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Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
and you shall be content with stirring up the sentimentalities of the old,
rather than be content in capturing the imagination of the young.*

i only write in my mother tongue when i feel too much
oppression, when it’s not worth being reminiscent
of the years 1772 through to 1939, only then do i use it,
and using it weep. i know of the post-colonial stress disorder in
western societies, it’s effective use in psychiatry
of these societies to curb any ambition of historical reminiscene,
i know of the oppression where man integrating
into these societies is told to relinquish his mother tongue,
i know of these oppressions: and of eastern european "exotica" -
you wouldn’t be fooled to expect tigers and polar bears,
palms date trees and icebergs to be so close to england!
murzynek bambo wita! kopciuszek magda wita!
                                          hanzel und gretyl / bambo i magda!
but did you know poland is the host nation of the european
bison, and the no. 1 tourist destination of storks?
                                                                      oh... polar bears it is.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
nie tak sie przerzegnamy jak bylo dane (w lewo, w prawo, w lewo, w prawo) nie! pierw głowa, potem ręka, wtedy serce, a na końcu: pachwina; jako prawo-ręczny... straciłem ucho na nowoczesny vogue lewicy (w braku komuny)... bo trudo srać, i słuchać tych... bzdur! w swym: powiem co tylko moge... bo i tak angol jest trędowaty, jeżeli chodzi o języki, oprócz jego; a o tym znaczy gromada amerykanców którzy tylko mówia: jak to sie wypowiada?! rub rub rub your hands... startled by the sea of tongues, dislodged from the synchronisity of the tide.

tú stanie moja stopa,
                           i tu nią, powiem
    *hūk
! grzmot!
                                rygor! disciplina!
   aport! aport!
                mniej warty niż pies
                                      gnoju!
  doberman na podwurku
                                   chociaż szczeka
    na widmo, czy też cień!
                         ty, kurwo języczna?
    whine whine whimper...
dawaj chociaz voodoo haiti,
      a ty kurwa skad?
   nigeria? kenja?
     co tam gavari? zulu?
           no to kurwa mów! - - - -
- - - - - large dogs don't really
bark at other dogs
    or people, the ones they
                          can see...
          poodles?
   they're picking the wrong
fight, always have,
                       always will.
        ten "muzynek"
bambo?
     wkradne sie w jego
                                  dupe...
   z metrowym kijem
           bambusa!
    i potem spytam...
           gdzie te widły
chinczyków do żarcia
             z twej mordy?
choppy choppy, shticky shticky?
                 bombai fwy wice?
        dziś? jutro? pojutrze?
   za tydzień, miesiąc?
  rok? sto lat?
              sto lat! sto lat!
      niech niech żyje nam!
ale mie to wkurwia...
    wprost, dzięki bogu że
tego nie mówie...
            bo jak bym miał
o tym gadać... to i tak
bym nie gadał... tylko srał...
czy też bawił sie w
                   rzeźnika...
o hej hej! fri-dom of spicz!

  niech bedzie pochwalony...
na wieki wieków
                     ten zór byka...
      że tak sporo na zachodzie
myśli: słowianin to slav tzn.
niewolnik, albino-bambo...
a tak naprawde to:
       kowalski...
                słowowalski...
                      ­ słowny-kowal,
          kowal dla czteru!
      czterem w oddech ziemi

                       north (conquest)              
    
west (war)                +                   east (death)

                       south (famine)


we mnie cichy lew, i tym bardziej
                  lis, szachista ciszy;

