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Włodzimierz Holsztyński 
Wlodzimierz Holsztynski (b.1942-3-3 in Nizny Tagil, Ural Mountains) was raised and educated in Warsaw, where he stasrted to work at the University of Warsaw. Left Poland on 1969-1-20. Continued teaching at universities in the USA and Canada (or working at institutes) until 1978, and only sporadically afterward. Works for industry since 1977, mostly as a consultant. Writes poetry since 1959, also in English starting in 1981. Participates in Internet since 1989 (earlier in intranet). Moved many times, for instance on the American continent. back to my main page

Poe tr y 

    Poetry, you're a difficult lover
    I know you prefer it outdoors
    You desire cold shores and tall mountains
    Sun burning, rain camouflage and soft snow

    You like fireplay randomly cracking
    Ornaments moving on the wall
    Puffed pillows under your convex buttocks
    Never worried about closing your doors
  Presented poems:

Poe tr y
across the continent
difficult poems
a difficult summer
men don't cry
© 1991





  in the narrow space 
  between the sheets
  there is love




across the continent

 driving dreaming in fog
 about a redhead with green lights
 los angeles is still asleep
 miami already awake




                     *       *

     from the pond of the night a small green frog
     lands on my window-screen outside

     you live without that someone
     who used to be your life

     and now that summer frog every night ...



 a difficult summer 

thru the other end of a telescope you are a small green frog your piercing jewish eyes are two black dots pardon... ? of course... no telescope... black ink has replaced the air outside the frog is real comes to my window every night H.California 1990-12-07 * * * the stone-wind nowhere seen but the small bellies of the dying ripples on the water pregnant with her who was pregnant with them she was the stone-wind who delivered my pain across the mirror H.New Mexico 1996-05-12

   men don't cry

       our backs almost touch
       the (recovery) house wall i sit
       in a chair and my father
       in a (wheel) chair we look
       at the tree across the street
       they don't grow that tall and strong
       in Poland he says (in Polish of course)
       but U did i think (without words of course)
       and i say in California
       they're still taller and
       i wait for lightning to strike the tree
       in this fine weather in this fine weather
       a van has shattered
       my father's leg and broke his neck
       when he was crossing Plymouth Road

       he had almost recovered then after a fall
       he broke his neck again a lightning
       in California striked a five thousand year old tree
       and there was tree no more
       he is only eighty six
       we sit in the shadow
       the creamy protective collar around his neck
       somehow reflects light

Wlodzimierz Holsztynski
Michigan, 1998-06-25

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