no tuba today

bigband plays jazz, but Noel doesn’t love it
tuba he plays has a sound of director
none of his own, and the worst thing about it – 
noone has properly checked her

eyes on the note stand make Noel disheartened – 
he cannot bear meeting gaze of a listener
he wasn’t born for this whole kindergarten, 
paying his bills like a prisoner

what he was born for is space meditations, 
clarinet operas, avant-garde rhythm
proudly admiring his latest creations, 
aching for musical freedom

after rehearsals there’s family waiting, 
students and chores, and repairs, and litter
only concertos that Noel’s creating
sound pretty gloomy and bitter  

aftermath

as if the number of your lives
is what you’ve got to choose
as if the remedy is prize
at neverending cruise,
as if this world has place for all
of us who’ve lost our path,
who feel both powerful and small,
and done the aftermath

so i’m embracing everything – 
the living and the dead,
the neighbor, trading wedding ring
for love she’s never had,
the grandma, saving memories,
the granddad, losing all,
and us who walk the earth at ease,
before we neatly fall

the envelopes of vinyl tapes
smell like the ancient books
what if we’ve chosen the escapes
just judging by the looks?
there’s mostly nobody to teach
that it’s just fine to quit,
so while it’s still within my reach,
i’ll tell each one i meet

backstage of life

is this the sea singing under my boat
is this the storm hissing under my heart
is this the universe staying afloat,
keeping the worries apart

seem insignificant, people and pain,
beach stones and universe washes away
leaves only those who are simple and plain,
those who are seizing the day

infinite oceans that turn into sand
grow into fossils for heirs to find
treasure and cherish or toss out and bend, 
waters have us to remind

violet fogs over troubled waters rise,
calming the restless and cooling the strife
this is the universe opening eyes,
showing us backstage of life

excuse me for being honest

excuse me for being honest,
I’m sorry for being fair
for doing the things I’ve promised,
for pushing myself to dare 

it’s nothing amazing, trust me:
you’re always a scaping goat
a fighter for rights and justice,
the one whom they hate the most 

excuse me for being candid,
to everyone equal straight
disarmingly barehanded,
too effortless to translate 

believe me, this is a burden:
plain lying would be a bliss
however, I know for certain
the reason for choosing this: 

it never brought me to anything good.
it brought me to everything good.
it brought me to everything.

are you ready

who is the king when the lights will go out,
who is the master of masters?
what will you do when you’re scared to shout,
guns in your pockets of plaster

what will you scream when you’re utmost afraid
will there be names you’ll be calling
will you be proud of creations you made
will you convert into holy

spirits of mountains and spirits of seas —
whom you belong to when dying
have you been thinking what happiness is
have you been literally trying

people you’ve preached to will never find out
backstage of courage and fear
so if you have to stand out from the crowd,
you are alone there, my dear

acceptance

let them exist, let them all just exist
wicked and beautiful, crooked and shy
sing in their showers and plant their trees
somewhere among them am i

somewhere inside very prominent crowd
i can create an identity of
somebody who’s neither sorry nor proud,
somebody ready to love

bus stops forgotten have stories to tell
i can imagine if cardboard could speak
what if we talk to each other as well,
wholesome, ambitious, unique

so if you think that i’m slightly too much –
poems too deep and emotions too loud –
look through the mirror, my arrogant judge,
let me exist in the crowd

day number one

on the day number one of this summer
i have swept all my floors very clean
she’s a terribly witty newcomer –
noone knows where the hell she has been

she has owed us the dresses and dances
under moonlight and sweltering rain
but let’s never forget of the chances
we’ve been given to never complain

wipe your forehead: it’s sweating with anger
hug your knees: they are covered in mud
if you’re stumbling – maybe that’s tango,
and your knot is a blossoming bud

i have also been crying too often
in between all the lessons i learned
this is why all my muscles have softened,
this is why i got light in return

on the fifth day i bet we are ready
for adventures prepared ahead
i am greedy for them, i am heady,
so my sails have been colored in red:

that’s the color of courage and passion
(choosing these over anger and war)
choosing sunlight became an obsession –
try: i bet you’ll be craving for more

enough

there was one man who said i can, 
and so i thought i should
dream big, create a major plan
and master adulthood

but on my way i found some more
fine reasoning to dreams:
this life is our to explore –
that’s easier than seems

so choose your heart before your mind
and let it shape your choice
whatever reasons you will find,
let nothing stop your voice

if lonely – find someone to hug, 
if overcrowded – hide
when wires mess around – unplug
and call it all a ride

when i was asked what has once been
the biggest gift i got – 
it wasn’t things i’ve touched or seen, 
or miracles one brought

i said it really was enough
when someone has believed
in anything that we can love
and love we have received 

handle with safety

i’ll handle your story with safety. i know it’s fragile. 
i won’t accidentally spill it or let it break. 
whatever you’ve trusted me with, it has been a while, 
since we have been wide awake

i know that you’re anxious. i know you can’t answer why. 
i also am sure it gets better, if you just let.
the secret of moving the universe is to try – 
there’s nothing more clear than that

i’ve seen them, the quitters. i bet you’re not one of those, 
they often get buried in arguments – or a grave
one day i got tired of saving them – i suppose, 
they didn’t want me to save

so when there’s a messy old planet – don’t even dare, 
begin with yourself, start with tidying up your room, 
and out of the darkness that haunted you everywhere
i swear you’ll begin to bloom 

go

the story didn't yet begin,
when you were forecasting its end.
you were so desperate to win
and scared it's going out of hand

but they were desperate as well,
who tried to stop you from the ground
what were their reasons, hard to tell,
but they have won another round

next time you're braver, if they're bold,
next time you're learning not to care
whatever anybody told,
you have your aim and getting there

whatever anybody thinks
is really none of your concern
so if you dreamed of having wings,
go act like being airborne