"tadeusz" poems - Hello Poetry

49. Men, Niemen? most, rzeka i autobus zatacza się w pagórki Wilia? w upale budzą się Suwałki Memel zaciąga brzeg lasem znużoną powieką Memelland ist abgebrannt mury pagórki coraz to milej do ciebie miłe miasto https://yandex.ru/collections/card/5e6f063db651624b1a7fd6ad/ 53. NA ANTOKOLU na Antokolu barok wkoło stiukowi święci w plafony wzięci królowie żyd jak żywy w peruce na głowie triumfuje w purpurze nad ołtarzem w górze zaś przy drzwiach z krzyża zdejmowany nie baczy na rany świeże dłoń składa na grzbiecie na nowym habicie w ofierze wpółobjęty z jednego gwoździa zdjęty ledwo, a już łaskawie nad mieczykami z ogrodu błogosławi płotu regina pacis dwa bębny tureckie zdobyte pod Chocimiem milczą w kruchcie nad Wilią 60. JAK WILENKA spóźnimy się na wieczór Alicji Rybałko jak Wilenka po Zarzeczu kluczymy; mosty w zaułki - miasto dla nas na trzy klucze zamknięte, jak bajka o spiżowym wilku w Pikieliszkach za dworem księżyc studzi jezioro para łabędzi przy brzegu - tak prosto romantycznie i książki w bibliotece dla dzieci tu nadal dostać można jedynie po rosyjsku a poezja Alicji, jak gotyk św. Anny na palach olchowych i workach piasku w płomienistym po wielokroć łuku przenoszę na dłoni ten kościół Stefan Kosiewski; OBY DO WILNA. Wiersze. Wstęp: Dr Romuald Cudak: Na marginesie. Redakcja: Barbara Jędrzejczak. Opracowanie, korekta: Tadeusz Adam Knopik. Łamanie: Robert Kosek. Wydawca: Stowarzyszenie Europejskie PONS GAULI; współwydawca: Radio PLUS Katowice Sp. z o.o. Drukarnia im. K. Miarki w Mikołowie. Katowice 2000 ISBN 83-914127-0-9

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Mar 16, 2020

Mar 16, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC

sowa

OBY DO WILNA

49. Men, Niemen? most, rzeka i autobus zatacza się w pagórki Wilia? w upale budzą się Suwałki Memel zaciąga brzeg lasem znużoną powieką Memelland ist abgebrannt mury pagórki coraz to milej do ciebie miłe miasto https://yandex.ru/collections/card/5e6f063db651624b1a7fd6ad/ 53. NA ANTOKOLU na Antokolu barok wkoło stiukowi święci w plafony wzięci królowie żyd jak żywy w peruce na głowie triumfuje w purpurze nad ołtarzem w górze zaś przy drzwiach z krzyża zdejmowany nie baczy na rany świeże dłoń składa na grzbiecie na nowym habicie w ofierze wpółobjęty z jednego gwoździa zdjęty ledwo, a już łaskawie nad mieczykami z ogrodu błogosławi płotu regina pacis dwa bębny tureckie zdobyte pod Chocimiem milczą w kruchcie nad Wilią 60. JAK WILENKA spóźnimy się na wieczór Alicji Rybałko jak Wilenka po Zarzeczu kluczymy; mosty w zaułki - miasto dla nas na trzy klucze zamknięte, jak bajka o spiżowym wilku w Pikieliszkach za dworem księżyc studzi jezioro para łabędzi przy brzegu - tak prosto romantycznie i książki w bibliotece dla dzieci tu nadal dostać można jedynie po rosyjsku a poezja Alicji, jak gotyk św. Anny na palach olchowych i workach piasku w płomienistym po wielokroć łuku przenoszę na dłoni ten kościół Stefan Kosiewski; OBY DO WILNA. Wiersze. Wstęp: Dr Romuald Cudak: Na marginesie. Redakcja: Barbara Jędrzejczak. Opracowanie, korekta: Tadeusz Adam Knopik. Łamanie: Robert Kosek. Wydawca: Stowarzyszenie Europejskie PONS GAULI; współwydawca: Radio PLUS Katowice Sp. z o.o. Drukarnia im. K. Miarki w Mikołowie. Katowice 2000 ISBN 83-914127-0-9

55

Run little Polish boy Run in your field Learn of your great land And what it may yield Learn little polish boy Learn how to fight Soon you will grow up And protect what is right Know little polish man Know about freedom Go to the foreign land And do what must be done Fight now you polish man Fight for the cause Even if you might die They have freedom in their jaws You fight for America Right on freedom's side You fight for what you believe in As you risk your hide You make friend with founding fathers As you fight for their home You construct an army fortress To protect them as you roam When the war is over they give you riches when you go But you spend it on freedom That you've come to know You give it to a founding father To give up all his slaves Then you get on the boat And face Atlantic waves Fight now you polish man Fight for where you where born Fight hard polish man Charge at the bleeding horns You die now old polish man You can not fight no more Dead is the polish man With freedom in his core This is a Tribute to Tadeusz Kouzico a polish war hero who fought in the American revolution

