Last poet’s Last supper

Last poet’s Last supper

I’m hungry

I’m thirsty

I’m in need

Down dirty

And stinking

Says Last poet

Hungrig gLodny j’fein

Last Supper

Is my Last chance

To have a rest

And then go away

With wandering stars

O La La a La La oh oh o La La O

 

Last poet

Confused and baffLed

Viewed his Last fuLL-stops

ALongside commas

FLaw to unknown Lands

I’LL take off Later

He says

Though ”Later” lurks

Around the corner

He feels too tired

As to share a meal

To take a shower

Or a fancy coffee

Worth  his last penny

Last gamble

To depart

Means if won I’LL see

Some of my  old friends

I’LL have a hair-cut

To look good to look fine

My baby’s nuts with me

 

 [last poet looks at the wall]

 [last poet looks at the wall]

Last poet looks at

 BLACK WALL

in his living-room

 

BLACK CACKLES

and THREATS

are heard from behind

Last poet

wishes to defeat them

using his white pen

 

BLACK WALL

gently smiles

to please him

Some café NOIR

and sugar

Last poet

is in doubts

BLACK WALL

could delete

all his dreams

his hair could be

BLACK

only to mark him

closed in confinement

doma

zu Hause

at home

 

BLACK WALL

shall keep

 BLACK HOPE

for the last poet

carelessly  scribbled

from the top right

to the top left

from dizzy header

To insane footer

 

BLACKNESS

is his shadow-line

it’ll never let his

heart become unclear

 

BLACK WALL

is to embrace him

together they’ll take

action for the change

and have fun

and cook up

something cool

 “May the Force be with you”

poets

 

last poet is an endangered species

last poet is an endangered species

to Prof. Stanisław Jaworski

last poet

converses with his peers

the Canary  and the Parrot

all closed in the cage

they are skilled editors

he meditates

over their long-lasting friendship

Poetry is Poetry

ad majorem gloriam

that is the warning

he shall remember for ever

last poet

says my every-day meals are large and nourishing

so no need to care about the lineage

last poet

is well protected now

as about forty guards

assure he is safe and sound

like a priceless vestige

short days short nights short years

are his repetitive routines

to accomplish daily targets of his poetical job

including some pauses for regeneration of the brain

his call to arms needs suitable rhythm

and the stress on the last syllables must be distinctly heard

the pride of the country

he is to render in even iambuses

the level of enthusiasm

should be completed

so that young combatants

breathe their last breath with delight

last poet

dreams of his last verses

as free of the yoke of his prestigious service

he hopes to experience the joy itself

somewhere over faraway galaxies

he is to experience new language

and unexplored motifs

which are still invisible for him

it’s time to put the last full-stop – he says –

and shortly to depart

last poet

is not allowed to board the spacecraft

the security agents will teach him the lesson

lives of the endangered species is priceless

they patiently explain him

his distress and irritation

mean nothing

for future generations

they need benefits from his rhymed puzzles

and reading with joy and happiness

last poet

looks at the Nevada desert

it is his last

poem

 

 

last poet committed crime

last poet committed crime

last poet

you have been found guilty

of your clear disregard

to the mission of poetic beauty

you said

poetry is unable to save peoples

from their inclination to kill

and it does not keep us alive

even by courting the form

showing respect to our Master

certainly you combat our enemies

in line with all received commands

your tricks seem OK

you have been devoted to remind the world

about all harms our country suffered

all renegades

and the betrayal at the dawn

which Court considered

mitigating factors

 

last poet

follow your Masters’ manifestos

so stand up and fight

before the Unknown Tribunal

Tax Office

or Ms Secretary

file your poem in the Verses Registration Agency

even though you feel disgraced

it is natural reaction to injustice

never give up

your grey hair shall never be a serious excuse

please set up your Facebook profile

then click humbly a dark character

and next the red one

mind the white to avoid any faults

your instinct shall instruct you

how to specifically care

for margins settings

and that’s all

 

you shall be whipped by your nature

last poet

 

 

