Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

They say to “forgive and forget” But forgetting is impossible When someone has wounded your heart The cuts don’t disappear, they sting More faintly, over time But to forgive? That’s within the realm Of meek human possibility Not saying that it’s easy to do Forgiveness crumples the ego When we’ve been wronged We want to lash out and destroy An eye for an eye Hurt word for hurt word It takes an almost saintly resilience To say, I forgive you I love you, and wish you All the blessings in life For that is true forgiveness  

I want to howl at the moon And be wild, be free Take these stilettos of my feet And feel the sand in between my toes Chip my nails and let my hair grow long Sing from deep within my diaphragm  Not caring how bad I sound  After all, only the bluebirds can hear me I want to spend the day drenched in the sun's heat The evenings scavenging for berries Then fall asleep under a canopy  Of a thousand twinkling stars  Is this what freedom tastes like? Sweet nectar and earthy moss? Fuzzy caterpillars tickling my ankles As I'm picking mushrooms that are safe to eat And throwing them in my basket To be wild, be free To live in the forest is a dream A landscape in my mind A regression to a time before I was born Where we didn't wear stilettos 

Like a walnut, my heart's sealed shut No one but I can crack it open But I am always stuck in a rut Desperately tired of hoping For a decade, my muscles have been tense My poor body and mind constricted Like a snake, looking into my soul, intense My own heart's gotten me conflicted So I self-medicate with ramen noodles and wine And push the uncomfortable thoughts deep down But there's so much it can bear, this heart of mine And not enough noise for the bad thoughts to drown There is no running from your soul There is no solice in denial Sooner or later you have to take control So that you're ready to walk down the aisle Yes, walnuts are tough to crack But with love and patience it can be done When you get there, don't look back Know that you have won Yes, healing hurts, my heart's an open sore Admitting it is hard to do But now my heart's an open door 'Cause you love me, and I love you, too

My mom used to say: that ’s the way the world works, hun You can’t make friends with everyone Some will love you, some will pretend Others will be with you right ‘til the end That’s the way it all works, dear Friends close, and enemies near But even when everyone around you will say That you won’t make it, that you haven’t the brain Even when one hundred people will boo you away You’ve got to believe in yourself, that’s the only way The self-preservation, the fight in you, you see You can’t let them tell you that you’re not free You’re an artist, a scholar, you’re special to me You are incredible, but not everyone will agree Though it’s not fair, that’s the way it all works Some slave away and then the others get perks You don’t get to choose where you come from, you know But you can decide where it is that you want to go You are a sunflower, you just need to find the right rays That will set your true glory ablaze You are a bluebird, but you’re ...

Watching the VHS of my parent's wedding day for the fifth time brings a smile to my face, but a pang of unsease to my stomach. My mother has told me the story a million times: about how she met my dad in school through mutual friends, about their early dates at the movies, their inevitable falling in love with each other. The grainy image from the '90s video tape shows my mom, in her long-sleeved, lacy white wedding gown, a giant smile plastered on her face, and dad, who to me looks the same as now, but with fewer grey hairs. The event takes place in a beautiful cathedral in my hometown in Poland, my mom and dad surrounded by family and friends. A happy occassion. A momentous occassion. So why do I feel uneasy? Well, it might have to do with the fact that my parents have been divorced for the past 15 years. You can't blame me for having a pessimistic view on marriage. Did you know that Canada has one of the highest divorce rates in the world? Yet, I tried to suppress these ...

I'll never forget the warmth of my grandma's old gas stove In the cramped two-bedroom apartment that always smelled like smoke My grandpa would sit in his room with a cigarette in his left hand Stroking his coarse grey beard while solving a crossword puzzle My grandma would be shuffling around in her kapcie , house slippers Baking and cooking and frying and banging pots and pans Boiling strawberry jam with fresh fruits picked from her dzialka , yard And pickling cucumbers and cabbage and mushrooms in glass jars I'll never forget the sweet smell of nalesniki wafting from the kitchen In my paternal grandfather's loft, up on the fifth floor Cottage cheese crepes fried in oil, dipped in jam It was my favourite breakfast as a kid My grandpa's dog, Grot, would wag his tail and beg for crumbs Then we'd go for walks to the old town  Strolling along the cobblestoned streets of Olsztyn, my hometown The sun warming me up on a bright summer day I'll never forget my gre...

Looking out the window, I see peoples' lives In tiny lit boxes, apartments in the sky Everyone surrounded by four white walls Walls which have no emotions at all Walls which have kept us so disconnected Not a single soul has not been affected By the loneliness, the frustration The tech divide of our generation I see people on the platform, eyes on their phone Crushing candies, texting their partners back home What if we stopped and decided to be here? To be present and sober, mind in the clear? To be rid of the walls and free of the screens To remember what true happiness means The people living in apartments in the sky That is all of us, that's you and I What's the meaning of it all? Are we alone? We won't find the answers to that on our phone Google can't tell you if you've found the one You can't game away your anxiety none You can't binge watch your emotions away Sooner or later, you'll have to pay To leave the walls, to take a risk To see all th...