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Jan 10, 2017

Jan 10, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC

GoldenHeartPoetry

A tribute to Tadeusz Kosciuszko (a forgotten hero)

Run little Polish boy Run in your field Learn of your great land And what it may yield Learn little polish boy Learn how to fight Soon you will grow up And protect what is right Know little polish man Know about freedom Go to the foreign land And do what must be done Fight now you polish man Fight for the cause Even if you might die They have freedom in their jaws You fight for America Right on freedom's side You fight for what you believe in As you risk your hide You make friend with founding fathers As you fight for their home You construct an army fortress To protect them as you roam When the war is over they give you riches when you go But you spend it on freedom That you've come to know You give it to a founding father To give up all his slaves Then you get on the boat And face Atlantic waves Fight now you polish man Fight for where you where born Fight hard polish man Charge at the bleeding horns You die now old polish man You can not fight no more Dead is the polish man With freedom in his core This is a Tribute to Tadeusz Kouzico a polish war hero who fought in the American revolution

41

*i don't mind these karaoke shows sometimes, watched the semi-finals, and one of the song choices was the hidden gem the chain off fleetwood mac's rumours album... never heard it before... go your own way hid it, overplayed on the radio, plus i was more into peter green's mac, akin to tadeusz nalepa's breakout.* walking back from the shop with a baggage of the usual sedatives, ahead on the pavement two guys, and behind them three african beauties... beauty soon faded, passed the two guys on the pavement, the three "beauties" took up the entire width of the pavement, nearing them not one budged to give me space, half a metre from them i stopped... no no girl, i'm not going to walk the double yellow line of the road... move! by stopping i peered into her eyes... if i kept on walking she'd fall to the ground, this is a body 6ft2 and 115kg... does politeness have to be this forced? have i suddenly become a protagonist in a ralph ellison novel or something? stood my ground... didn't walk in the gutter like a jew in prague or cracow in 1942 - why did i have to force a space for myself on the pavement? i'm not a body of rubber, alloys and leather seating - i deserve the same walking space on the designated highway of footsteps.

0

Apr 2, 2016

Apr 2, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

pride of a *****

*i don't mind these karaoke shows sometimes, watched the semi-finals, and one of the song choices was the hidden gem the chain off fleetwood mac's rumours album... never heard it before... go your own way hid it, overplayed on the radio, plus i was more into peter green's mac, akin to tadeusz nalepa's breakout.* walking back from the shop with a baggage of the usual sedatives, ahead on the pavement two guys, and behind them three african beauties... beauty soon faded, passed the two guys on the pavement, the three "beauties" took up the entire width of the pavement, nearing them not one budged to give me space, half a metre from them i stopped... no no girl, i'm not going to walk the double yellow line of the road... move! by stopping i peered into her eyes... if i kept on walking she'd fall to the ground, this is a body 6ft2 and 115kg... does politeness have to be this forced? have i suddenly become a protagonist in a ralph ellison novel or something? stood my ground... didn't walk in the gutter like a jew in prague or cracow in 1942 - why did i have to force a space for myself on the pavement? i'm not a body of rubber, alloys and leather seating - i deserve the same walking space on the designated highway of footsteps.

32

Nothing changed, Their world hasn’t been rearranged. The children still go to school. One of them is dressed uncool. Mourning, only wearing black, There is no way back. Another kid comes in— laughs and mutters: **** it! we never win.” There is a boy in the hallway, Crying because he doesn’t get a say. Karol Tadeusz Nawrocki is now, THEIR president, THEIR leader, THEIR ruler, THEIR FATE. They lost. They heard Magdalena Agnieszka Biejat— her name sadly couldn’t make it. Rafał Kazimierz Trzaskowski? another face on the losing ballot. PiS won, but at what cost? A corridor of silent tears. A playground where laughter dies. A future stolen from poor kids.

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Jun 2, 2025

Jun 2, 2025 at 12:44 PM UTC

DorotheaDaisy

at what cost?

Nothing changed, Their world hasn’t been rearranged. The children still go to school. One of them is dressed uncool. Mourning, only wearing black, There is no way back. Another kid comes in— laughs and mutters: **** it! we never win.” There is a boy in the hallway, Crying because he doesn’t get a say. Karol Tadeusz Nawrocki is now, THEIR president, THEIR leader, THEIR ruler, THEIR FATE. They lost. They heard Magdalena Agnieszka Biejat— her name sadly couldn’t make it. Rafał Kazimierz Trzaskowski? another face on the losing ballot. PiS won, but at what cost? A corridor of silent tears. A playground where laughter dies. A future stolen from poor kids.

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