Miriam's Iris Why did you want to look into Miriam's iris? Why did you want to catch her gaze that silently unfolds the petals of conceit, self-pity, and bewilderment, revealing bluest sorrow, soft heart of gold? Love is awakened lightly sleeping it waits to be: daily enchantment-- Swirls of transfigured glory dancing a fragrant dream: four million circles— Hi! I'm a Canadian living in America, but I'm from Poland. It is a wild country: my brother once caught a tiger there... I just looked, the thing had claws! . So, since then, I often prefer to look and think, not catch tigers. Here are some things that I've seen. I've used some thoughts for my poems (the rest gets wasted, I guess). Belonging If you have a stem that needs a flower I am your rose. If you are a blade of grass that longs for the happy weight of a butterfly I'll give you wings. If you are a cherry overflowing with rich, sweet juice I'll plant you as my tree. Once Upon a Love once upon a love there was a smile once, there was a glance into a dance: swaying body like willow's branches in the wind once I was small and happy and ate wild strawberries beside my house (the yellow paint was peeling off as usual) now I look up the tree of July the tree of my love the tree of my sorrow (full of bees) and cry without tears in silence Selling Nothing He walked towards the circus, the man selling nothing: bunches of balloons dancing in the wind, bags of cotton candy... Nothing. Puffed up emptiness on a stick. Simulacra of existence. We don't need them. We won't eat them. We have our own. Come to think of it - frankly - that's what we are: Vanity of Vanities (long forgotten Song of Songs) - not even sorrow - When I am not working I like looking at birds and listening to their voices. I smell a lot of flowers during my walks. Leaves, especially with the sun shining through, are an endless fascination. So are dewdrops on the grass. Watching my kids play is great fun. But I no longer like to count. Instead we tell stories to each other. Here are two of mine: Once upon a time there was a giant. His eyelashes were so huge that when he blinked he scratched the moon off the sky. He caught the falling moon in his hands and said: "Nice ball! Where is the basket?" Another one: Once upon a time there was a fish. It wanted to be a bird instead so it flew into a tree. But the tree was made of rubber, so it bounced off the tree and went to the moon. The moon had just been scratched off the sky, so the fish fell down, saying: "Am I singing, or what?" That's it, for now. Actually, I'm not interested in what you think about this, so do not send me any messages. Never go back. Poems, stories and pictures copyright 1997-2003 by Maja Trochimczyk. Layout and scanning by Marcin Depinski. Home | Biography | Glorias | Poems for My Friend |