Poetry

Stories, observations, scenes from life. Coming to me unexpectedly, at any hour of the day or night. I note them down, edit, search for the correct meaning, and look for rhythm. I look for the final form. Sometimes I succeed.
I write my poems in my mother tongue – Slovak. I was 10 when the English language entered my life. Since then, I have continuously learned, communicated, and from time to time even thought in English. That is why some of my artworks have English titles.

The Last Wave

The Last Wave

I will wait

For a deep breath

I let my hair loose

Membranes will grow

Between my fingers

I will enjoy each single molecule

Of water

Of fish

Of plankton

I will let myself dissolve

Like salt

And I will send you a high wave to the coast

Oh

Did not I mention to you it is the last one?

Illustrations of this poem HERE, HERE and HERE.

You cannot escape yourself

You cannot escape yourself

At night the sun

Hides into a well

Searching for

Its own shadow

A bit of chill

Looking forward

Cold water

To dive its rays into

Refreshen

Parched guts

It only can find there

Molten space

And the sun itself

Illustration of this poem

The Account

The Account

Two more weeks

Of hard work

To gain more wealth

Then

One by one

You withdraw from the bank

Sweated T-shirts

And wet dreams

Ilustration of this poem

The Truth is

The Truth is

A big
A small
Lie

Sit next to each other
Say
Nothing

Whatever they´d say
Was a lie

I breed them
As they stay quiet

Illustration of this poem