Electric eyes that try and see,
yet you think you know me,
the truth makes you squirm,
yet in credance you will never learn,

It's the essence of your belief,
hollow pots that are full of grief,
tantric words massage your soul,
shouting words from a fathemless hole.

you think you can take it all,
but a trip always precedes a fall,
there's alway something left to sell,
but no more words left to tell.

I am a breath of morning air
In the east side I watch the sunrise over the city
Warm glows wrap their arms around cold dark towers standing too far apart to hold hands
We were once two kids doing the same
Dancing in the dark
Kissing until dawn  
Leaving in the morning
We parted like towers casting shadows over each other
Last night I saw the sun set and beneath the orange umbrella I felt you twitch
You are the flickering yellow glow of street lights
The pain of an 8pm curfew in the dead of summer
The hollow call home of your absent mother
When you wake up and you think of me
I hope you know it’s not the same
It never will be  
I won’t hurt for you now - Not tonight
I’m staying in
Now you make me lock my doors up tight

There is a gravity to
sadness; it pulls me
downward into a
deep dark well.
I can't climb out.
It's my own private hell.
I pray for levitation.
I jump, only to fall.
I feel forgotten.

I put one foot in
front of the other,
and I will rise.
I move on.
Hope returns like
a long lost friend,
and I find my sanctuary.

It's possible to look on the world
through:
the magnifying glasses of wonder
the diminishing glasses of despair
through fingers, through tears
the black-, the blue-, and rose-coloured spectacles
through a keyhole
the piece of glass for observation of sun-eclipse
the barrel of a rifle
and through thousand hollow-glasses
of the Auschwitz-Museum.

by. Henryk Jasiczek translated from the Polish by Adam A. Zych