DARIUSZ BERESKI

DARIUSZ BERESKI

IMMORALE ART

and yet dead silence

sometimes modest moans

of withered leaves

rotten park bench

grows hot roots

into the soil

exposed to nature

to acts begotten

of human reactions

and random impulses

a witness and a participant

of biological acts

simultaneously spiritual

on the bench

with the bench

under the bench

artistic confession

ad populum

transgressing rules

of one's weaknesses

a meeting not With

but Against

a result of delusions

struggles

self sacrifice

apotheosis of blood

of alcohol in the river of tears

transcendence of voices

of the five senses

the smell of chemical reactions

lingers long

after the audience departure

on the bench

with the bench

under the bench

“ Under The Dead Dog “ Bar - a reflection, 29th January 2015 Toruń

VERBO- AVE

words like birds

have their nests everywhere

some of them only sometimes

leave their home domains

some of them settled, hoot dully

uncertain of their local roamings

Autumn they change the shades of meanings

Winter chased away by storms of metaphors

they hide themselves on frosty cliffs

to arrange themselves in a brief poem...

words, similar to birds

bear yet unfledged thoughts

sometimes they merely roost

nest in early Spring

like birds of passage

they stay only for a while

others glide in allegories

all forage all year long

in the fields sown with meanings...

XIV International Unesco Poetry Day

2nd April 2014, Warsaw

GARDEROBE

when I touch

the stage space of coherence

of voice and body

of movement and stillness

of the logic of a scream

of silence and a whisper

subconsciously I discover

the truth of emotions

of my acts...

the smallest untruth

of physical reactions

brings out the immense untruth

of the range of my emotions

of my thoughts

of my imagination...

In life I miss

the realization of

the logic of events

the stage opens

this space for me

the limited stage time

activates alertness

concentration and perception...

to animate the inanimate

to be able to listen

to pass on

one's visions

without visions in my art

I am as

a cut flower...

Musical Theatre, Torun 28 January 2015

THE WILD HEART OF PACIFIC  NEAR A DREAM

on our island

pearl stones dance

lonely

as we

on the night as clear

as Your eyes

on a sleepless night

a spring night...

the archipelago of friendly heights

gazes in Your direction

to give You

the atolls of coral

and the virgin

turquoise lagoons

on a sleepless night

a spring night...

rainforests

under the canopy

of silver clouds

cool Your hands

moisten your lips

with eternal greenery

smooth your glance

with the arms of lianas

mark their presence

on a sleepless night

a spring night...

for You I create

the archipelago of islands

I sow the forests

I call the birds

with a fragile whisper

I turn into

the Polynesian

God Tangaloe

I talk to the wind

near a dream...

on a sleepless night

a spring night...

27th May 2014, Torun

DARIUSZ BERESKI