THE MAN WHO DIDN’T WANT TO DIE
Though feared the dark
Felt safe at night
Was sad while
Others laughed
He was terrified of grave
With his every breath
In every imperfection
Saw the crude craft of
Death
Though he felt
He’d lived and died before
Did his best
Not to pass away
Without a trace
He looked for his shape
In the ancient statues or
Nietzsche’s man
Surrounded himself
With noble scents
But deep inside his soul
Was petrified by the moth
Of rotting bones
Worshipped heroes of the past
Though he knew
His Mother-Earth
Was just a participle
In the sea
Of fertile stars
Believed in force
But followed the Galilean’s footsteps
Without remorse
Didn’t find comfort
In the wise men’s scripts
And like a captain
Buried his ship
In the shallows off
The lazy shore
Rather than crash it
Against the cliffs of
Animal temptations and wrath
Finally found the long-sought peace
In a simple life
And the gardener’s serenity of
LOVE
28.11.2014,
Bialystok city, Poland
MONSTER
You kill, my fiery friend,
Or turn clay into steel
The unreal into real
My dearest enemy
I saw your whim
Rather than your claw
My deadliest enemy
The feeling, not meaning
Of life – I sometimes
Get through you
Although, I’ve never
Seen your face,
Or been to your
House of pain
Like a fighter
Without a fight
I feel lost
Within the walls of bones
When you’re not around
02.02.2013,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE SPIRITUAL WAR
Silent war
Within the walls of bones
I carry my cross in the Jerusalem
Inside my soul
I went to war
Without leaving home
Climbed the mountains
Of torment in the
Kingdom of moan
In the times without a soul
I wage a spiritual war,
Within me
Doesn’t matter if God exists
Or maybe not
I wage a spiritual war
Within my soul
She often comes to me
With all her vices of Venice
And the ancient Rome
But I won’t break or stumble,
Though stinging pain and torture
Will be my only reward,
He wakes up in
My soul
With all his golden
Rings of power and
Mesmerizing glow
But I won’t bow or stumble
’Cause I wage a spiritual war
Within me
Like every ore needs fire
To be born in its pure form
I’ll reach my final shore
Through my spiritual war
31.08.2014,
Bialystok city, Poland
POLAND
Spit in the face
Chaos, quarrel and disgrace
Battle with little chance
Patriots, traitors, conspirators
In the bleeding land
Of the grey and the
Ancient lakes and fields
Between the two dragons
Wild cavalry charge of
Romantic Utopians
Straight into
The flames
Her cold forests bred
A tribe of restless spirits
Who can break the steel
Or seize fortresses
Dug deep into the rocks
Whenever told
“It’s impossible.”
You can see her blossom
When she’s raped
Feel the glow of freedom
When she rises from the dead
Her churches filled with priests
Who’d sooner take a bullet
To turn into a myth
Rather than a coffin’s filth
Willows here speak of
Chopin’s weep
And dance waltz
With a drunkard’s song
But all her diamonds
Got trampled and crushed
In the evil tempest of
The Black Cross and the Red Star
Her cities rebuilt
In the places
Where the ivy of envy
And self-hate laugh
BUT
I would die for her
Give away all my riches
In return for
Just spit in the face
And a nameless grave
24.11.2014,
Bialystok city, Poland
FORGIVENESS
Been told to forgive
Forget the years of torment
As if it was just a card game
I feel foreign
In my own land
Nobody remembers
Nobody cares
I feel alien
Among the crowds
See their faces
Know their names
The red disease
Has spread its seed
When the Round Table knights
Turned villains into heroes
See them
In their limos
Palaces of precious stone
Been told to forgive
Forget the years of torture
As if it was just a cheap show
Murder in the daylight
Spit in the face
Unforgiveable
But not here
Where mockery
Dances its new dance
How can I live?
Like a relic
Like a clown
Among the numb
Forgive the sinner?
Try to be blind?
BUT
I still see
The sea of blood
Burning mines and shipyards
Tanks at night
On April 10th 2010
I saw Europe weak
Just as it was in 1939
01.12.2014,
Bialystok city, Poland
MEANING OF LIFE
God chooses the weak
But gods prefer the strong
Deep faith dwells
In the barren
Desert where
The evil grows
Devil plays with those
Who kill in the name of God
The snake wakes up
In the roar of abundance
DNA survives through the war
Art due to the fall
Surrender brings peace
Just like the night
Feeds on the light
The universe takes
What the universe gives
Distant stars vibrate with life
Have we lived in other shells?
Or we’ll return to the embryo of ash?
The question still remains
What’s the meaning of life?
The heart says:
LOVE
But
The universe screams …
SPREAD YOUR SPECIES SEED!
21.11.2012,
Bialystok city, Poland
DARK REJOICE
How could I rejoice the light
If I didn’t know the night?
How could I feel alive
If I weren’t on the other side
From time to time?
How could I try
To taste the noble fruit
If I hadn’t lived among the scum of the earth some time?
