Wioletta Grzegorzewska



With Down



The Western wind stroked
the horizon, our village suddenly Siberian.
Wires moaning, hair stiffening, extinguished.
I only hope I don’t go the way of the neighbour’s veiltail,
which dissolved in its icy bowl
like a speck of bubbling aspirin.


Silence in the dining room threading beads,
liquefying them over a stove formed of clay
after the War, which, despite its rudimentary piping,
hasn’t choked a soul in a century.


Hey you, shining porter of pure down,
drag your cart from the barn
and deliver me a load of feathers.
I will stuff them into our unearthly bedding
and never feel any cold again.




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Wrapping up


We carry ripe poppy heads. So many violets, bunched in hand.

Whispering hourglasses sift through us at the tail end of summer.

A trolley vanishes behind the mound. The battered road hammers downhill.

Dogs drag bones down back roads. Sniff the tibiae of tree roots.

Our baby-oak still clings to the hillside.

In pebbles burst the multi-celled hearts of berries.

Ants lick sunlight off the chalky earth.

Rivers veer off underground – nothing for me here – says grandpa.




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Pips



I enter the printers with a basket of cherries.
The steel gate bearing sulphur etchings,
banners holding up the nation’s future.
The nation stumbles over woodchip tiling,
holds reams of paper, still warm,
which will only reach full maturity in office.


Night shifts crawl from intercity coaches,
stamp dates on time sheets.
Father smokes at the reception desk,
his hands shaking over the console
as he opens and shuts the gates by remote.


Ever since the day I discovered
that he is mortal nothing has passsed between us but time.*


* from Robert Lowell



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Wioletta Grzegorzewska Born in 1974 in South Poland, came to England in 2006 and is now living on the Isle of Wight. A poet, author of short stories; Silva Amor. Her writings were published in the main Polish literary magazines and on the poetry websites, recently in anthology of Polish women poetry; Solistki. Every five years she published poetry books: The Controlled Imagination ( Wyobraźnia kontrolowana,1998), The Parentelas (Parantele, 2003), Orinoko (2008). Wioletta is currently preparing a new book, Other Turns of Events (Inne obroty rzeczy). Polish critic, Karol Maliszewski, commented her poetry: Grzegorzewska proved, that the tryst of the language with world is possible.” [G. udowodniła, że schadzka języka ze światem jest możliwa]

W. Grzegorzewska

Wioletta Grzegorzewska Ur. 9 lutego 1974 r. Poetka. Pochodzi z Rzeniszowa (woj. ślaskie). Mieszka w Ryde na wyspie Wight. Opublikowała tomy wierszy: “Wyobraźnia kontrolowana” (1998), “Parantele” (2003), “Orinoko” (2008).