmierci własnej i wszystkich świętych
prawa stworzenia okażą nam łaskawość i zatańczymy wokół ogona
naszych właścicieli oraz każdej zarazy jaką nam podadzą
na dzień dobry i dobranoc
Boże, jak to będzie cudownie
obudzić się we śnie
następnego życia
Myślę teraz, że nawet zdążymy zbudować magiczny zamek
który nigdy nie będzie nasz, ale będziemy bronić jego wież pazurami i krwią,
niebo niedorozwinięte nad jego dachem wyczaruje nam codziennie
jakiś zajmujący los
najazd dzikich hord albo powódź
mam nadzieję, że kochasz swój natarczywie
podany do ust
padół u stóp
lekarstwo na ból dupy w niebie

quiet submission to death
took away a whole army of my teachers
painters
philosophers
writers
one by one they were silenced
not one survived the fortunes of this place
upon becoming deceased
some were hastily burnt to ashes
others covered with earth
for weeks devoured by maggots
rhythms of the  weather
futile funeral processions
I have become a witness to the holocaust
of my world
bridges to better days are burnt beyond repair
cosmos collapsed
all my supposedly eternal waves of wisdom
lost their original source and foundations
that made me into the structure I am
pathetic
how little of a calendar space
one life inhabits
when measured by the travels of the Sun
other external devices
powered by wishful thinking and desires
The fabric is being woven for the kings out of this world
as the threads below blend into painfully visible non-existence
holding hands doesn’t help
love doesn’t help
waves are always on the run
as the ocean glitters anew for seemingly no other purpose
than the vanity of reinventing its surface