             ale z nich pół-głąby kapusty,
co to za polityka, jeżeli tylko dwu-znaczny
grymas... i tym: niewyparzona morda
"wolności"...  co każdy aktor czy diwa zna?
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
i don't which part of me is more confused than
the other -
  you can sense something being "up"
when you spend a good's worth of a month
in your native land...
  having lived in england from the majority
of my life (20+ years) - i go back to these distant
pasts - these ferus terra of old -
these feral lands - and sit there for about a week,
and become obliterated by the dichotomy -
everyone's white! this homogeneity is bewildering,
it's like walking through a zombie apocalypse:
unharmed...
    as a first generation migrant i didn't have
to deal with ethnic disparages -
   given the school rhyme murzynek bambo
by the pole-jew poet by the name of
juliusz tuwim -
  it's nice, when a language is clearly syllabled,
like polish, unlike french or english,
and not so pedantic in treating every word
like a chemist might...
     by simply making pangrams,
   or thereabouts;
as there is rife diminutive suffix endearing
in the language, rather than plain
outright offensives - english doesn't really
have the endearing diminutive suffix,
last time i checked,
           mały malutki, maciupki would
be a feast for parasites had it fallen from
the nest...  true art-form,
        the microscopic point being made,
doubly endearing.
        beside the point? you've never landed
in a feral land, have you, esp. at night,
in a cold december night in warsaw?
   **** me, i'm the native here, and i feel
like i've just landed on the, ******* moon!
you know how white my town of birth is?
as white as: the memory of that mulatto girl,
back in the 90s...
               which only means one thing:
weird... i mean weird in a neutral sense,
   it seems weird to says this but:
every time i return to england...
   it's almost a relief seeing an asian,
      or an african (of stated descent) -
  i'm pretty **** sure people in western countries
couldn't stomach a return to ethno-homogenous
societies...
     i can't stomach it, and i'm the first generation
to make this observation,
   how the hell do you think i'd stomach
having my native tongue suffocated when
i'd like to speak it to my children?
         i'd probably have random outbursts
using it at night, drunk, with people thinking
i was schizophrenic...
   with the reply: i'm not schizoid!
no one speaks slavic to me! so i'll speak it to myself!
mind you, these lands are so feral,
so tightly knit that it will be hard for
an insurrection -
      and when i say it would be hard:
i know it would be hard...
   take for example the dialects -
modern day prussians? they're known as
kashubians...
          and the germans that didn't move
after the revision of borders? silesians.
  a bit like the scots and welsh on these isles;
how many africans can you spot
in warsaw? out of a 1000 people?
perhaps 1, and that's a generous perhaps.
      the whole atmosphere feeds the already
ingenious brainwashing i've experienced in
england: is everyone ****** or something?
that's what you get! and you cannot suddenly
rid yourself of the indoctrination you experienced
when succumbing to the educational system...
i watch my ethnic natives, and i can clearly
see: a great wall of china...
    they're swarming, like water, filling all
the crevices, all the gaps...
  and they seem so, so oh so ****** impregnatable,
i'm pretty sure that if any woman
steps out of line, like the french women with
the nazis: i've already seen castrating /
ostracizing looks by by fellow commuters on
a bus...
               you even know what mob rule looks
like when a muslim murders a stupid
kid that stole two bottles of soda from a kebab
shop? the kebab show isn't there anymore...
no... hello! i'm pretty sure the kebab shop
owner isn't around with us anymore, either!
hello! mob rule is mob rule...
           the last time i heard
   when this moroccan was taken into police
custody, and then marched into the prison:
he was found ******* & ******* himself...
hello!? i was born in these parts of the world:
these people have buckled up,
       it's not a land akin to a pit of serpents
(lying festering cannibalising - like england):
it's a valley of ravenous wolves.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
oh i was a bad man, a bad bad man... i better pay up, and say my prayers; you won't give me the Bob Dylan meadows of Kentucky tomorrow... you won't, just drive-through assertions on centipedes, Alistair Armstrong on the moon, the discovered and boring Alaska and Antarctic... what else, tortoise Tsars talking penguin? before the science gets there, the fiction will be repulsive to begin with.

