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Anonymouse Apr 2013
Inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem Where I am From

I am from cul-de-sacs
From skinned knees and seven speed bikes
I am from the bewitching perfume of the osmanthus bloom mingling with freshly mown grass
I am from the familiar music of the bubbling creek and the cardinals song
the swish of a golf club and the thud of a soccer ball
I am from hot pavement on bare feet, the taste of honeysuckles, and reaching pine tree forests whose invisible trails and clearings became my secret empire

I am from airplanes and home cooking
From Mary and Mark
northern accents and southern hospitality
I am from "use your manners" and "Not enough month left at the end if the money"
I am from sunday school and patent leather shoes that pinch my toes
from a prayer before dinner that is carved into my brain

I am from poland
from poppyseed kuchen and kielbasa
I am from my grandmother forgetting baking soda in the bread
and then... years later, forgetting me too.
I am from my grandfather's sense of humor
and his unwavering stubbornness.
I am from too many cousins to count
from pinched cheeks and "How you've grown!"

I am from piles of unfinished photo albums
brimming with new adventures, frozen faces, and old memories
I am from the path I carved for myself with tools that my parents bestowed upon me.
It's about Kielbasa,
This sausage.

This is the age.

Theres nothing better about a girl,
If she likes...
             Kielbasa.....
Better than fish.....

Cause I mean.

Plunk it in my duts,
Why you rough?
To be so jagged is to be cuffed,
By meat links.
The Good Pussy  Oct 2014
The D
The Good Pussy Oct 2014
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         destruction               junk mail
Walking down the street
to get me a treat
at the hoagie fest
'cause you know they are the best

I saw some kielbasa
with some seilgasa
in a brown dish
and it was better than fish

but they were ignored
like a bored board
because hoagie fest is back
and i brought me a sack
'cause i dont wanna lack
any hoagies in my meat sack

but then i got lost
on my way
and i had to say
that it would cost
the big mayne
like any gayme
under the sea
is where i will be
in an octopusses garden
in the shade
cause pulp is gross
in all gardens
even if it hardens

katana knife blade stromboli
before the wall
came down,
there were lines
12 hours long
for bread and kielbasa;

and nuclear warheads raced
rhetoric east to west,
and back,
and rhetoric won...

I sat on a train
westbound,
idling on the left side
of the border

the 'gestapos' stormed aboard
with their black leather boots
knee-high;
stern angled faces
missing smiles;
eyes of winter
and steel,
unblinking....blue,
sending chills through
and through

'you,' he said
pointing at me

his open fist
flipping the universal
'come here' signal...

60 minutes later
he conceded...
reluctantly...

the 15-year old
black face smiling
in the mug shot
on my passport

was indeed....me

not some ****** student
trying to flee
the misery
behind those curtains

to freedom...

without walls 12-feet high
topped by razor-edged rolls
of barbed wire;

without food lines
12-hours long;

where choice
and opportunity
know no bounds...

~ P (Pablo)
(8/7/2013)
GC Oct 2014
are the walls talking?
it’s the neighbor’s dog across the street
wailing over your ugly unkempt lawn.

is the staircase creaking?
you forgot to take your coffee hot this morning,
get a grip.

is my kielbasa burning?*
you put plastic on the stove.
you put plastic on the ******* stove.
before the wall
came down,
there were  lines
12 hours long
for bread and kielbasa

and nuclear warheads raced
rhetoric east to west,
and back,
and rhetoric won

i sat on a train
westbound,
idling on the left side
of the border

ten 'gestapos' stormed aboard,
black leather boots
knee-high;
stern angled faces
missing smiles;
eyes of winter
and steel,
unblinking - blue,
sending chills through
and through

'you,' he said
pointing at me

open fist
flipping the universal
'come here' sign

60 minutes later
he conceded,
reluctantly

the 15-year old
black face smiling
in the mug shot
on my passport

was indeed - me

not some ****** student
trying to flee
the misery
behind those  iron curtains

to freedom

without walls 12-feet high
topped by razor-edged rolls
of barbed wire;

without food lines
12-hours long;

where choice
and opportunity
know no bounds.

~ P
My Grandmother loves cussing
she loves laughter, and artwork,
she used to be a Nun
and her Catholicism runs as thick and deep as the veins of coal beneath the city.
When the pope was named, she wept for joy
"A progressive! There is still good in the church!"
The dinner she made that night,
Kielbasa, pirogies,
my atheist parents sat by nervously.
My Grandmother cares not for your faith, though
she cares for your soul.
Ellis Reyes May 2017
Annie’s jagged features create an ominous shadow
Known locally as the kielbasa murderer,
She dispatched her victims with wretched exuberance.

She hunted them while they languished in public spaces
Masquerading as an angel of mercy, she offered food and drink,
Warm blankets, and kind, uplifting words.
False hope for those whose sustenance she had poisoned.

When her evil was complete
The dead were gently covered
A small shrine constructed
And a perfumed goodbye note placed nearby.

"Dear Beloved,
I could no longer bear your suffering
This last measure of comfort is given with all of my love
To assist your transition to a higher place.
With Radiant Peace,
Annie"

Annie helped more than 200 souls transition to a higher place
Then she disappeared.
Dead?
Imprisoned?
Or just moved on…

No one knows for sure.
Written with words given to me by students: kielbasa, languish, exuberance, ominous

— The End —