Like a sailor without the sea
A fighter with no enemy
My ego feels alien
In the kingdom of me
When I lose my cross
And my wounds begin to heal
Like the fall without
Colorful leaves
Beauty among the blind
I feel awkward
When I’m not
Falling down
03.11.2014,
Bialystok city, Poland
SLAVE
I’ll always be yours
Carrying your invisible bonds
If I let you in
You sting me
With the sunrise of the soothing gold
You know my every weakness
Better than I do my own soul
No matter
How much I fight
I constantly fall
You calm my depths of torment
If I only kneel at your throne
You release
My clay heart
From the gloomy cross
Just to watch me crawl
You kind of like me
When I climb
The side of my private Golgotha
Ignoring
All the pleasures of your court
Velvet hounds won’t feed this time
Nor will your silk claws of ecstasy
They say
It’s better to burn than dry
Die a gladiator
Rather than an old clown
19.09.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
SPARTAN
Not by choice
I joined the ancient brotherhood
Of war doomed souls
Muscles carved by
The secret sculptors of remorse
Back beaten by whips
Of spiritual blows
My armour bent
By the Cerberus’s mad bites
My shield cracked
In bloody battles
In the temples of Achlys
Thoughts torn
By the claws of
The gloomy dawn
Though I’ll never beg for mercy
Bleeding and fighting
In the clear blue sky of
The Thermopylae in me
21.09.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE UGLY TRUTH
The serenity stained glass
Crashed by their pitch-black eyes
The certainty womb pierced
By Ezekiel’s fire in the sky
They hide behind the mask
Of the Atlantis, giants and trolls
They smirk in every myth
With the gloomy sunset
Of our fallen hopes
I wish I could
Annihilate all the
Ancient angels
In vimanas
Speeding through the
Space and time
Erase the kachinas
Out of my aura songs
02.10.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
BLINK
Our life?
Is just a blink of time
Sometimes a farce
Typically a tragic comedy
Premature end or
The shell of being old
Some try to escape
To the absinthe of Absalom
I’m usually scared
To see the other side
The “doors of perception”
Or “soul migration”
Make me feel
As if I were numb
Maybe we’re just particles
Of light
Twirling between God and the dark
Our life?
Is just a pilgrimage through time
03.10.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
Before I shed my shell
To depart towards the light
Enter the dome of memories
To look through my past life
Where I hope to feel
No shame
Of the things
I’ve done
I’ll just have the last glimpse
At the doctors trying to resurrect
The flesh vessel
Of mine
Made of stars
Abandoned by the soul
When the time was right
Don’t cry after me
‘Cause I’ll join you on the other side
I’ll pick the face
You’ll recognize
Before I leave this world
Behind
I lust to
Reach the
Garden of Eden
Smell the scent
Of serenity
Get away from
Elevating and falling
Between Heaven and Tartar
Just for a while
Spit out the poison
Out of my mind
There I long
Not to think
About asteroids, EBE’s and dying
Just for a chronon of time
Breathe with
The colours of beauty
Through the visions of Monet
Before I leave
The false colours
Behind
I desire to hear
The heartbeat of the Earth
Only for a tiny atom of time
06.12.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
HUNGER
Clay legs
In the ancient desert of
Mourn
Frantic eyes
Howling
Without a word
HUNGER!
Here comes thy Lord
The serpent of
Weakness
Screams for its prey
Cut off its head
But
Sooner or later
It will crawl back
Again
Breathless heart
Torn into pieces
By the invisible
Predators
You’re a
Runaway
Inside your own soul
Oh, God
Give me the
Patience of Job or
Turn my torment
Into the
Gladiator’s song
The beast of hunger was
Born at dawn
Feed it with steel
Or burn
In its claws
08.12.2015,
Bialystok city, Poland
ONE PLACE
I know
One place
Where all the lanes
Seem still unpaved
One space
With no trinity
Of fear, anguish and disgrace
Where all
The dreams
Are still
To be dreamt
I’ve been to a place
Where the dark
Specter of Fate
Still hasn’t found
Its gate
30.03.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
SPIRIT DANCER
I’m something more
Than the mountains of my bones
And the jungles of my joints
I sense
My roots reach deeper
Than the claws of our time
Can go
I feel
I’ve already passed
Through the black door
Just a spark of the
One Big Soul
Onto this earthly chessboard
We were thrown
Into the fight
Between
The dark entwining
The heart of light
10.04.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
LETHE MAN
Thy waters
Shed the thorny cloak off
Who I am
And used to be
Cleanse all these
Petty lusts in me
Then wash up my soul
To fill it in with
Storms
Like a river to the sea
Jaguar to its mother darkness’
Knees
I drown in thy
Poisonous waters of
Tranquility
To be a step
In a dervish’s spin
To flow through
The universe
Integrity
And be pierced
By thy waves of
Momentary harmony
11.09.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE WARSAW UPRISING 1944
In Cassandra’s dreams
Fate threw a dice
Played with doomed
Kings and great cities
And turned them into dust
Troy’s flames were not
High enough
Murder and rape
Enchanted the Moirai
Picked the place
That had the purest
Heart
Unleashed two beasts
With black and red
Eyes
August, the first
Straight at five
Monsters of steel
Crashed the young
Lionhearts
God’s playground
Danced with fires
Through the carnival of
Massacre and bloodbath
This time the
Coliseum was filled
To the roof at once
Youth and honour
Against Führer’s fury
To make his stormy father
Proud at him at last
In Cassandra’s dreams
Fate plays with time
Warsaw’s flames were not
High enough
Beasts will soon fill
The new playgrounds.
