Yummy!

An incredible thing happened to me (mind you, recently the word "incredible" hasn't functioned the way it used to), that is I ran into a poem, probably the origin of the one I put on my blog in May 2009 (see The Sweetest Poem Ever). Overexcited, I decided to:

• share the poem with you (whoever is reading this, very probably not many, but those who do, feel like prize-winners)
• try writing my own short poems (perhaps not extremely challenging, but doing well in the time of The Great Autumn Depression, I guess)

I'm going to start with a poem I admire every time I read it, the poem written by Matthew Sweeney and titled "Poem Spoken by a Cat to Its Owner's Friends Who are Flat-sitting":
I have eaten
the chicken
you had on the sideboard
defrosting

and which you were hoping
to roast
and serve with wine
to your friends

forgive me
I'm a cat
we have no manners
we're always like that

It's not that I'm ever going to like cats, even after such a simple statement and honest confession of one of them. However, as it turns out, they may be quite good material for a poem. Perhaps I should have thought about it before writing my own tiny piece of writing. And here it is:

I have eaten
almost nothing
and for a couple of months
with the same manner

and which you were hoping
I would change soon
and stop being
skinny and vicious

forgive me
seems I've lost
what made me fat and happy
now I'll die of hunger

You have the right not to like it, 'cause it's pessimistic. The next one will not mention the word 'dying,' I promise.

I have made
another face
one of those
you definitely dislike

and which you were asking me
not to repeat
in the nearest
future

forgive me
it was so tempting
your sweet fury
my repeated pleasure

I think now it's better although I disturbed the pattern this time (I changed eating into making). I'll try to work on that as well.

I have eaten
the remains of my brain
since I had to choose
between the brain and the heart

and which now seems to be
the easy way out
to be embraced
with no pricks of conscience

forgive me
looks like I've seen
too many soaps
they're no good for a woman

Am I melodramatic? I promise I will work on my sense of humour. Below you will find the last try. Enjoy.

I have eaten
humble pie
and you made me
eat my words too

and which was difficult
to swallow
I think I'll need
much more cola

forgive me
I've spoken too much again
next time
I will let you sink

That's it. Thank you for your patience.

decyzja

prawdopodobnie
zwierzałam ci się już
słabo pływam i dostaję paraliżu gdy tracę grunt

a gdy wypłynę już dalej
gdy brzeg nagle staje się rozmazaną linią
niepokój i boję się i pluskam bez kontroli
i nie wiem co robić gdzie bliżej gdzie lepiej
czy warto tracić tchu i wypalać nadziei ostatnie płomienie
czy warto płynąć do brzegu
bo po co się tak męczyć
po co umierać by przeżyć
po co poniżać się by przetrwać

czy potrzebna ta walka
przecież znam to miejsce
wyspa oziębłych jadowitych krawaciarzy
podłych zachrypłych szybkobiegaczy
nie chcę widzieć ich gardeł
i walczyć jak co dzień

może zwrócić się ku głębokości
poznać tajemnicę niezgłębionej wielkości
czy się się odważyć zaryzykować
nie bać się zajrzeć
do wnętrza oceanu nieskończonego

i Ty Władco głębin
czy przyjmiesz mnie tam?
czy odrzucisz jak rozbitka
zniesmaczony moim brakiem wdzięczności

bo może na brzegu jest więcej
niż suchy piach i zgniłych owoców smak
i ty mówisz mi też czasem
że za często odpływam od brzegu

dlaczego tak jest ja nie znam tych osób
co są dla mnie martwym krzykiem
nie rozumiem ich słów
ale głowa mi pęka od ich wrzasku

Chcę siły ognia...

Something is trying to kill me
I feel it in the air
I feel it in my neck
I hear it in my head
I chew it with my gum

They try to provoke me
They tell me lies
with widening smile
and roaring voice

stop them!
they intend to flatten my brain
and cut off my tongue
so that I speak no more

it is so painful
I must leave the scene
and the next person
that appears behind the curtain
will be but a puppet
a voiceless helpless puppet

Lesson 4: One sweet lie a day keeps potential enemies away!