and to think a tyrant like Henry VIII
could write the anthem (greensleeves) that's not
god save the queen*, and allow the queen her head?
but i'm sure the proverbial fancy of England
undermined both William and Canute
with her willing ways and her
hip-borne sways...
to mind i have but the Arabian girl
in mind her elephant costume of Baghdad -
but of course i revel is speaking for
all things human -
a timely message some would say with
choking at the joke - and i too,
for to hear the cockchafer, candle-lit moonlight
the baking of potatoes, the old ways of communism
spoken from the woods, ancient adverts
for the creased shirt, i'd be the African
                                                Bambo boy of tomorrow;
wild man of the north, whitened, ain't
Eskimo, and ain't no believer in superstition -
a man that feeds no soul to only feed the mind
and this, requested world, clean shaven
and happy tie-tight-dressed for the day-job,
loose feet numbering 7 inches in 12 inch shoes,
my tongue of a pauper in a wallet of a billionaire
spending a lifetimes's worth of food
and whatever vanities dragged into the stench
of a squat.
ThatKidCarson Jun 2014
I got stiches,
Caused from backstabers and *******,
Hope they heal soon,
Looking at the moon as it turns muron,
Alone in my room,
Smoking **** and bambo,
Convicted of a crime,
Will soon pass in time,
Living life is a *****,
Notice that since i was born in 1996,
Now im a skinny jean wearer,
Mood changes just like the weather,
Youll never know what i think,
Only when i drink,
Crying my heart out when im drunk to let out the rage,
Demons in my head everyday coming out the cage,
Let me tell you about my life yall,
Was a speical ed kid that people passed in the hall,
Gotta get back up when i fall,
Start off fresh and have a ball.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
palyak...
   gwoopi:
palyak...
  pierdu
wart piotr,
    lieb pavel!
palyak:
gwoopi
           palyak!
czekoor!
   czaj!
   jemu
zwe, cykor!
  zwe! gagarin!
zwe! kitaj!
    kitajec!
pan szamb!
    ruszkin puszkin!
zwajce pijajce!
    szto?! szu szu
szarania!
        moskiw!
bamboula:
bratek bambo!
ukrajnin: bohun!
  sto stokortek
nad grobem:
   KACAP!
  ка'тсап!
     HORONWIEG
zgranego
młota i kilofa!
oj barket:
ty raz jeszcze
będziesz
żegnać glebę:
            jak chleb!
gryź ty:
    tą garść piachu,
na twój ząb
jak modlitwe
    na swój zór!
          i mów mi:
słotka,
miękka bółeczka!
       kajzerka!
niby:
wilhelm kaiserschuh
tap tap...
tippentanzen...
mów mi że to tak!
jak zawsze:
    warta propaganda.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2023
in light of a film coming out... the... what is it?
the american society of magical negroes...

for a little while i thought
i was in on something...
humour me or rather:
i'll humour myself...

                                         knee                    grow...

better still...

            akin to Samuel Beckett's Watt
                                           custard pie of verbiage:

a Mrs. Grown, née Grow used to
appreciate the theatre,
before meeting a Mr. Grown who
had no ear or heart for theatre
and instead adored opera and cinema...

these have become somewhat "angry"
statements concerning:
it would have been a privilege once
to be privileged so by nothing
equipping me to succumb to an Englishness...

only recently during a shift
a company rep
who i met ages ago supervising on level 5
of Wembley with:
that baby faced black giant
i'll call Alfredo for now...

come to think of it: race relations have
never been better: no since that
hiccup after a most glorious childhood
in the mid to late 1990s
something happened
akin to angry youths rioting at
Tottenham or some **** or other...
or: there was a designated desire for
materialism: so they started stealing bicycles
because there is no road tax invoked...

so this brown skinned... Pakistani Bangladeshi...
Indian... never mind:
we all look alike i've been identified
as Albanian, Croat, Swede, German, Russian...
us white people all look alike: don't you think?
it's a white "privilege", "thing"...