30.09.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
ENGLAND
I loathe you
As much as
I love
Your cold arms
Soothe the storms
That tear me apart
Though I marvel at
Your monarchs, magic gardens
Dukes and lords that would
Rule the world
But now you’re just
The fading smile
On the old lady’s
Wrinkled crown
Putting your head
Under Mahomet’s
Mighty sword
30.09.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
HOMETOWN
I take another walk
To talk to the
Specters of
The past walls
Cold sidewalks
Cool my burning
Crown of thoughts
My hometown, my
Bitter-seet soulmate
When all
My dearest are gone
Memory ghosts embrace my soul
When I take another
Walk through
The streets that once
Spoke with all the
Tongues after
The Tower of Babel tumbled and made us
Fight like mad dogs
I pass like a shadow
To whisper to the visions of the places
Filled with scents of the women
I once loved
Stare at windows
To see the faces
That are long gone
I smirk at
A piece of lawn
Where the proud
Ritz Hotel
Would tease vanity
Like a smartly-dressed lady
Among the rugged mob
I tread down the
Cracked pavements
Where the old Synagogue’s dome
Used to softly caress the
Belly of the grey-blue sky
Hear the silent
Screams of women and children
Burnt alive inside
Swastika praetorians had to feed
Their hate also
In my hometown
16.12.2016,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE ARMY OF THY
Disfigured and maimed
Marches thy army of
Fragility
Though the ancient scrolls preach
Pure might flows through
The Absolute of thee
What unearthly Kingdom
Gave birth to the legions of
Souls so doomed by
Destiny?
Were these cohorts of
Scattered weakness and pain
Forged by thy powerful
Hands?
08.01.2017,
Bialystok city, Poland
PARADISE LOST
In the tranquil streams
Cutting through the
Rivers of time
I kiss the nails
Set deep in the cross
I carry a countless time
Though the corporal shades of
My soul
Dawn and dusk
Its different shapes thrown
Into multiple worlds and lives
But this time
I long for these lost
Bright blue drops of time
I lost together with so
Many soulmates of mine
On my pilgrimage
Through time
I’ve lost and gained
The Paradise
Will I recognize you all
When my time comes
To leave another of my shells
Under the belly of the deaf sky
03.03.2017,
Bialystok city, Poland
HEALING HANDS
If I could
I would die a
Thousand times
To save every
Murdered child
If I could forge
My fragile weakness
Into the
Healing hands of thy
I’d cleanse this land of the
Cold steel of the
guillotine and
The demon seed of the
Concentration camps
If I just could
I would hunt the
Dragons
Haunting the
Tormented minds
I’d preach love to
The heartless hearts
Tear the blindfold
Off the vicious eyes
If I had
The Healing Hands of thy
I’d send a drought
Upon the river of blood
Between the Crusade and Jihad.
I’d fade away
The fiery flowers of wars
On all the
Distant stars
Dressed in the black vail of
Thy spirals of time
22.06.2017,
Bialystok city, Poland
ECLIPSE
Like the night will
Never wed the light
The soul soulmates will
Forever
Remain doomed
To be apart
They can only defy
The Atman’s plans
When the rays of gold and black
Bleed into the
Total Eclipse
In the spiral of time
Like the earth
Must not ever dance
With the sun or
The bright blue sky will
Burn with the final fire of
The golden trance
The soulmates are chained
To stay apart to
Shine with their dreamt delight
They can’t ever join together
To be one
Just like the day is not allowed to be
Embraced by the night
So their fragile beauty could
Remain intact
Just like a precious gemstone
Never to be found
An ancient flower
Paused in its cry for eternity
In a heart-shaped amber clod
Or
The glory of Pompeii
Buried alive to be saved
From the anger of time
18.01.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
KĀLÁ’S KARMA
Like the hands
Carved to kill
Eternal shadows
Unleashed to blow off
The candles of
Powerful kings
You keep running through your
Cosmic linear streams
I can sense you
In the haunted cemeteries
That would once stand as
The seven wonders of the globe
Did you become the executioner of gods
By your own will?
My dear destroyer of the worlds
Will your karma ever
Lead you to thy
Gallows and claws
You use to tear apart
The alternative worlds?
Though some day
You’ll turn my flesh into scales of ash
My dear TIME
My spirit will be
Free
On the other side of light
07.02.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
“CURSED SOLDIERS”
When the Soviet ghouls
Haunted their land
“Cursed soldiers”
Set off on a crusade
Father Forest
Let them into
The darkness of its heart
Though every tree whispered
“You’re already doomed to die.”
Soon there was more beast in their eyes
Than in the merciless mountains which
Turned into their killing ground
Showed no mercy to the red zombies
Tore them apart
Even if they caught one
The Kremlin fiends and their local thugs
Called them bandits
“Cursed soldiers”
Lived like wolves
Hunted day and night
Hiding like ghosts
In the deepest caverns of the night
Went deeper into black
Deeper into wild
But still retained the
Gladiators’ charm
Young poet’s heart
Filled with dreams and stars
Grew inseparably into
The cold steel of his gun
Hate pulled the trigger
Whether it was
A man, woman or child
She was 17
When the “red monsters”
Pulled her nails out
Put out cigarettes
On her lips
Made to caress
The petals of the kiss
But in the afterlife
“Tell my grandma
They didn’t break me.”