You probably remember a song, quite an old one whose lines go "tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies." Earthians don't like the truth. Why not? The truth is very often painful. Even when they ask your opinion, they want to hear something nice, let it be untrue. Talking truly invites a number of enemies to your world. To me not understandable. But on the other hand, why, you probably won't cure that you criticize and that needs to be repaired. Instead, you can smile and praise and try to make the most of it and then everyone will be happy.

Oh, I almost forgot. Something nice to get your interest -

Lesson 3: What doesn't kill us makes us.... insane.

Did you really think that our ordeals eventually make us even stronger? Sometimes it is the case. Nevertheless, my point of view is slightly different. Namely, after two, three, or four disappointments in a row we get hurt and have less faith in people. This leads to two directions. Either the disappointed with a knife in his back will grow stronger, meaning less interested in what will happen next and more indifferent or he will become cautious if not oversensitive and desperetely trying to turn back the fate.

When we experience something unpleasant , we are often scared-stiff with the sole thought of getting hurt again, and crazy not to fail again. And what happens? We start to believe in fate, we become (yes, it happens) superstitious.

Of course you might disagree. I do believe that we grow stronger after harsh and trying experiences, but only if we can fully control the situation. And this hardly ever happens.

Lesson 2: There are so many laws; find one you can break.

It does not necessarily mean exceeding speed limit when driving a car or (something one is usually proud of:) driving recklessly and without seat belts.

I'd rather look for something more novel and, if possible, even unprecedented...

I always believed that each of us has a dark side inside and a tendency to do something the wrong way. Deep inside we want to be independent and free and make decisions by ourselves. We do not like other people interfere. Very often when saying "It's my life" we forget that actually it's life that, like it or not, we share with other people, in the sense that we depend on others and are responsible for others.

Accordingly, it is not that we are completely free when choosing a path, and a law to break... Sadly. There is always something, and we call it limits. It needs a brave and tough guy to overcome all the barriers. But on the other hand, poor we if we did not have those limits...

(picture: tattoo design by jacko 41)

Lesson 1: Without filth there is no wisdom.

One can say that he learnt a lot because he read a pile of books, whereas the other may say that he knows even more from, for instance, getting drunk as a teenager, running away from home, meeting 'bad' people, or leading a varied sexual life.

Sometimes such experiences, no matter how shocking, teach us more and make us wiser. How can you talk about lemon if you've never tasted it and got to know its sourness?

Likewise, how can you appreciate and praise sugar if you had nothing to contrast it with? Besides, sugar tastes much better after having tasted a sour lemon.

You cannot live your life constantly rejecting all evil from the world. Instead of covering your eyes with your smelling hands, open your eyes wide, for there is much to see and to choose. Use your eyes to observe both good and evil and use your tongue to taste the dark water. A wise man will draw a conclusion and proceed with his trip. A dumb man will choke and drown in the evil waters.

Pointing towards perfection. Do not disturb.

Una carta

Mi querido doctor,

Al primero querria pedirle perdon a usted por mi lengua. Asi que no soy de esta planeta, no hablo su lengua bien y perdoneme por mis errores que seguramente van a occurir. Estoy escribiendo a usted porque me siento muy mal. Todo el tiempo pensaba que me iba a mejorar y por eso pospuse nuestra visita y no nos vimos hace mucho tiempo.

Yo soy insomne, un caso muy raro. Me duele la cabeza mucho por pensando, sońando e imaginando muchas cosas por los dias y noches tambien. Y ahora... por mi culpa estas cosas, mis deseos, no van a cumplir.

No es facil amar alguien, es cierto, pero por otro lado, es mas dificil hacer alguien amarte con todo corazón y fuerza y sin dudas acompaniarte en los buenos y malos. Hoy es el dia de dudas, este mundo es un lugar dónde nadie esta seguro por nada y dónde vive la gente muy suave e insegura. Cómo puedes tener confianza en alguien asi... Ni hablar.

