Tuesday, May 1, 2018




Whatever you wanted to give to the world today - I do not listen.
walk in the meadows, screaming quail, our laugh
bouncing from the grass. floating over the ground lilacs, but well
it is May - for the delay does not intend to apologize.
and chick on the footpath, with a belly sized as egg, (as his
twin brother has not hatch yet) dead by the time
I moved them on the lawn. touch activated touch. bald
wings fluttered, shaking head and thought: kill
or let to die? on the way home the banner advertising
a milk dessert: you can be, whoever you want.


We need to step away a little from each other.
took a breath, extend lungs with
ice. common nights, meals, enemies
and disputes – too often on the one meter
square. shy fox sees destiny
in the foxhole. I'm looking for myself in you, yourself in us,
myself not in us, I put the blindfold on eyes,
when say: plenitude. confirmation
is hidden deeper, beneath the cover of smoke and soot.
to walk lonely through a tunnel of dark thoughts
and deeds, discover white in a black, in white
colourful, colourful combine into light.
we must step away a little from each - as
the law of love proclaims.


Insatiability is the origin of bitterness and sadness,
the amplitude of emotions. willow-green on the wall,
rearranged furniture or a new dress
with a lotus flower in full bloom is not enough,
to bring the change. I'm an addict who is
forever seeking to meet the acceptance
of others. pats on the back and congratulatory scrolls.
if I were a cloud, I would think like a cloud –
would see a diamond like a stone, a books like
paper, people like the right to decide about each other. but I am
human, and I act as told to me to behave,
since I have worn the skin.


Alliance with the clock long time ago expired.
littering the moment. because what I saw in the mirror
crooked only in the name. several years of rich
in dilution, paramours and lovers pulling to
the wilderness, daydreams. and maybe even a fridge
with internal light broken. everything weighs less
than a pinch of dust. less carry aways. but I
still a moment, that could become a gateway.


Between the world and us - its description.
stone wall not to wade, precipice. I believe t
hat people by nature are sleek. sediment
a cheap card trick, protection against pain.
that’s why it's so rare nowadays to love others.
dreams are safer. garlands, Alpine views, tattoos
- scatter derivatives. between world and a replica
of stubble. extensive. possible to overcome.
for those who went over the margin.



AGNIESZKA WIKTOROWSKA-CHMIELEWSKA – poet, playwright, editor, finished Literary and Art postgraduate studies held in the department of Polish studies at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow. The author of Poemik “and here, and here” awarded in the competition organised by the City of Krakow on a book poetic's debut in 2014. The book was also nominated to the Golden Point of Poetry Prize in 2015. And author “Szczęściodoły”  and “Troika”. Published in collective works, as well as in literary magazines like: Lamelii, Kozirynek, Migotania, Nowa Okolica Poetów, Tygiel Kultury, sZAFa, Wyspa, Inter, Kwartalnik Artystyczny, Cegła, Gazeta Kulturalna, ArtPapier, Dialog, Afront, Gazeta Bieszczadzka, FUSS, Helikopter, bregArt and others. She writes radio-plays, songs and arts for children. Audio books which she is author (14 episodes) "The history of children" are available on www.historiadladzieci.pl.

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