Her last secret message
From the hell of a communist
Prison still makes me proud
That she was an angel
From my tribe
She refused a blindfold
When the firing squad
Spat in her face
Calling her a “stupid cunt”
The storm of bullets
Pulled her spirit
Into the strange silence
Of a distant peaceful light
“Cursed soldiers”
Massacred one by one
Just like it had been
Written in the stars
Buried like shot
Wolves
In the sleazy pits of pigpens.
They were to be forgotten
But they rose like Phoenix
from the ashes and
Still run freely like wolves in the mists of
Akashic records
Up above the highest skies
There have always been rebels
On far away planets and ancient times
‘Cause the spirit of freedom is like the fire of
The rising sun
Dedicated to Danuta Siedzikówna nickname “Inka” – 17-year-old Polish “cursed soldier” killed by communists on 28.08.1946
The “Cursed soldiers” (also known as “doomed soldiers”, “accursed soldiers” or “damned soldiers”; Polish: Żołnierze wyklęci) is a term applied to a variety of Polish anti-Soviet or anti-communist Polish resistance movements formed in the later stages of World War II and its aftermath by some members of the Polish Underground State. These clandestine organisations continued their armed struggle against the communist government of Poland well into the 1950s. The guerrilla warfare included an array of military attacks launched against the communist regime’s prisons and state security offices, detention facilities for political prisoners and concentration camps that were set up across the country. Most of the Polish anti-communist groups ceased to exist in the late 1940s or 1950s, hunted down by agents of the Ministry of Public Security and Soviet NKVD assassination squads. However, the last known ‘cursed soldier’, Józef Franczak, was killed in an ambush as late as 1963, almost 20 years after the Soviet take-over of Poland.
19.03.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE BOOK OF SECRETS
Never touch this dagger of insanity or
The snake of curiosity will let you pass
Through the gates of the book
Darker than the darkest night
Though made of light
Its guardian owls will lead you
Towards the mysteries
You never dreamt you wanted to know
Never taste its words or they’ll crash your vision of our Eden
The Book of Secrets
Rewinds the space and time
Makes us just the Eloi
Trapped in a blue experimental lab
Blind man watched by
A vivid interplanetary crowd
I wish I could burn it
And fly like an eagle
Befriended with the wind of blissful
Mindless freedom
In the Apocalypse celebration
Like the Great Inquisitor
I’d caress this Book with flames
That devoured the Knight Templars
I’d murder its chapters
With cruelty of a Spanish conquistador
Right in the pyramid corridors of
Blood-thirsty Tenochtitlan
So our carnival of illusion could
Blossom in the comforting twilight
Reason crawls on its knees
“Please, don’t read it all !”
Faded pages like
Long-dead moths
Wrap me with the visions and images of
Legendary angels, demons
Fairy-tale like insects, reptiles and dwarves
Our prophets fooled by
The astronaut gods
Their technologies and
Tricks of physics
Turned us into faith Morlocks
Ready to destroy
In the name of different gods
The Book of Secrets
The eternity history imprinted by light
If I could, I’d burn it without hesitation
Like a black-clothed
Warrior of the Third Reich
Let me torch this Book with
The Nephilim visions
So they could never be reborn
Incinerated in Sodom and Gomorra
By the nuclear anger of the heavenly force
I’d delete the secret truth about
The pillar of fire and smoke in the sky
That led Moses and killed for the “chosen tribe”
It’s sometimes better to be blind
Like a new-born child
Finally I reach the bitter wisdom epilogue
Its words like wounds
Breed a poisonous desert rose
In the lost wilderness of my soul
Behind the bleeding horizon
Hurt howls
“The walls of Jerusalem are not
The end but just the dawn”
I envy the bygone saints
With all my heart
Their immaculate faith
Elevated their hope-shaped
Simple lives
Above the plagues and battle cries
03.04.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE MYSTERY OF MACBETH
Was the story of space and time already told
Before the light gave birth to
Billions of stars?
Did the dice of destiny
Play with universes
Shape the doom of shapes
Before the colours
Kissed the flowers of
The first sounds?
Maybe Lyran Wars were just
A whim of fate
Just like the guillotine’s trance?
Was the greatness of Atlantis
To be crashed in one night
Because the prophesy was prophesied
The Cerberus of kismet had to
Taste the blood?
Tell me Lord if
The serpent in the paradise
The Genesis flood spilling the ocean of blood
Without a single shot
Cain’s lethal deed
Herod’s power greed were just a part of
Thy higher master plan?
Did predestination sing its lullaby
Over the cradle of a monster- child
Long before he became Sir Jack the Ripper
The Devil’s son?
Do we really come to this world
Brothers and sisters of Oedipus?
Where the inevitable dances its
Inevitable karma dance
Though a thousand paths lie ahead
We’re escorted by the
Praetorians of Fate
To the one we are meant to tread
At night my silent prayers
Scream louder than a million thunderclouds
I’d rather live in the storm of
Chaos, coincidence and pure chance
Than wait until
Four Horsemen of Apocalypse
Approach the mirror of the heartless sky
Or maybe we should play with doom
With the frantic bravery of Macbeth?