Si pudiera elegir entre de vivir por muchos ańos, muy aburridos y vanos dias, o vivir solo un mes, el de amor verdadero y sincero, elegia la opción segunda.

No estoy de acuerdo con muchas cosas en el mundo y creo que esto es mi problema principal. ?Que hago? No quiero ser un cobarde y escapar de todos obstaculos e inconvenientes. Pero en ninguna manera los solvare.

Estaria muy contenta si me recetara usted un medicamento. Ya no puedo mas y supongo que no voy a mejorarme.

Le deseo que todo le vaya muy bien.

Le saluda atentamente,

XXX

Teraz tak

Tym razem po polsku. Dla odmiany. Po lewej stronie dołączam i chwalę się swoimi fotkami, a właściwie głównie ich obróbkami, które zaczynają mnie wkręcać bardziej niż rysowanie (może dlatego, że brakuje mi cierpliwych modeli). Można tak obrobić zdjęcie, że wygląda jak rysunek. Na pewno zabiera mniej czasu. Podobnie jak mailowe komunikowanie się. Wszystko idzie w kierunku pójścia na łatwiznę. Nie podoba mi się to. A w partnerstwie... Pewnie nie mam prawa krytykować i oceniać, bo w tych sprawach nikt nie jest na tyle mądry/ poinformowany/ doświadczony. ALE wyprowadza mnie z równowagi, kiedy widzę jak X wykorzystuje Y będąc z tą osobą, jak nawzajem się oszukują, jak X jest z Y, bo boi się zaryzykować, odnaleźć swoje szczęście i jest z nim/ nią z czystego przyzwyczajenia. Ktoś powiedział w audycji radiowej, że my dwudziestolatkowie, należymy do ery komputera, co objawia się tym, że nie potrafimy czekać, musimy mieć wszystko tu i teraz, i tak samo nie potrafimy doceniać. Ja nie potrafię czekać, choć cały czas się uczę. To nie jest łatwe w erze komputera, wszelkich udogodnień i leniwych nie gotowych na wyrzeczenia egoistów. Być może zbytnio generalizuję. Po prostu tęsknię za tym co było kiedyś. Więzi były zdecydowanie mocniejsze. Chyba nie nadążam za tym, co się dzieje dzisiaj. I mam nadzieję, że nie będę. Spotykam osoby, nawet wśród swoich znajomych ,prawdziwie zakochane, szczęśliwe, i oni przekonują mnie, że może być pięknie. Czyli prawdziwość i szczere intencje jeszcze nie wymarły. Podobnie jak rysownicy z krwi i kości ślęczący godzinami nad rysunkiem... :-)

Nothing Happened

"The art of losing isn't hard to master
Though it may look like disaster"

The only solution that would ease the longing

Is not looking in that direction not prolonging
the pain, Not remembering not mentioning and not mourning
those days, Winter days the first kisses and shy hugs

Hiding in the car to explore more

Talking on the phone for hours short hours
(I wanted to tell you much more)

Speaking about feelings unprecedented not observed before
Until the first losing learning how to deal with it
Actually, it's not so difficult
Just close your eyes and tell yourself you're a stone
You're cold as ice blind and dumb nothing can touch you

Then you feel that hand that caresses your skin
And you can't resist, so temptive
God forgive all my sins those were probably the heaviest
Until the losing number two, three, four, nine, nineteen
I can't remember properly I feel like I lost the faith of a youngster

I'm older now I don't believe you now I got hurt

I lost your smell the sound of your voice your smile
your lips your eyes your touch

It wasn't difficult at all
Thank God, it's not difficult to deal with

I'm not looking in that direction, that's why
I'm not mentioning dreaming or inviting you into my dreams

(They miss you I won't tell you how much)
But here's the world of losing, that's how we call it

