Acoustical• Show poetry

[my] spoken word:
www.myspace.com/acousticalwords

"Rather, I think one should write, as nearly as possible, as if he were the first person on earth and was humbly and sincerly putting on paper that which he saw and experienced and loved and lost; what his passing thoughts were and his sorrows and desires."
-Neal Cassady to Jack Kerouac



“La Pologne? La Pologne? Isn’t it terribly cold there?” she asked,
and then sighed with relief. So many countries have been turning up
lately that the safest thing to talk about is climate.
“Madame,” I want to reply, “my people’s poets do all their
writing in mittens. I don’t mean to imply that they never remove
them; they do, indeed, if the moon is warm enough. In stanzas
composed of raucous whooping, for only such can drown the
windstorms’ constant roar, they glorify the simple lives of our
walrus herders. Our Classicists engrave their odes with inky icicles
on trampled snowdrifts. The rest, our Decadents, bewail their fate
with snowflake instead of tears. He who wishes to drown himself
must have an ax at hand to cut the ice. Oh, madame, dearest
madame.”
That’s what I meant to say. But I’ve forgotten the word for
walrus in French. And I’m not sure of icicle and ax.
“La Pologne? La Pologne? Isn’t it terribly cold there?”
“Pas du tout,” I answer icily.

-"Vocabulary",Wislawa Szymborska

I love the polish. they are brilliant.








.............
Like the ocean
Like the skies
Like oblivion
Like your eyes
.............