25.05.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
THE FORGE OF IMMORTALS
I chopped off the wings of Icarus
But they grew back
Above the tower of my bones
I whipped my clay dreams
In a cage of thorns
But the next day
They rebelled in
The wild gardens of my soul
I took a ghost train
From the snow desert of
Frost bitten fragility
Among the phantoms of
Slick officers and by-gone ladies
I cut through foreign cities
Just to find their shadows here
I enslaved myself in the
Empty Scottish Highlands
To be reborn in a pure form
I knelt on the emerald moss
That used to kiss their dreams
To pray for the immortals that were
Forged among these holy trees
Finally Audley End became my second home
I fed my heart with the alien aura of its ponds
I bathed myself in its air
To ride the snake of fear
Fill the uneasy rivers of my blood
With the ancient gods’ might
To transform every muscle of me
Into wild animals’ machinery
To feel the heartbeat of oblivion
I ran every inch of pain
Together with Marathon man
Then I took a slide
Down the Gladius’ blade of bravery
I stood naked
Stroking the tigers of immortality
At dawn I dreamt the Spartan dream
Feeling immaculate freedom
In these Scottish Highlands
03.07.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
Dedicated to the Polish “Silent Unseen” commandos who fought to save the Free World from the two deadliest regimes in the world history – German Nazi Third Reich and the Bolshevik Soviet Russia.
Cichociemni (the “Silent Unseen”) were elite special-operations paratroops of the Polish Army in exile, created in Great Britain during World War II to operate in occupied Poland (Cichociemni Spadochroniarze Armii Krajowej).
Altogether 2,613 Polish Army soldiers volunteered for training by Polish and British SOE operatives. Only 606 people completed the training, and eventually 316 of them were secretly parachuted into occupied Poland. The first operation (“air bridge”, as it was called) took place on 15 February 1941. This operation was conducted by Captain Józef Zabielski, Major Stanisław Krzymowski and political courier Czesław Raczkowski. After 27 December 1944 further operations were discontinued, as by then most of Poland had been occupied by the Red Army.
Of 316 Cichociemni, 103 perished during the war: in combat with the Germans, executed by the Gestapo, or in crashes. A further nine were executed after the war by the Polish People’s Republic. Altogether 91 operatives took part in the Warsaw Uprising of 1944. They were the first true commandos in the history of warfare.
The training established by the General Staff’s Section VI (Oddział VI Sztabu Naczelnego Wodza) and the British Special Operations Executive (SOE) comprised five courses:
• physical-conditioning course (kurs zaprawowy)
• psychological and technical course (kurs badań psychotechnicznych)
• parachuting course (kurs spadochronowy)
• covert-operations course (kurs walki konspiracyjnej)
• final course (kurs odprawowy)
During the first phase of training, all the volunteers were taught to use every kind of weapon (British, Polish, German, Russian and Italian weapons) and mines. In additional courses, the soldiers were trained in basic covert operations, topography, cryptography, and sharpshooting. They were also taught details of life in occupied Poland, from German-imposed laws to current fashions in occupied Warsaw. The fourth course included all kinds of covert operations, jujitsu, and shooting at invisible targets. The final course included learning a new, false identity. All soldiers who passed the training were sworn in as members of the Home Army. Their motto was:” Fight Freedom for Poland or die”. After the II WW they fought against the Soviets in occupied Poland
Dedicated to the Polish “Silent Unseen” commandos who fought to save the Free World from the two deadliest regimes in the world history – German Nazi Third Reich and the Bolshevik Soviet Russia.
Cichociemni (the “Silent Unseen”) were elite special-operations paratroops of the Polish Army in exile, created in Great Britain during World War II to operate in occupied Poland (Cichociemni Spadochroniarze Armii Krajowej).
Altogether 2,613 Polish Army soldiers volunteered for training by Polish and British SOE operatives. Only 606 people completed the training, and eventually 316 of them were secretly parachuted into occupied Poland. The first operation (“air bridge”, as it was called) took place on 15 February 1941. This operation was conducted by Captain Józef Zabielski, Major Stanisław Krzymowski and political courier Czesław Raczkowski. After 27 December 1944 further operations were discontinued, as by then most of Poland had been occupied by the Red Army.
Of 316 Cichociemni, 103 perished during the war: in combat with the Germans, executed by the Gestapo, or in crashes. A further nine were executed after the war by the Polish People’s Republic. Altogether 91 operatives took part in the Warsaw Uprising of 1944. They were the first true commandos in the history of warfare.
The training established by the General Staff’s Section VI (Oddział VI Sztabu Naczelnego Wodza) and the British Special Operations Executive (SOE) comprised five courses:
- physical-conditioning course (kurs zaprawowy)
- psychological and technical course (kurs badań psychotechnicznych)
- parachuting course (kurs spadochronowy)
- covert-operations course (kurs walki konspiracyjnej)
- final course (kurs odprawowy)
During the first phase of training, all the volunteers were taught to use every kind of weapon (British, Polish, German, Russian and Italian weapons) and mines. In additional courses, the soldiers were trained in basic covert operations, topography, cryptography, and sharpshooting. They were also taught details of life in occupied Poland, from German-imposed laws to current fashions in occupied Warsaw. The fourth course included all kinds of covert operations, jujitsu, and shooting at invisible targets. The final course included learning a new, false identity. All soldiers who passed the training were sworn in as members of the Home Army. Their motto was:” Fight Freedom for Poland or die”. After the II WW they fought against the Soviets in occupied Poland.
