What right do you have to sting another
And direct the venom where it will kill
What right do you have to steal a life
and drown it in a lake somewhere
What right do you have to cut the throat
Then justify the painful slice
What right do you have to misery
When creating it comes that easily
What right do you have to opening
A mouth darkened by your frequent bite
What right do you have to turn rose to blue
And make the world a simpering mess
What right do you have to live lies
And with cold eyes make them real
What right do you have to turn to stone
Because movement threatens even you
What right do you have to talk softly
About that which you know nothing
What right do you have to trick the mind
And soften its resistant force
What right do you have to loving me
When loving isn't definite

The despair of ambiguity
The lost and found in us
The head is laced with reason
The heart encases truth
The awe of what we will be
The hiding place we've found
The external narrative stays
The unknowing translation
The seeing is all there
The perception overrides

What was that day
Or unslept night
What tea was sipped
Under foreign covers
Where did you drive
And with which testing thoughts
What urban trial was had
What livid person spat your way
What didn't you adore
And who returned that
For you to melt into a seat near mine
And taste long gone leaves of memory
For you to sidle down a busy street
Swinging hands as cold as old loves
Styling the air with rapid grace of voice
Singing the only melody we both know

Might do might say might love
might be
might burn might trip might sink
might stall
might love and love in love for all
might just wake up
from the mighty fall

The insides and outsides of my empty heart
Are fluttering in perpetual rhythm
In time with the corners of my tired mind
In time with the longing of another you

Deafiningly you fill me
a silence wraps my heart
and in it you appear
under blankets of despair
warm and into love
you break a mind's rotten life
injecting life in droves
and holding Hope's hand
you make that all is broken
and unbreak all that is lost
with a still and quiet soul
erring through worlds
in positive winds

Wild woman and man
let distinct suns sing
and the moon inside rejoice
listen out for time
but catch eternity with
your free flowing breath
spread white butterfly wings
Over your whimsical worlds
sweeten your own powers
thrive in your pure visibility
trickle water through stone
use human love and universal hope
and make it your own home.

my journey

My journey is my friend
it waits for me every day
escorts me to my work
and laughs with me at play

My journey tell me things
I never could have known
It points me in directions
that only birds have flown

My journey watches me
from rooftops and cafes
and hurries me along
to avoid any delays

magical realist

you're the magical realist
dicing up the dreams
that i lost
infusing bread with honey
soaking long gone hope
in gloopy marinades
that stick happily to joy
you simmer love
and burn grit
and mould fantasy flour
into any dough you want

Nic Dwa razy

Nic dwa razy się nie zdarza
i nie zdarzy. Z tej przyczyny
zrodziliśmy się bez wprawy
i pomrzemy bez rutyny.

Choćbyśmy uczniami byli
najtępszymi w szkole świata,
nie będziemy repetować
żadnej zimy ani lata.

Żaden dzień się nie powtórzy,
nie ma dwóch podobnych nocy,
dwóch tych samych pocałunków,
dwóch jednakich spojrzeń w oczy.

Wczoraj, kiedy twoje imię
ktoś wymówił przy mnie głośno,
tak mi było, jakby róża
przez otwarte wpadła okno.

Dziś, kiedy jesteśmy razem,
odwróciłam twarz ku ścianie.
Róża? Jak wygląda róża?
Czy to kwiat? A może kamień?

Czemu ty się, zła godzino,
z niepotrzebnym mieszasz lękiem?
Jesteś - a więc musisz minąć.
Miniesz - a więc to jest piękne.

Uśmiechnięci, współobjęci
spróbujemy szukać zgody,
choć różnimy się od siebie
jak dwie krople czystej wody.

Wisława Szymborska

week...end

week...end please end my week
and weakened bliss
week...end I go weak just
knowing wecando this

Your secrets

Your secrets I keep and carry them
on the wrong side of me
drinking your cans of anger
careful not to spill them wastefully
piercing the lies with my soul's fork
your secrets i keep universally.

i'm sorry I am

This morning I'm sorry
for whatever it's worth,
i'm sorry for being so sorry
a state
and sorry I am for punching you
in your most delightful head
and knocking out your peachy smile
and biting your serenity
and kicking in your bouncing heart
and beating your every true word.

the real inside

I don't know what my innards want
Exploding here and sinking there
they seem to want me to pretend
that before the pain was nothing there
and so they sit inside a cage
built around the story I know
Their tubes entwine with a mortal loss
of what was once imperious fun
they bend around my other mind
eager for its peace and void
filled with the weekend's perilous junk
that hides the truth that got annoyed
they simply want to flow with me
but don't have time or energy
so sluggishly they move in the rhythm
of a london tube stuck on it's own line
hoping that their green light comes
amidst the reds of bodily strife
and speedily make way to light
just as I will bring them rest.

My red boots

Red boots laced in warmth
polished in tradition
brought to life
by a pair of other wordly feet
that know their place
in the sphere of their nation
in the rhythm of their elders
and the march of their past
and the waltzes of their present
and the krakowiak of tomorrow

whatever defines

what defines your world
what defines your love
what defines the innocuous pace of your breath?
what defines your moments in between others
what defines the stillness of your  dawdling heart?
What defines your tragic sense of self
what defines the lack of that sometimes?

A treasure in an oil spill

You shine beneath a gloopy surface

It hides the parallel world you store

Oil and water don’t mix well,

And I can’t see in between

The test

You learnt the hard way
looked covered and learnt
you peered at words
splitting the hairs that cram your head

You learnt that life
takes more than sitting
to work your way up to your top
and hardly question why

The test is trust and
you do that so well
with all your form and all your depth
you're moving through and testing time
and never looking back.

Silent you

silent, silent, silent days,
stick the heart in it's home- made maze
silent, silent, silent hours
trick the heart and wilt all flowers

silent, silent, silent time
without which there would be no grime
silent, silent, silent air
circles the depths of my own despair.

silent, silent, silent rush
to help the muck and the mush
silent, silent, silent voices
remind me of the only choices.

two

under and over you
you're the the catch 22
to make my heart go blue
you forgot the meaning of two