Joanna Kalinowska, ITALY / POLAND

LIVING ...

I live with what is left of the spirit of my childhood
I wake up and see the sun again
the morning greets me
allowing for new discoveries during the trip
I have grown little bit
but I am always this cloud of dreams
I move forward because the world is spinning
and if I remain motionless
I will be on the dark side of the moon
where a man cannot see anything
I go because I do not want to be late
for to go forward means to read and write
study life and understand the world
 I go to meet the upcoming dreams
and when I wander enough
to be able to stop I will turn around and see
that I am that girl
I  explored  the meaning of cognition
explored the things that faced me
and that's why I know those who are like me, like us,
have wings
that lift them above the clouds of reality
rising into this area of ​​heaven
where all dreams are beautiful
and it is possible to touch them


TEARS

when a girl cries, someone will always be found
who kisses her tears to give her comfort
her sadness is nice as her smooth white neck

in the droplets of tears glimpse the hope of the sun
which will dry them tomorrow
and let her run away and take off
unnecessary coat of sadness

when an old woman cries
in her heavy tears reflect
black years of sacrifice and forgetfulness
memory is  like a heavy old coat
whose damage is thrown away

the white walls are silent
the bitter taste of salt flows down
to the corners of the mouth along the rut of wrinkles
her sadness irritates
as if its touch could contaminate
a perfect picture of our life

she is alone
and only the death will come to comfort her


WALL

the wall is just ... just ...
facing you and it has a closed window
on the right there is photo of your mother as a young girl
with a look and smile of a startled doe
which resembles our daughter's smile so much

on the windowsill there are flowers and a statuette of elf bought in Ireland
it was our honeymoon and you woke me up with kisses
it seemed that we were beginning a journey of life holding hands

it's clear that the wall is there, it exists like me
sometimes you will stop with a blind sight
but I have a heart that has never stopped to loving you

do not pretend that nothing has happened,
do not ignore me in this way
kill this silence before it finishes us
it is a silence that has a magnetically destructive power
and a beam of radiation suppressing every sound

get angry ... raise your voice…cry ... cry
I am here, in front of you,
 How can you not hear me?
Look into my eyes, you do not see me,
honey, you do not see me anymore?
show passion ... anger ... jealousy ...
any reaction but show it to me
I'm screaming and you're silent
with unseeing eyes and closed mouth

silence...
outside the window, the rain stuns the grass
heads of flowers rise ... and only one tear

I close my eyes ... silence ... I disappear ...
only the white wall remains

Joanna Kalinowska has spent many years in Poland. She moved to Italy sventeen years ago. She writes and publishes in two languages, Polish and Italian. She loves these two countries. They are her homelands. Her book “Ascoltando Azzurro –Wsłuchana w błękit” was written so that people who speak different languages can express the same feelings. She has Three volumes of her poetry to her credit and her poems are a part of various anthologies and magazines. She arranged “The Amici Italia-Polonia Association”. Its headquarters there is in Taranto — the city where she lives and works. Besides being a teacher, she is also a translator and an activist of the Polish community. A member of the Warsaw Association of Literature’s Translators., Joanna also works for the Italian literary-cultural group “La Vallisa”and is associated with the magazine of this group. She is the initiator and organizer of many cultural and social events.


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