Skip to main content

one hour till departure

hey we go . . . one hour . . . two trains . . . plane . . .london

well, Milton Keynes for a while . . . interview for a marketing gig in North London Tuesday. If I got the job, I would be the marketing fella for an English language school in North London. The other side. Not teaching. Not sure if I can get it. Not sure of anything except . . . goodbye Poland. It's been good. It's been terrible. It's been a roller coaster. I have learned a lot. I need to be in an English speaking country for an extended period of time. Maybe grab some roots.

I met some amazing people in Poland (Ewa, Joe, Magda, Zofia, Jon, a fantastic student named Piotr, Ela etc.)

Krakow is a beautiful city. A lot of interesting things happening. I will visit Krakow again for sure!!!

Zurek is an amazing soup. Bigos is good in the winter. Polish beer was quite good.

I will miss some of my great students at Empik!!! I won't miss Katowice!!!

time for a new life . . .

next entry will be from London (or London area)


Anonymous said…
Good luck Macrus! Thank You for everything you taught me. I wish I knew you better - but it's impossible :)


Go where those others went to the dark boundary
for the golden fleece of nothingness your last prize

go upright among those who are on their knees
among those with their back turned and those toppled in the dust

you were saved not in order to live
you have little time you must give testimony

be courageous when the mind deceives you be courageous
in the final account only this is important

and lat your helpless Anger be like the sea
whenever you hear the voice of the insulted and beaten

let your sister Scorn not leave you
for the informers executioners cowards – they will win
they will go to your funeral and with relief will throw a lump of earth
the woodborder will write your smoothed-over biography

and not forgive truly is not in your power
to forgive in the name of those betrayed at dawn

beware howver of unnecessary pride
keep looking at your clown’s face in the mirror
repeat: I was called – weren’t there better ones than I

beware of dryness of heart love the morning spring
the bird with an unknown name the winter oak
light on a wall the splendour of the sky
they don’t need your warm breath
they are there to say: no one will console you

be vigilant – when the light on the mountains gives the sign – arise and go
as long as blood turns in the breast your dark star

repeat old incantations of humanity fables and legends
because this is how you will attain the good you will not attain
repeat great words repeat them stubbornly
like those crossing the desert who perished in the sand

and they will reward you with what they have at hand
with the whip of laughter with murder on a garbage heap
go because only in this way will you be admitted to the company
of cold skulls

to the company of your ancestors: Gilgamesh Hector roland
the defenders of the kongdom without limit and the city of ashes

Be faithful Go

See you somewhere!
cantadora, said…
Ups! It was me and "Envoy of mr Cogito" of Zbigniew Herbert specially for You :)))

postpran said…
thank you for posting this great poem. perfect!!! It helps to read it. Get a perspective. yes perspective helps a lot as I wade through the endless listings of jobs in pr marketing etc.

thank you!!!!

good luck as well . . . maybe we will run into each other somewhere in this mad world :-)
Tomasz Zelek said…
Everything best Marcus on your new path! Hope wee'll meet someday, somewhere :) Tom & Ola

Popular posts from this blog

poets reading poets

There are on A now: Andrews, Antin, Apollinaire, Ashbery

A project from the Atlanta Poetry Group. Check it:

The Poetry of Tao Lin

Another Ireland by Robert Archambeau

This review really hit it for me. I recently read Maurice Scully's _Livelihood_ and Geofrey Squires _Untitled and Other Poems_ is on deck (I love that baseball term. It is baseball, right?)

I think this is from The Nortre Dame review, but I found it via goofle (I mean google).

Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
Geoffrey Squires, Landscapes and Silences. Dublin: New Writers' Press, 1996.
Catherine Walsh, Idir Eatortha and Making Tents. London: Invisible Books, 1996.

By Robert Archambeau

I began the first half of this article (Notre Dame Review #4) by mentioning some of the limits to the legendary hospitality Ireland has shown to its poets. If you arrive in Ireland from any point of departure outside of Eastern Europe, you will indeed find a public far more willing than the one you left behind to grant poets the recognition all but the most ascetic secretly crave. However, this hospitality has never extended to Irish poets w…