It Is

a woman walks down the street
she smells of cigarettes and perfume from yesterdays events
she doesn’t know why she’s walking in this part of town

she hasn’t walked far
before she understands that the road she follows
is a crossroad and she needs to decide where to turn

right at this moment a man appears next to her

they look at eachother briefly in silence

she tilts her head towards his face to ask
for direction to a shop she thinks is around the corner

the man answers saying he knows where that shop is
they walk together for a while

he says: “do you fancy a coffee?”

she doesn’t drink coffee, but doesn’t mind the walk
she looks at him for exactly one minute
before she says: “that will be nice, I didn’t make any plans for this afternoon”
they walk together for a while
until they get to a nearby café where the man orders tea and cake

this is where they meet for the first time

this is not the full story

Paris

Je Ne Regrette Rien

The House Rules

Don’ts
Do not leave permanent marks or stains on walls, tables or anywhere else for that matter
Do not steal valuable items carefully placed around on shelf and other solid units
Do not disturb the order of things

Do’s
Drink and smoke every thing that is available in the house
Try to sleep, but if you can’t do whatever your heart desires as long as it's quite
Play music because that’s what we like to do
Talk less, say more

John Baldessari: Pure Beauty

Pointy Nose.

The Beat Of Your Heart Is the Rhythm Of Your Soul

I wanna live life and never be cruel.
I wanna live life and be good to you.

And I wanna fly and never come down.
And live my life and have friends around.

We never change, do we? no, no
We never learn, do we?

So I wanna live in a wooden house.

I wanna live life and always be true.
I wanna live life and be good to you.

And I wanna fly and never come down.
And live my life and have friends around.

We never change, do we? No, no
We never learn, do we?

So I wanna live in a wooden house,
where making more friends would be easy.

Oh, and I don´t have a soul to save.
Yes, and I sin every single day.

We never change, do we?
We never learn, do we?

So I wanna live in a wooden house,
Where making more friends would be easy.
I wanna live where the sun comes out ...

Man Of Steel

A revolution is not a bed of roses. A revolution is a struggle between the future and the past.

Refined

Water

Dry

My dearest Brian, A guy like me looks in the mirror, he either grins, or he starts to fade away. And I haven't seen anything to grin about in a long time. This may not be the most graceful exit, but I know when the bottle's empty. The only thing I'm really going to miss is the conversations we had. At least I get the last word, even if I had to mail it in. Coughlin's Law: Bury the dead. They stink up the joint. As for the rest of Coughlin's Laws, ignore them. The guy was always full of shit.

Moody Blue

Can it be that I like it? Show me the edge.

Housekeeping

Crashcourse.

Broken Blood

My eyes want to see more than there is only because I allow them to.

Dialogue

City Life

I came from fuckin' poland
and tried to find some money in the west
i chose this fuckin' city
because i thought it could be the best
to break my misery
to drink one drop of happiness
with my rock'n'roll heart
you know i was a special guest

oh dirty streets
oh dirty, dirty streets of london
red buses in the rain
oh dirty streets of pain

i spend some time in subways
and then i found some fuckin' pub
some drunken guys were singing
the old sad song about the thing called love
i was looking for you babe
where city lights are shining bright
oh, babe i saw you there
where a dirty river gently cries

oh dirty streets
oh dirty, dirty streets of london
red buses in the rain
oh dirty streets of pain

i wake up in the morning
and walked along the crowded streets
where a thousands of people sailed
between the cars in the midday heat
i love this fucking city
where neon lights could make you rest
i come from fuckin' poland
to find some money in the west

oh dirty streets
oh dirty, dirty streets of london
red buses in the rain
oh dirty streets of pain

Attitude

not much detail needed
to see the world
my shining
the beauty
I erase blurriness that overshadows
vision

you listen closely
pay attention
I am Jupiter, Mars, the rest of the planets
rotate freely around my orion

the rising

choice
might not be enough
to hold
back
what you’ve extracted

what?

did you ever think
that seeing one thing
makes you see other things
less

less for now is
enough

shift
might
make you smaller than a fragment in time

strengths are
decisions you make
not influenced
by others

What's On The Menu

dialoging away
you like to speak your mind
the structure of the word game consists of more
an image of a slightly less flattering directory appears before my eyes
I lay still
did I thank you enough for your honesty?

I lay still again as
walls fall down on my head castles break up when I least expect it
they wont get far as they’re stuck to the bottom of the lid
my only container where I needed to be more vigilant than relaxed
where the tiny words
became smaller and smaller

where I realised the shorter the distance the harder the run

Just Because We Can....

And You don't even know it!

Salt

na poczatku byl horyzont poczatku
nic innego nie wisialo nad nami
nie liczylismy
zmartwien ktore nas nie zlaczyly

nie bylo zadnej nierownosci
gdzie szeroki usmiech rozwial
zagluszajace obawy niewystarczalnosci
dni ktorych nieznalismy

z uniosionymi ramionami nosem zadartym wysko ponad linje bezpieczenstwa
wierzylismy w jutro
upadek byl abstrakcyjnym obrazem z bogatej kolekcji dziel Caldera
w ktorym odbiciu widzielsmy tylko kolory snow

zima uswiadomila nam
istnienie mrozu
gorski wiatr podmuchiwal niepokojem w twarz
uparci na wyzwanie szlismy utartym szlakiem bohaterow

juz wtedy zaczelo sie zbierac fakty
ze nie wszystko ulozy sie na 100%
a sciany naszych systemow moga nie wytrzymac
sila
bedzie sila kazdego z osobna

a kto ukladal piramidy marzen w pospiechu?