L-A-st Poet Condemned His Writings

L-A-st Poet Condemned His Writings

L-A-st Poet

Does not re-A-d nor t-A-lks to A-nyone

A-s if the Del key bec-A-me his life

A-nd effective medic-A-tion A-gainst

The cruelty of the world

Now L-A-st Poet cl-A-ims

Re-A-ding is a re-A-l dis-A-ster

Initi-A-lly it used to bring him d-A-mn joy

The first phr-A-se seems A-s  born tod-A-y

In the A-BC textbook

A-l-a h-A-s a c-A-t

My entire life st-A-rted there

A-nd my beliefs

I sh-A-ll pl-A-y A-g-A-inst A-l-a

Then boys A-g-A-inst girls

On school pl-A-yground

He w-A-s sure then

The world is good A-nd should be

A-nd his poems be terrific

Re-A-ching the he-A-ven’s beA-uties

To a-b-A-ndon the bonds of m-A-rgins

A-nd a w-A-y out to hide A-l-a in the whe-A-t field

Only to axe his love

I sh-A-ll pull out the stone

From D-A-vid-s eye

He s-A-ys jotting down his p-A-st memories

I didn’t give up there in the p-A-rk fighting

I remember my bitter coming home

A-s vivid as if h-A-ppening tod-A-y

Se-A-rching bright and long phr-A-ses

A-nd some nourishing A-ir for curved letters

So as to produce life to A-l-a’s friends

A-fterw-A-rds L-A-st Poet resolved to kill his p-A-ges

A-nd to w-A-tch poisonous cl-A-ssic’s books burning

In defence of l-A-st Don Quijotes

 

Last Poet Invokes His Ancestors

Last Poet Invokes His Ancestors

Last Poet looks at

Chrysanthemums

Silence of the grave-yard

Life of his absent friends

Sure

All of them shall be cleansed

By dark insults and hate

Last Poet

Seeks advice from his forefathers

In the dust of closed book covers

Time is dried for ever

Ancient parchment

Is speechless in the bonds

And reading

White eagle means dignity

Or insane mind

Last Poet deep in his thoughts

Ponders on which is true

Then he looks up the appropriate page

Paragraph and sentence

There coats of arms and inscriptions

Looking like autumn yellow

And some old birth certificates

Remind him of eternal

Foes of his nation

Though unknown and forgotten

Hopefully he could sing again and again

Not to abandon his mission

To kill

To betray

To leave behind his past

Its high time he said farewell

To his books

 Then listen to breaking news

And make an offering to his parents

Of that night

Last Poet

Has a sandwich and eggs for breakfast

Some dark coffee making his stomach ache

And only then he leaves to agora

Why

 

Desire to Love

Mirosław Rogala

Desire to Love

 

To Lidzia

If our roots conjugate grammar cases,

To become joyous verbs,

if greenery, suddenly awaken,

is deeply rooted in your affection,

and if you could even imagine

the green, so intensely living their lives,

and, yes, brown little leaf,

telling fortune from your palm,

if your eyes silently wander

among cosy objects, and things,

and roots, and greenery,

which you had never seen,

you still may see your life,

your loneliness, and symbolism of light,

shadow,  thriving for you!

 

February 14, 2002

Transl. By Marek Oktawian Bulanowski

 

HYMN FUNERALNY DLA PREZYDENTA LINCOLNA

WALT WHITMAN

ŹDŹBŁA TRAWY (LEAVES OF GRASS)

HYMN FUNERALNY DLA PREZYDENTA LINCOLNA

1.

Gdy ostatnie lilie kwitły w ogrodzie,

A wielka gwiazda zbyt wcześnie zniknęła nocą z zachodniego firmamentu,

Płakałem, … i będę opłakiwał każdą powracającą wiosną.

 

O, wiecznie powracająca wiosno! Po wielokroć pewny,

Co mi przyniesiesz;

Wiecznie kwitnące lilie oraz spadająca gwiazda na zachodzie,

I myśl o nim, jak go kocham.

 

Tłum. Marek Oktawian Bulanowski