And I'm perfect at it, seems I left all my heart there

Shapeless, colorless my heart
But I'm OK now since I don't provoke those thoughts
That visit my dreams every night (almost)
Losing is not so hard to do, though it may look like a process
First misunderstanding, blaming each other and silence
And then the easiest thing ever
Dealing with it, lonely nights cloudy days
God, help me survive

(this one was written by me a couple of months ago and I guess it's no longer up-to-date as for my feelings, but I still like it; the poem was influenced partly by modern American poetry and my own love experiences (or traumas, as you like))

Hope and Pray

"When you pray, what do you pray for?
I pray for God to crush me, break me up into little pieces and start all over again."

("Angels in America" T. Kushner)

God, thank you for the passing day another lesson learnt,
Thank you for the journeys that I've made today,
Thank you for the joys, getting good grade from that linguistics test I was really stressed you know,
encountering my old friend on the way to work, finding a fantastic song on the web,
Thank you for all today's let-downs, they will teach me to be humble and patient, they will let me enjoy the future victory

God, I'm sorry for all the bad things I've done today,
I'm sorry for having been lazy and malevolent, not having done my responsibilities,
I'm sorry for insulting others in my mind and for obscene thoughts,
I'm sorry for being faithless sometimes

God, please, give me another joyful day with its challenges,
Please, give health to my nearest and dearest and eternal life for the dead,
Please, give me strength for the next day and patience and serenity,
Please, give me good sight to see and understand and appreciate everything you bring to me.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be Thy name,
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done on Earth
as it is in heaven,
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those
who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.

Peor

mi alma esta tan sucia
que no puedo ver nada mas

los payasos se estan reyendo de mi
y el mundo no va a ser mejor

mi alma esta tan sucia
que no puedo encontrar las palabras para escribir lo que siento

los payasos se fueron
estoy sola tan sola y triste tan patetica que no lo soporto mas

mi alma esta tan sucia
que no puedo oir nada

una vez los payasos me dijeron
no queria escuchar, ahora no recuerdo nada

abrazame

Nocturnal Confessions of an Owl

Almost 4 a.m. Can't sleep. Unwanted thoughts pass through my mind.


Darkness is the light for my thoughts. It is but the darkness of the night that hides the unnecessary and brings in or invites the essential or unprecedented.

At night we can usually hear but silence. And it is silence that helps you hear what you can't hear normally, in the daytime. So far I've heard loads of sounds and whispers. The thing is I need to sort them out now. It WILL take time, certainly.


"I know the world of dreams exists, I'll show you where, just touch my lips"
"... the wind of hope will wake you up"

Are dreams necessary? Some say that without them we cannot make progress. But sometimes it happens that you hope for too much, or you blind yourself with your dreams and plans and forget action.

The Sweetest Poem Ever

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

(William Carlos Williams, "This Is Just To Say")

A poem that is so simplistic that might be mistaken with an ordinary note left on a fridge and filled with sensuality and senses like touch and taste so much that can be definitely called more than a note. It could be a note for a wife or to a loved-one, the author admits to having eaten plums intended for someone's breakfast and begs for understanding. Expressed in a nice gentle way, the poem can be said to be both serious and good-humoured, loving and sarcastic. Being so simple and straightforward, the poem probably does not intend to express more than the information of eating the plums and explaining his behaviour (mind you, it is his, not her, typical for men, isn't it? ;P) and full stop, without too much wondering and pondering over the words. But, on the other hand..... :) it can symbolize the first sin of a man in the garden, eating the fruit from the restricted tree, typical for humans in general - not being able to resist the temptation. And if I were curious enough to go deeper, I could penetrate the poem with further interpretations. For instance, could the "plums" be the girl's virginity that she had been keeping in her "icebox" and "saving them" till the day that he eventually took it? At least he said that it was worth it... Whatever the interpretation, receiving such a note or poem from a boyfriend and finding it on the door of the fridge would put a smile on a girl's face, certainly.