From "Use Your Brain" - new poem series 2024 (English / Polish) 2

Into the firewater pit, secluded

tired of visions, high on music

still catching up with the hummingbird

there are voices on the highway

drifting with the rising spirit of error

excluded, tortured by the free morning dawn

out of the firewater pit

and into the scarab pan

Egypt must have been a hit

drawn

higher

the pyramid lord, the eye of Ra

such sculptures could not exist in your brain

dancing on LSD cubes, torrent, near the vibration

of pre-eternal sand

there are voices in the chamber

echo one, echo two

we press the record button

and try not to mess up

everything, us, the planet again

we are naked

stirred at dawn of excitement

***

Do studni z wodą ogniową, w odosobnieniu

zmęczony wizjami, naćpany muzyką

wciąż gonię kolibra

na autostradzie słychać głosy

dryfujące wraz z rosnącym duchem błędu

wykluczeni, torturowani wolnym porannym świtem

ze zbiornika wody ogniowej

i na patelnię ze skarabeuszem

Egipt musiał być hitem

pociągnięty

wyższy

władca piramidy, oko Ra

takie rzeźby nie mogłyby istnieć w twoim mózgu

taniec na kostkach LSD, torrent, blisko wibracji

z przedwiecznego piasku

w izbie słychać głosy

powtórz raz, powtórz dwa

wciskamy przycisk nagrywania

i staramy się nie zepsuć

wszystkiego, nas, planety ponownie

jesteśmy nadzy

poruszeni o świcie podniecenia

From "Use Your Brain" - new poem series 2024 (English / Polish)

Arrows of sun pinpoint the car

it drives on thru the desert

in the desert there are cacti

I will feed on them in the morning

sweetness of my favorite nectar

dense like meat

spoon head

military kiddo

Arrows of his gun pinpoint the wanderer
he is now shadows

the arrow, nuclear in essence, leaves

a mess of broken suburbs

behind

dense like meat

knife girl

dancing in the shallows of my brain.

***

Strzały słońca wskazują samochód

jedzie dalej przez pustynię

na pustyni są kaktusy

pożywię się nimi rano

słodycz mojego ulubionego nektaru

gęstego jak mięso

główka łyżki

wojskowy dzieciak

Strzały z jego pistoletu wskazują wędrowca

jest teraz cieniem

strzała, w istocie nuklearna, opuszcza

bałagan zrujnowanych przedmieść

gęsta jak mięso

dziewczyna z nożem

tańczy w płytkich obszarach mojego mózgu.

"Pluto" - song lyrics.

Neon glow paints the Pluto night
Elephantine mama, a cosmic sight
Forget the savannah, the jungle's heat
This mama's birthing on a frozen street

No rumbling calf, no leathery hide
But a symphony trapped trembling inside
A million wings, tucked in her womb
Sparrows dreaming of a different moon

Ice shatters, a feathery peep
Tiny beaks crack the frosty sleep
She snorts jazz, a lullaby cool
As the sparrow army plays hopscotch on her wrinkled tool

No trumpeting fanfare, just the wind's moan
A million heartbeats, a symphony unknown
Cosmos winks, a starry display
For the mama birthing in a cosmic ballet

Forget the herd, the stampede's loud thunder
This mama's got a million chicks to wonder
Pluto nights, bathed in pale blues
Elephants and sparrows, singin' the cosmic news

2 new poems (2023/10/01). English / Polish

"Zeit"

Listening to the beginning of the world
Shaky rhythms, simple words
Shots of light from a dying bird
There is calmness and peace inside
There is a current
There are active brains in the desert
I draw a circle in the sand
And wake up
Solid mixture of flesh and passion
Fresh on the wings of time

"I Forgot"

All the men look like the prime minister
All women like his wife
This is danger zone
Police helicopters circling in
Vultures of the waste
Harbingers of horrid
Clarinets of death
This is bad country
The young are wastedly locked
In old uncertain future
Dealing with brain crime
Silent guns the triumphant
Where is love in this locale
Where? - I forgot.

***

„Zeit”

Słuchanie początku świata
Drżące rytmy, proste słowa
Ujęcia światła umierającego ptaka
Wewnątrz panuje spokój i cisza
Jest prąd
Na pustyni są aktywne mózgi
Rysuję okrąg na piasku
I budzę się
Solidna mieszanka mięsa i pasji
Świeża na skrzydłach czasu

"Zapomniałem"

Wszyscy mężczyźni wyglądają jak premier
Wszystkie kobiety lubią jego żonę
To jest strefa niebezpieczna
Policyjne helikoptery krążą
Sępy odpadów
Zwiastuny okropności
Klarnety śmierci
To jest zły kraj
Młode są marnotrawione w zamknięciu
W starej niepewnej przyszłości
Radzenie sobie z przestępczością mózgową
Ciche działa triumfują
Gdzie jest miłość w tym miejscu
Gdzie? - Zapomniałem.

