Poetry – something I wish I had more time to dedicate. I guess I can call it my hobby, after all, I had written few poems which “gave people chills” – in a good way.

The fun with poetry started not so long ago – December last year, perhaps. I then sat down thinking how should I procrastinate next… And then it came to me: of course I can write depressing poems to make myself feel even sadder! I proceed to write random words that actually make sense (I promise you that this is how poets work, I swear on my pen!) and I suddenly had over twenty poems written. Of course, they were Polish, very Bolesław Leśmian styled… No rhymes, because I hate them. I think rhymes sometimes make the poem too childish… and I can’t rhyme well. My inner adult is against that.

Most of my poems come from very dark chapters of my life. Very personal, very sad – sometimes even philosophical. I write about love, but not only that, no. I write about life and how pointless it may seem sometimes. The inevitability of death, the passing memory that is not guarded by people or stones… It’s all there. There is a poem about body – how faulty it can be (a tribute to Leelah Alcorn, perhaps?), how terrible it is to be trapped in something so stiff that can’t be changed so soon…

To summarize: poetry is my hobby but it keeps me alive at my lowest moments. I’m glad I picked it up along with writing prose.

I start to think that I could even write essays! Stop me before I spill more nonsense in more scientific words!


P.S. I do think I could upload some translated poems. Is that a good idea?


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