NEMO
I set myself on fire to
See through the dream of dreams
In the kingdom of prana
I cut my veins with
The splinter of faith
To find myself a father
I cut off my limbs to see
How far I could walk
On the blade
Blazing above the day and night
I tear out my eyes to
Catch the true face of colours around
Tick tock! Nemo
Who am I ?
Beneath the layers of time
I really don’t know.
I make myself deaf to
Hear the mysterious voices of
Plants, reptiles and bees
I turn myself dumb to
Be dazzled by miracles
Like a new-born child
Nemo
I am deep in the spirit root
Growing through the flesh vessels of me
I whip myself with the
Scorching sun of Oman to
Be kissed by the cool breeze of
The desert night
I put myself in a pitch-black coma
Just to see how to better live
I drown my heart in the sleazy orgies of
Sodom and Gomorrah
To be raised from the blind near
The river of Jordan
I crush my bones to
Rise higher from the ground
I break the reality mirrors just to grasp
Who I was and I am meant to be
In the lives ahead of me
I bathe myself in the red rain
To wrestle the alien nightmare
That is about to come
Will I ever hunt the shadow of
My own Ātman?
So many distant names and lives of me
So many soul passers-by that used to be my families
In the spins of saṃsāra and Dukkha
Nemo
I am deep in the valleys of me
08.08.2018,
Bialystok city, Poland
TOWERS OF ANCHORITE
I followed Desert Fathers
To carve what’s right and wrong
In stone
Chain the fiery Eros harboring in my soul
Fate bestowed me with
The ninth card in Tarot pack
Though Dagonet’s mirth
Danced in my inner world’s carnivals
Shield shade of cross
Against the vertical slit eyes
Within these darkness breathing walls
Silence cures the blind
Towers of Anchorite
Under the alien hollow moon
The mantra of lonely candle lights
Make my heartbeat bleed
Into the terra’s pulse
Holy chants ram
The quarks and leptons gates of
Non-linear time
Rewinds all the Great Plague
Downfalls of my mind
Until I am the snowflake spirit child
Up in the Towers of Anchorite
Though Ahriman shreds
Flesh cloaks off my spine
Mohenjo-Daro’s death bird will never
Nest in my Ātman
Pearl purity of heart
Screams for a pilgrimage
Further than the Holy Land
Bleeding heart resurrects
The Dead Sea
Between my arms
On the stage of life
Where all the parts have been played a
Billion times
In this shadow cave
I’ll shed my bones
Burn the battered sorrows
More malicious
Than the sands of Hattin
Anchorite Towers of mine
Grow taller than a
Trillion stars
09.07.2019,
Bialystok city, Poland
“Without morality we are no different from computer programs or instinct-driven creatures
From various dimensions and universes.” – Peter Krzywiec
WALK WITH THE GIANTS
The rivers of my time run wild
As I ascend the scaffold of my life
The Icarus wings of mine
Ingrown deeper than
The Dead Sea scrolls of
Qumran
If I stay among the alive
I’ll be more dead than the
Ancient skull of Tutankhamun
My memory tree
Stripped bare of its leaves
See them burning crosses
NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM
The desert pain of runaways
So bound to enslave
My ivy eyes taste freedom
Go wild among the havoc of the
Gladiators crowds
Fury dances in Spartacus’
Berserker’s trance
Walk with the Giants
Higher than the stars can shine
I cut loose the
The anchor of illusion
Just to hunt the glory on
Nina, Pinta
and Santa Maria’s
Wind hungry masts
Walk with the Giants
Tiny man mocks the mystery of
Geometry and time
Under the bohemian Montmartre sun
Epileptic tremors
Lead me to the master mind that
Spawned “Crime and Punishment”
Dark lines
I drown among the heart demons
Deep down
Walk with the Giants
I thrust the tree of madness with
The Praetorian sword
In AD 41
The flames of fear scream in
Germanicus’ devilish son
I’d bless the blind eyes
Beside the holy killer Saul
In his no way back to carry the
Bethlehem light
Opium dream opens the gates of
My soulmate romantic poets’ Kubla Khan
03.12.2021,
Bialystok city, Poland
“ I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.” – William Shakeshpeare
PURGATORY BORN
The promised skies
Seem so afar
When I scale
The blood rain howling Musa Dagh
The sun tears tear my eyes
As I kneel upon the grave of
Torment crucified Armenian child
Will Guichen guard my spirit
Far away of these grief lands?
Purgatory born
No matter how we live and die
Our lives, like the roses of Hades
Bloom in the dark
Hodomor soul stripped skeletons
Haunt my heart
At night
Is my Heavenly Father just Endymion of
Eternal light?
Death masks worn by madness on
Nazino Island
Gutted women and wild screams
Turn my visions of hell
Into a pipe dream
The gulag ghouls
Like the ancient serpent clench my soul
I wrestle with the barbed-wire fences of
Auschwitz
Guardian angels must have gone blind
When the devil waltzed
Upon the Umschlagplatz
Did seraphim play the Warsaw ghetto
By a throw of the dice?
