No accolades, prizes
Shiney things, false mirrors/illusions
I don’t deserve more since
I have everything
Before me roads to unknown
For companions
…..emotions – come together/like a traffic jam
Sky of lead
By WM –on a scrap of paper, unfinished?
No accolades, prizes
Shiney things, false mirrors/illusions
I don’t deserve more since
I have everything
Before me roads to unknown
For companions
…..emotions – come together/like a traffic jam
Sky of lead
By WM –on a scrap of paper, unfinished?
‘Vagabond’: My garden in cyberspace. Visitors are like wind in the solitude. Something will remain with the note: ‘author unknown.’
Extracts of Existence
Often shadows are more interesting than what cast them.
You follow the light, and your shadow, like your imprint, stays behind you. If you look behind, your shadow could tell more about you than the light, which doesn’t care.
Extracts of Existence
Blossoms in the Snow
The desperation of passing instants
The spirits go away . . .
Above: clouds are passing
Below: people pass like ghosts.
When the humans go away, when the ghosts go away, why is it such a parade of sorrow? Perhaps because passing introduces the past to the present and to the inflexible future, as youth introduces old age and old age introduces death.
With ghosts you will not straighten your accounts.
Extracts of Existence
If the old city of Cracow is bursting with life, the old city of Warsaw, rebuilt from scratch after its total destruction by the Nazis and filled with tourists on a quest for souvenirs, is an unreal souvenir in itself, seemingly detached from the rest of the city. Modern Warsaw absorbs you into its dynamic whirlpool as well as into its vestiges of martyrdom and heroism from WW II.
Beautiful old Cracow is commercialized; so filled with business that it seems to be one big display window. The entire old … Read More
I look with melancholy as the particles of my participation in the world’s structure fall like petals from a flower, and what remains with me is observation (painting), analysis (writing), and, from time to time, sausage with beer (my preferred). Perhaps the world forces me to be a solitary aquarium but I’m not made to be a hermit, but to march in the cavalcade of humanity, in my place, even if I have to live only a moment.
Extracts of Existence