The Introivert

The Introvert

Emptyness sealed
Devil plays his dysharmony
Running among the ruins
As I am a king
Of things unseen
Forgotten and unknown
Such a nice way to describe
The drama of dreams
Of existence turned
To it's own core

With a hope of
Transformational power
As I can give and take
Only to myself
Unseen, forgotten and unknown
Absurdal agonist
Screaming no longer

A horse
A crafstman
(...)

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The Introvert

The Introvert

Emptyness sealed
Devil plays his dysharmony
Running among the ruins
As I am a king
Of things unseen
Forgotten and unknown
Such a nice way to describe
The drama of dreams
Of existence turned
To it's own core

With a hope of
Transformational power
As I can give and take
Only to myself
Unseen, forgotten and unknown
Absurdal agonist
Screaming no longer

A horse
A crafstman
(...)

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The Coldest Beauty (ENG)

Some say we are rather in Heaven
And only the song reminds that it is endless
Then it looks like to live is to tempt
It is a letter or a book somehow

For someone it reminds of a wound
Not by the matter of disdain towards what there is
For it is just fallen and hurt
There is a wound inside the existence itself

For someone it reminds of the worlds seen
As they travel the more they tempt
As they get crazy they wish to live so long
Just to intensify the longing

The Coldest Beauty

Some say we are rather in Heaven
And only the song reminds that it is endless
Then it looks like to live is to tempt
It is a letter or a book somehow

For someone it reminds of a wound
Not by the matter of disdain towards what there is
For it is just fallen and hurt
There is a wound inside the existence itself

For someone it reminds of the worlds seen
As they travel the more they tempt
As they get crazy they wish to live so long
Just to intensify the longing

Two poems

1. Carnal Dream

(Music arrangement on souncloud.com / A.pietras982 - VII - F 4 - Carnal Dream)


I: I've came to the lowest of grounds
Just to tempt
Although words should be sharp
Athough I wondered how to express
There is but an emptyness inside
A body that is dwelled by a thought
Challengeing all that is to challenge
With no sence of deeper reason
In this formula I mean
I've seen many worlds and became empty

II: A letter has got a shape
Perhaps some meaning I have forgotten
But so far as I can't recognize my voice
And see only the easiest way to satisfy
To focus on something that is not the pain inside
But perhaps it is good - how can I know
Some say that there is only light
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Three poems

---Living inside a Master-Piece


Nothing to say living inside a Master-Piece.
As I've been younger - I searched for existential police.

All is left to overlook and to smile
Some challenge zen for a while.

Angelic women believe in something - that's so far from my mind
Although I've become an indifferent kind.

For me? Precisely everything - can be so very nice
As I get my whiskey with ice.

I don't mean there is something too bad
It just looks as I am - of rather ironic clad.


---Regret


There is a little bit of hate in my wound.
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With no Craft

Empty sadness as I laid
Though someone - needed me to stay;
And I used to comtemplate this subject:
With no Craft - I found myself an object.

So deeply pleased - as the Other enjoyed my fruits
So I stood up and worn my boots -
Let's take a mile or seven
Follow me - we'll go to Heaven...

Regret

There is a little bit of hate in my wound.
Nobody knows how those muddy things

Come inside;

A spark from far away dives into the World
Though it's hard to love one's own dirt.

Living inside a Master-Piece

Nothing to say living inside a Master-Piece.
As I've been younger - I searched for existential police.

All is left to overlook and to smile
Some challenge zen for a while.

Angelic women believe in something - that's so far from my mind
Although I've become an indifferent kind.

For me? Precisely everything - can be so very nice
As I get my whiskey with ice.

I don't mean there is something too bad
It just looks as I am - of rather ironic clad.

Z któregoś z etapów

A. Hollow Songs



VII. L.


Umysł faluje a ciało spada. Życie jest dobre. Trawa, zie-
Mia, błoto i światło. Umysł faluje a ciało spada. Koło do-
Mów, na ławeczce, wśród wróbli i gołębi. Życie jest dob-
Re. I pustka, odblask światła w oknie. Ziemska, nasłone-
Czniona pustka. I dymiące kominy. Pustka i trawnik ko-
Loru khaki. Umysł faluje a ciało spada. Życie jest dobre;
Niekiedy spada podczas spaceru.





XII. Barwa



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Mixtape

TEATR DLA ANIOŁÓW*


MOTTO: Pitagorejczysy są w ptaszarni

MOTTO: Właściwym podmiotem wiersza jest styl. (P.P. Pazzolini)


------------------WIERSZE MELANCHOLIJNE CHOĆ JASNE



***

Grają grają grają w piłkę na boisku

Słychać okrzyki i hasła z murawy

To nawet piękne.


II

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