Bone-bred Katyn trees
Hum the executioners’ song into my ears
They carry their curse in every leaf
Purgatory born
No matter how we live and die
Our lives, like the roses of Hades
Bloom in the dark
FIRES OF ACRA
My God’s grim grave
Slides down the flames
Fires of Acre
Ablaze my Holy Land
The dearest flee my fortresses
Behind
No need to clench the shield
On the blood-stained barbicans
Whilst my jewel Salome child
Sealed my heart exile
My boyhood gardens bloom with ashes
As I break through to the
New Last Stand
My Kingdom of Jerusalem
Cries with its burning bells
Just the quick glance at the mainland
My Emerald Island muse
Now no more than
Gorgo Medusa
My Drakkar cuts
The amber dunes
The sapphire sea Sahara
All around
Though
Poseidon threw the dice
St. Elmo’s fire
Lit the storm’s paths
My father’s beacon
As blind as Höðr’s eyes
My skipper’s ghost ship skips
The Promised Land
Its Grail of freedom
Soulless
The Khazar coast dawn delight
My anchor almost hunts
The new homeland
New fires of Acre
Arise above the golden grounds
I see them burning Bucha
As the new Tsar dreams Batu Kahan’s
Demon dreams
Now I wake up seaworthy to
The new unknown
25.08.2022,
Bialystok city, Poland
“Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than those you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the wind in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
― Mark Twain
“Life is a journey, not a destination.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
„We live, as we dream – alone. . . .”
― „Heart of Darkness” Joseph Conrad
TITANIC TANGO
Titanic Tango
Neither Buenos Aires lustful kisses
Nor Havana bodily sinful riches
We just wrestle
Like Jesus and Judas
During the last night
Love on the unsinkable ship
Drunk dreams of the Promised Land
At midnight we went dancing
Spinning under the open starry sky
Absinth, posh deck made us forget
The world soon was about to
Turn upside down
The pearl-white killer
The glacier sharper than Brutus’ knife
Veiled the pleasure sea palace with
The eternal night
Without a blink of an eye
Would-be lovers shed their would-be love
No captain Ahab to face the ice beast with
A wild smile
The skeleton band
Ignored the repertoire
When we clenched the dancefloor with
Fake smiles
Chopin funeral march
Killed the Latin passion of
The Tango all the lovers
Hope to dance
The last lifeboats
Disappeared behind the curtains of the dark
Our daughter despises us so much
Didn’t even bother to glance back
Our son’s fury fierce enough
I see My Lai fires
Through him
When he looks into my eyes
I was a rejected recluse
Archons ambushed my despair
More dead than Bethany Lazarus
When you raised me from the hell
Our bride and groom’s graces
Pandor’s box in exchange for
The Black Plague curses
Titanic tango
Now instead of graceful moves
We trip up in the
Toxic trance
Too proud to part
In separate lifeboats
Towards the unknown lands
Our wedding rings
Rattle like enemy guns
We charge at each other with
Bayonets at our
Private Verdun bloodhouse
All the wars we waged
Every tango we didn’t tame
We battle as if
You were Boudicca and me Genghis Khan
Titanic Tango
We will fall forever than
Abandon this high tower of
Bones and skulls
On the Wheel of Karma
We build our trenchlines
Then comes this famous
Christmas Truce of WW1
One shake of hands, a cold love night
War-addicted faces bleed into
Best allies
Now chained together
Like Sahara desert and the sun
Night slashing the daytime
I’ll fight my way up Mount Suribachi for
This bitter-sweet love
You, my Esmeralda
Me, your hunchback of
Notre Dame
19.10.2023,
Bialystok city, Poland
„Love and hatred are not blind, but are blinded by the fire they themselves carry with them. What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.” –
Friedrich Nietzsche – Love Quotes and Sayings
“It’s not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
“When you trip over love, it is easy to to get up. But when you fall in love, it is impossible to stand again.” – Albert Einstein
GHOST ISLAND
For all the emotional bridges
I’ve burnt
All the hearts
I’ve hurt
Forgive the friend-foes
That forged my soul into a
Solitary stone
My spirit of pilgrim
So rogue
It yearned the monk
purifying mourn
Gunkanjima
Its watchtowers
Woven by the spirit mist
Here I leave behind
The Simulation Construct
Called our world
Gunkanjima
Billion stars shine through its sky
Each one vibrates with life
But here benethe this island shores
All the clocks just seize
Their tick-tock
Gunkanjima
Schorching skyline of dawn
Instead of new Mount Syion
Quarantine quells my will to
The highest point
No sword-battle
Baptized birth
Behind its lion gates
No love, hate or glory to
Gain
Here everything is too late
Gunkanjima
My spirit stays afloat above my eartly bones
I follow the light coming home
A Seraphim guide protects me to the point
I neither fly or fall
I’m greeted by those who
Passed away and are
Bound to be born
To learn love
I undergo
The Underworld
Its Lake of Fire
Burns the pitch-black souls
The lava Leviathans
Skin the skeletons of
Those who once
Shared no
Forgiveness or stings of remorse
To tame the tigers of my pride
I lose hope
Humbleness hums in the dark shades of light
Gunkanjima
The silk peace of stillness
Sooths my sight
Though here I have no eyes
The past, present and future
Spin into the spiral of one
The Grail of GOD
Lies inside
19.11.2024,
Bialystok city, Poland
Hashima Island (端島, or simply Hashima, as -shima is a Japanese suffix for ‘island’), commonly called Gunkanjima (軍艦島, meaning ‘Battleship Island’), is a tiny abandoned island off Nagasaki, lying about 15 kilometres (8 nautical miles) from the centre of the city. It is one of 505 uninhabited islands in Nagasaki Prefecture. The island’s most notable features are its abandoned concrete buildings, undisturbed except by nature, and the surrounding seawall. While the island is a symbol of the rapid industrialization of Japan, it is also a reminder of Japanese war crimes as a site of forced labour prior to and during World War II.