"Great American Adventure" (New poem, 2023/09/30).

Dawn starts at noon here
Traces of snow birds
In the middle of highway summer
Cars and pubs
Honesty of pen
Advice from an older guy with a hot dog
Sauce kills
You should try it sometime
Guiding their way through records
Books and memorabilia
Colorful characters
Asking for this, hoping for that
Not really sure what they want
Lost ones, broken free and dancing
To the rattling bones
Directed without meaning
Where are they hoping to find
Who and when
Do they hope to arrive
Or stop arriving at all
When life marks them unsafe
And you thought you were homeless
In this great American adventure

"Passe" (New poem, 2023/09/30).

Your eyes abandoned ships
Cool acidic scent of heroin
I'm not sure what I like
Eating camembert, drinking lemonade
Thinking of the ships past me
I used to be a poet
Had the guitar jangle of morn
Passe

Gift of you
We should be the sun
When urban tides crash in
Preserving end of observation
Your hands and lips a captain
But don't you think

Your course is stolen
Ages ago we set sails
For wild and different young lands
Jungles of Maya
We used to roam together
Now it's sands and bricks
Sifting through the dim moon
Guiding new lovers
We are passe
Get used to / rid of that.

"Nothing" ("lost" poem, 2008).

When we drink coffee
this is philosophical coffee

when we burp
this is a philosophical burp

when we breathe
we breathe philosophically

when we say the most trivial words
we say them
philosophically

when we write them down
we do it for a reason

when we scratch our calf
driving away mosquitoes
we drive them away
philosophically

this is the only (or as much) difference we have
and nothing

"Heliotropism"

I feed and swell
from new paths
non-elected
proper

I digest myself in the sun of the thicket of flavors
I wake up again

I let the ribbons stroke me
orange
gaining strength from everyone
brushes

I grow around my own
meager shores
adorned with cirrus coolness

I digest myself in my juices
aroma

from new paths
I am getting old slowly
I'm turning gray
though the face still craves the sun
only to him
I look

in the meteo sauce yourself
I oppose
I'm cutting myself to shreds
azure

3 poems, 2023/01/18.

The moon, a story

In every man's prison, the demise of god
the stranglehold of life
death comes nearer
in this sunken theater on Sunday
there are times of drunken perfection
there is bourbon in the moon
there is moon in the glass
there is glass behind the wheel
driving to LA
Friday night
where you hope to find pieces
of cacti sisters waving
in a sudden epiphany of doom
there are some who are lost
and to them you have to offer your dance
dance on the verge
of your car
of love
of a story
when time is running backwards
and all your mind wells are dry
true,
you are the underdog here
but you give hope
and light's sunrise
when the moon is total stoned

Static Peace

There are many visitors recently
in the arcana of disaster
lured by the disco stench
of the post-hippie 70s
there are many wars, and people are dying of hunger
elsewhere on the planet
but here, in static peace
there are chances weaved
and water and beer and vodka
are drunk happily
how long will it last you think
you wipe your ass in the morning
and stare at your wife
her picture in the toilet
there, across the tiles
you are rich
you are well-developed
but I tell you, son
bury yourself with the rockets
your richer cousins are shooting at the world
and soon ricochets will blind you
and bury you below the waste
and then you will notice
me and my friends
gathered inside this house
on real static peace
high like the weeds of the city

Amazing

I once was invited to a room with no windows
green lights flashing
trash on the floor
some shared books
and the scent of weed
there was a pianist there
who said she loves me
and then she told me there was a party, hey
and if you feel like
coming over
you'll do your best
to stay
but I did not believe her
I left this room with no windows
and tried to find another room
in reflections of  a man
I saw a ladder
leading upwards
to a room with no doors
and then I felt enlightened
and I wanted to stay there
unbothered
except maybe some friendly calls
from winos and hookers
but blues has its price
and solitude is amazing
yes, brother
isn't it amazing

The TRANSMITTER Symbol explained.

My new album, "Transmitter", is coming to Ramble Records sometime early 2023. The album will be released on CD and digital, and will feature 20 tracks curated by the Ramble head himself, Mike Sill. The exclusive artwork is by Justin Jackley, and he also designed four symbols for me to use for the album cover. Earlier this year I have decided to use one of them as my new logo.

The "Transmitter Symbol" as I call it, is very European in its nature, and it visually combines everything I love about Kraftwerk and Magma. You might remember the simple yet effective Kraftwerk designs, and the simple, yet striking Magma logo also worn as necklaces by members of the French band.

This simple symbol has a similar effect, and it sums up perfectly all of the "genres" of music I touch and perform since the very beginning. "I am just a transmitter".

So, that's it, the TRANSMITTER logo, my new and long-time logo for all things Kaufmann and Majdecki-Janicki. Better than any photo, or a logo with text, a logo that will never grow old. Thank you, Justin!

You can contact Justin and see his amazing work @ http://justinjackley.com