Category: poetry

Here are my poems in English and Polish.

an old man in a hat writes something in a notebook

Writing epitaphs for a man of tedious little insignificance

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

For the future me

As a creature of symbol, bored with the steady pace of every day life, he craved
gestures and milestones marking the progress of his tedious little insignificance
full of wishes of small importance and efforts that did not matter in the slightest.

After many a year, he learned how to pretend so well that he convinced himself
that he was about to be happy. Maybe another step or two, an extra drop of sweat,
or one more bitter bite to swallow—but felicity was there, or so he told himself.

The irony is that in his futile attempt at scoring big once, he actually missed all
the trifles that ultimately each day is made of.

dentist during tooth drilling

The one who gives a damn

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski2 Comments

My dentist told me that I grind my teeth while sleeping,
and I am not entirely sure if I should be upset or relieved.
I know my endless craving for affection has been tiring
for quite some time now, and if you ask me if I am dead
inside, then I may well be, but that one random remark
could make all the difference. You see, I thought I had
to grit my teeth to keep from giving her the satisfaction.
It turned out that, while she enjoys the Riviera, the one
who gives a damn is the quiet man with a handpiece.

fist of a man trying to kill a fly

Substitute hunting

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

Armed and determined, I prowl the interiors of my humble dwelling.
My weapon? A tightly folded premium kitchen towel. My prey? A fat,
buzzing housefly. But damn if I don’t feel like a real seasoned hunter.
And everything would be just fine if only I knew where the unsettling
sense of misplaced anger came from.

abandoned suitcase on wheels in the middle of the airport

Departures

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

Taking a flight to New York—does that not sound great? Yeah,
but no thanks; I would rather not. Reality never matches a dream
anyway, and it was not even my dream in the first place.
Also, departures at Heathrow Airport, unlike the arrivals gate,
are not all about love, although I am sure Hugh Grant’s voice
would sugar something up if you asked. But if I ever do fly there,
it better be with you. I am sure you will find some room
in your baggage for a pocket book of poetry
and an urn.

pile of school pictures

The despair of a bird of passage

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

If I had died captivated by the empty house of the stare,
where would my feathers have fallen? I remember that,
while calling me names and laughing, the other habitués
of labyrinthine school corridors were just as oblivious.
Forty years later, I barely recognise the nameless faces
staring back at me from the old photographs, but I know
that sedentary birds hold on just as desperately.

Narcissistic cupid with a mirror

The perfect lovers

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski1 Comment

This has always been going to be a beautiful day.
After all, it gets off to a good start as we wake up
early in the morning with a cheerful disposition,
and despite your obsessing over the pumpkin seeds
I forgot to buy, breakfast is deliciously nutritious.

An uneventful day at work is nice for a change, too.
Then a quick visit to the grocery store to grab dinner.

In the evening, I close the curtains to become a hero
of all the scenes of a sexual nature enacted barefoot
on the odd pages of a yearbook I found in the attic
on the sofa you once exiled from the living room,
although oddly enough, I seem to have some difficulty
finding your pictures there. Fortunately, there is always
a mirror that we bought for our last birthday.