In the poem “GHOST ISLAND” Hashima is considered as a symbolic transcendental doorway between our material and spiritual worlds. The author of the poem wrote it after watching hundreds of interviews with people who died and had NDE [Near-Death Experience].
“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire
ocean in a drop.”
Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
CURSE
My home built upon
The cemetery of bones
Cursed
These who share its emotional vaults
My windows beshadowed by
The weeping willows
Sucking sorrow from
The skulls of the nameless
Soldiers of the First World War
Cursed
The Earth that bears the burden of
Its walls
Like gallows they swing their final waltz
My Home
Echoes with the tumbling
The Tower of Babel
When it falls
Black Death horsemen stampede
Through its corridors
Its dwellers soon turn into
Energy vampires at war
Night silk of silence
At dawn switches into screams and shouts of
Blood-drunk battlefields
In our thoughts
Though we wear the tunic of
The Moon and Sun
We worship the war gods of
The planet Mars
At sunrise we send legions
Against our own closest clans
My daughter and sun ready to slay
My heart who nurtured them
When out of the heavenly Samadhi
They tasted the first Earth light
Cursed
My private holy Mekka, Jerusalem and
Camelot
Its roots more demonic than
Dragons and devils
Harvesting hate in the mad mind of
Whoever dares to open its doors
Cursed
These tongues of ivy that scale its walls
When we dine
Dorian Grey’s face
Makes circles
All around
Just in thoughts
I see my Salomeia daughter
Dance to the invisible
King Herod
Her snake whim is to make
His thumb turn down
So my fate would be sealed
Like St. John the Babtist’s one
Cursed
Our Rapanui Island Home
Guarded by cold stone gods
They don’t answer our voiceless hopes
We’re left to fight or
Nowhere to go like
Dying on the street Alan Poe
He managed to glimpse
The God’s dark side
Each of us builds our own
Noah’s Ark
We all scent the Great Flood
It’s due to come to
Wipe this cursed place out
Cursed
Like Atlantis
Doomed to vanish with all its power and glory
Some day
I’m calling to God
This collective consciousness to
Expel us on an exodus to
The new Promised Land
The seven storms are bound to strike it from
The highest sky
I’m already ready to set aflame
My Cursed Troy
To the ground
Like a Berserker poet who
Lost his mind
13.12.2025,
Bialystok city, Poland
Curses haunting generations, often linked to ancestral sins or trauma, manifest as repeated negative patterns (addiction, poverty, conflict) believed to be influenced by demonic forces or negative spiritual energy, with various traditions offering prayers, rituals, or psychological methods to identify and sever these cycles, emphasizing personal choice to stop passing down toxic traits. While some religious views see these as inherited sin/guilt, others focus on breaking cycles through spiritual warfare (prayer, deliverance) or therapy to stop repeating behaviors.
„As far as my limited head can understand, in the realm of quantum everything that can happen will happen or is happening or has already happened.
Example ; you cross the road and the universe splits into an infinite number of universes where you survive or die. Each universe is slightly but uniquely different from another, maybe in two universes the only difference is that you died a split second earlier or your blood splattered on the ground a few nanometers further.
Now how would I make a plausible magic system focused on luck or forced chance, but still based on somewhat science?
Let’s say you have a curse of bad luck and you play a gambling game
The odds are 2.0 which means 50% chances of winning, thus over an infinite amount of universes you will win half the time.
Except that you have a curse, which means you lose an infinite amount of times in an infinite amount of universe almost as if in the universes with the curse your chance of winning is multiplied by zero.
Let’s call this “forced chance”
How do I make such magic system be stable, and not backfire?
I need it to create a curse of bad luck or an item, amulet of bad luck.”
Magic destroys universes.
Until you’re left with the ones where the course of action matches what you want.
„You might want to move away from quantum. “Bad luck” requires attaching some kind of mind to the victim. Something intelligent must determine which side of the coin landing up is meaningfully bad for the victim.
But if you want to stay quantum, but like Square-Cube suggested, not have this curse be a killer of universes (which is merely an alternative explanation of the information at hand right now), you could go with Copenhagen or any other theory leading to the following macroscopic effect —
The victim projects an area of influence around him that agitates others, making them jumpy and prone to distraction. This could be done by increasing the random firing of synapses. Or, synaptic firing could be suppressed, thereby dulling minds in the area of effect. Or both. In any case, with everyone nearby distracted and muddle-minded, the amount of “accidents” around the victim goes way up.
The effect could even create tiny physical tremors in the environment near the victim. This causes ropes to slip, bolts to rattle off, welds to break, precariously placed things to shift, or fragile things to just fall apart. To an observer, there are more accidental collapses and breaks around the cursed person.
But this effect is not intelligent. This kind of curse could be a useful tool- for a fee (delivered remotely) I visit your competitor’s factory, or take up a new office on Wall Street.”
The same happens for the duration of the curse. As long as the victim is cursed, the only universes in existence are the ones where things go badly for them.
19.11.2024,
Bialystok city, Poland