i thought Albanian was rather weird
since i have nothing southern European
going for me...        
but this walks up to me and starts to embrace
my hands....
oh... i love where i work...
it's in full scrutiny of the c.c.t.v. so nothing
can be hidden...
he comes up to me an embraces my hands
with his...
says:

i've been sitting in this corridor with the other
company reps, in the dire cold...
my... you have really warm hands...
and we stand there embraced with hands in hands
one brown skinned boy
with a white skinned boy...
i think: rather weird...

i even managed to convince Francis the...
an African of sorts
to work his charm on the ladies
at the vending vans outside the L.S.
to give me free food...
and supposedly we're now buddies...
as the saying goes: black don't crack...
he might look like he's in his 50s by white standard
but i suspect he's in his 70s...
loud *******... almost grotesque
in his broken english but bulging lungs
of some baboon baroque boom boom boom...
not that i never think of myself
as the albino aqua **** similis...
because i do so it's not a real insult
if i'm also bewildered by my lack of tail:
although i have more hair:
on face, head, back, torso, legs, ***...

of note... i had to overhear the Englishman
in his 60s... frustrated, demoted,
given less responsibility:
how these types will cling to faking anti-racism
and begin slagging of eastern "Europeans"...
listen: i don't have the heart to beat an already
beaten dog... so this group classification
of eastern "Europeans" like there's no difference
between the Polacks the Hungarians
Lithuanians... it's just poor education:
or rather - to have been educated in
a hyper-geography of tourism that extends towards
Somalia and Hawaii...
but even i don't like to be grouped
in the term eastern "European"...

            because there really isn't a term
western "European" given that that's pretty clear
the immediate distinctiveness of the French
the English, the Spanish, the Italians...
so this gas cage this rummaging in a collectivism
is sort of... unbecoming?
but like i said: i let the comment slide...
because i don't really have a hunchback
to lean on in terms of: historical reparations blah blah
and sorting the salt from the snort of *******...

but something is emerging...
new race relations...
                i always had a positive race relations mantra
instilled in me...
all the way back from Poland
via a Juliusz Tuwim poem 'murzynek bambo':
accusations: because it was written by a Heb?

so much false-accusatory sensibility-ism
off an -ism off an -ism
        yet none to gratify some diminutive
concept of what is so otherwise so wrapped in
grandiosity of: neither spectacle nor... problem...

בֵּית
             b, yes... ah... *** *** army of Tottenham Hotspur:

beit...           y... י

        and.                                      ת  

טֵית (teis)

            סָ             wait... not teis? tey't?

סָ sa
                 מֶ m'eh

       ךְ (X)              harking k'h...

                      well **** me it's not mysterious to me:
ś š         ć č             ę
               ł                                   ż           ź

סךּי

sky - samekh kaf sofit yod

   a sky filled with ʊn       i.e. 'uns
rather than noons: ω: oohs and oozing more oohs...
the double-o's rather than...
what? quadruple the u's? into u u uu's?

   working from sky...           sea...

       QERE...

                          יָם         (mem yod...
or rather... yod...      a....     m....          yam)

yes it is...

                    שָׁמַיִם

hmm...                  ends with an m...
begins with a sh...
although a slightly different sh...

definitely a sha-
      
                         shin dot right not left so SH not S...
sha... ma... yi-          -m

what was i asking? earth in 'ebrew?
shamayim...   no... sky... oh lookie lookie...
i'm starting to get the hang of reading hebrew...

sky, sea...             earth...

אָבָק            a a down below... a tale of two Adams...
and already one on top, the Alpeh...

אָ (Aa)
א (A)

בָ (va)

             with ק being Qof...

Aavaq                  earth is aavaq...

   so it is: dust... or by extension a hint...
          
                                     as much as can be ascribed
to the mystery of the yod (י)

i ascribe as much to the following combinations
that i call the bridge of sighs...
or the bridge of hiriq-tzere-segol...
                    where Eve and Lilith reside...

אה

                                                                  חע

and in turn reversed: toward the bridge of laughter.

— The End —