Tag: contemplation

Trivia

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Somewhere between sustenance
and boredom prevention,
those afflicted with life
must maintain extreme caution
when nurturing trivia,
since there is much at stake
between cellulite treatment
and a game of rummy or table tennis,

yet caught in a coat of my body—
an intentionally uncomfortable
occasional source of agitation—
I could always become sentimental,
which is rather frightening,
though not as much
as questionable considerations
in a world of adjectives
and noughts insisting on writing a memoir
or at least falling in love
while playing youth
despite knowing that I am
just an old man with prejudices,
and only if I get the spelling right.

But all I can do is to be incompetent
so as to preserve the character’s consistency.

If only I knew how to play the piano—
it would make it a hell of a lot easier
to annoy the neighbours.

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

Disjuncts

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I have no particular thoughts
on logic, which is logical
since I’m not a scholar—not a smidgen
of salonnière upbringing either—
yet the wainscot brothel in my study
lacks no Montague, or Boole, or Frege.
Ultimately, I could only devote myself
to discovering how many gods died
in a demitasse of mocha.

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

Confession

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There is none but one certainty,
expressed by the simple ‘I am’—
everything else, like the nine extra floors,
contemplated with that achromatic I of mine,
is a possibility; though if I pretended
to be anything but a curmudgeon on a rainy day,
delighted that the gentle patter of raindrops
on the leaves of the tree outside my window
replaced the song of Malebolge rising
from the school yard across the street at lunch,
I would be lying.

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

Homo humanus

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With the abundance of days,
a true existence is never far
for an honest person—

only twenty years away
or a page

if you’re lucky.

But as a piano teacher is not a pianist—
let alone a composer,
especially if their instrument,
crammed into the corner of the room,
is reduced to a mere flowerpot stand—

a man is only as humane.

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

Sunday

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I like the sun in full bloom
to have a cloud cover
with only occasional breaks,
as it is less intimidating that way—
at least on Sundays.

I probably should have gone
to the beach
like I used to,
but I spent the late morning in an armchair
by the window,
reading
and snacking on almonds instead,
and now I’m playing
with a word processor.

Why is it that I’d rather write a verse
than live it?

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

There is still something

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From the shaded seclusion of a park bench, I pondered the wind’s indifference to flannels running between the wickets, almost equal to the blasé of the strollers sauntering along the paths around the lawn. This nonchalance stayed with me on the way back home, when I briefly kept up with the kayaking foursomes training on the Dee while listening to the song of wrens as they tried to be heard over the traffic. I guess, even if the nature of love has been hidden from me, there is still something to fill the void.

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

The last meal

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Abandoned in no man’s land
between the living room and the kitchenette,
I read ‘Portrait of a Lady’ aloud
to the mealy-mouthed hum
of the microwave heating fish
and vegetables for my solitary dinner,
only to realise that it no longer mattered much
who I was before breakfast if no one was there
to tell me how to get through the supper.

Peeping at my neighbours

Published on by Maciej Modzelewski2 Comments

In the comfort of our solitude,
there are no history books,
only diaries,
with no one to satisfy,
no difference to make,

so perhaps I should contract
some fashionable disease
as an excuse to stay in my room
and spend the remaining time
peeping at the next-door neighbours
from behind the curtain—
a family of magpies
going about their business.

After all, I’m mortal, like them,
and that’s the only hope.