czy tak trudno dostrzec ze poczatek i koniec sa bliskie sobie?
od nas zalezy nastepny krok

my eyes bleed
I seem to have bonded with my PC
as we try to solve these
burning matters
poisonous occurrences need to be targeted efficiently
you say

I swell up into my balloon of awkwardness
to hear the bells humming while you prepare
an unrehearsed account
I shake my head into pinching fits
silently agreeing on sinful mannerisms
melodramatic hints of fear
that creep from underneath
my fingertips

we were baking truffles with chocolate drizzle
the galaxy was the limit
look who’s gathering dust on the shelf in annoyance?
there’s nothing physical about keeping the bond
repeatedly arranging personal data into the same plot
land
mine

your hand tweeks undecided
twitched blocks of hard covers
stitched into labeles you passed through
over a blank peace of paper
you still need to write down
what you came here for
at least once a week
where you needed to make that comparison
while I assumed my right to
answer questions before they were asked

everyday makes a fresh start

Fairytale

anything dangerous I’m in it
no fussing no fumbling
no spilling
surprises are like paperclips
who would be afraid
I’m safe
I’m here cut me open
look inside my trust
if you can find it

now it’s clear
what was said?
now it’s here
the arrival that occurred
does it count?

did you wake up with fear?
sprayed upon your eyelids
this is not being lost
cross-armed I speak loudly as if there was a crowd of
foreigners listening to my speech
where in my room

it doesn’t take much for me to raise my eyebrow
peculiarities have become an obsession
like a child I observe the ground where the shadows
of human bodies move in various directions
pulling and pushing
will they matter if we talk?
I’ll understand more
to arrive less hidden

phobias exist to be confronted

we can still be friends

Wind Whistles

travel further where
you nolonger
have to
escape noise

beeps howls tags
drawn in the air
whistles trumpets shadows
I am happy here

on the surface
watching one after the other
throw their fist up
each fighting their tiny battle.

Is silence a requirement for sanity?
Or just an illusion of eternity?

noone needs to leave their mark
silence
remains

Lessons We Learn

no previous experience required
a lot more taken
my life
Yours
And a few others

Who forgot?
Who kept loosing patience?

something unbreakable
ended abruptly

or perhaps it was already dead long before?

one day
I booked my flight

Was that cynical?

I wasn’t born evil
no offence

I should have been better
at talking
it through
letting things slide
into the unknown
I should have learnt how not to
name
things
for what they are

sometimes there’s just not enough
stones

one of these days
one of these stones

In Favour Of Rituals

someone sitting on someone’s head
eating someone’s leftovers
unknowingly twisting their head to jerk off someone’s reality
a melting pot of cultural infidelity
trust no one says Big Brother
take what comes your way
before someone beats you

believe it or not
we prefer not to belong
levitating from one house party to the other in hope of encountering
enlightment
you’d have to walk for miles to find your own place
you might loose your breath
you might never get there

I am no preacher of black death
No butterfly pinned down brutally to the wall
Yet I wisp my heavy wings
Before

belonging
appears as an undefined mechanism
an invisible boundary between being and being further
from what may or should be of importance
who has guts to decide?
to swim against the tide of socalled fulfilment
there’s always rights and a wrongs
you know that

changes prevent things to stay the same


what you see now
can play a key
role
in your future

Joy Means to An End

pluralism
your worst nightmare
makes noise instead of
preventing a mechanical galloping of
unintentional thoughts to come to an end
you’ve been sheltered from facing reality
a chance to look it up
will you give in to an uncertain status quo?

here is where no birdsong can enter
we’ve understood that much
plaster every biting breath of inadequacy
life’s puzzles fall down on a white sheet
a blank page of the unknown
like an alluring sensation
who has allowed sands to shift from underneath
a well-knit garment
who needs to talk sense?

no one
needs limits to become significant
even if omitting them takes a lifetime
even if blindness leads us nowhere
perhaps you are made to sacrifice more for less
what will remain?

I cannot see anything beyond
greed
and the only ambition that has led you here
has already died

no one excels in stopping

I scratch my head as I walk across to the nearest coffee shop
to drink my daily portion of delusion
another creamy cup of burnt espresso
where it once came from the ground
Trafalgar Square is steaming with welcoming crowds like always
Covent Garden bursts packed with tourists
It’s hard to squeeze through one solid thought
life never seems to stop here
it is a messy landscape
but it is closer to me than anything else I have ever seen

you seem to dwell a long hour or two
regarding questions of existence as slightly off-putting
everyone deserves their chance
what will be the future?
only the most predictable can tell

Petty Things

wither away in small talk
leaving bigger marks on a sun-kissed
marbled
lifecycle
of my infant bearing
every whisper
counts for more

silence could be here
instead the hearing is second to none
who wishes to be low key again?

ready opened folders with random reprimands from the past
I’ve been told to keep them away
there’s trust in the air
grab it
no need to manoeuvre them into
dead end roads

why start
comparing
the incomparable

black mud leaks from underneath my toes
rustles into insectual pursuits
tender sniffling
seizes to excite my trailed ground
fugitive horizons
risen sensations
such disharmony
can make one
see more by the hour

it’s only about numbers
delusions squirt like seasonal referrals
big eats
sliding doors
getting to the bottom of carelessly loose words
swung into the undefined atmosphere
rich tea pitfalls into concealed concrete
this starchy substance of lucidness
bell ring
hollow alarm

buckled
set