JAZZ ME BLUES (EXILE DEUTSCHLAND!) The seraph, the tempest, in cobbled sky avert in milky mourning thumbs up, 23 still wedded under hope signs Strands and days of marriage jazz your blues out of the moon cheering wrecks in harvest Starlight reclaims mind's burden suicide hipsters drown where nightfalls blow Soul's fire showers stigmata whirled in sands scythes in the whirlwind driven to flame Fountains pitched in the lightning screaming exile Deutschland! while mercy reigns on Saturday heaven Body be our pride black sex chalk stain lions in lettering light hunting penthouse pain Palms crash your madrigal flesh granite soul a quarter of earth you’re ink sketch Christ unshapeable Exile Deutschland! for the years we spent on bitter surf THE SHADOW BOYS Wake up to the burden feel pain in everything wild Polaroid electric smile Round formless river eating herself drinking with sadly late some enduring in parade of poker True fat age shows through winter covers tight family suits Stormy days of heavy past gather round mouth meat hearing fellow sounds of a rat reel Money, air, eccentric ink with little sun painted squeals brown bowdlerized dinners rose to prove you’re eating noise Night knell for the clowns hard-earned peace diminished in clattering thoughts We suddenly stop stealing savage states hitching strange rags of times tuned with low sailor days’ cravat One frightful April policeman laughing at a nameless death climbed, in face anguish to the silence jury doodling: talk of the pigs Cold everything, muffled sick shelved to watch worried women insects, booze blue, burnt blankets The frantic wait of sharp cruel dogs dead city thirst war sick divers playing the old patriotic drum On far German deserts of circus love in begging eyes, serving the glare wheel you soberly walk round twirling of words memorizing the shadow boys’ heaven YOU DON’T EXIST Murmur of leaden wings dead edge of a coffin Thru whispers mad we know you Little pitiful body death a warm strange hand in the night Between incense and the dark blood is the flame you burn In waking moments carefully watching the blade Rarify ecstasy now then you don’t exist BOMBAY Ashes she describes her white and smallest you light unwraps your head every ornament of intellect childlike, translated larvae Guiding lady hybrids thru satisfactory ages burning sand in your eyes days to their palm anxious, demoralized nights Simple cracks, like us subtle to destiny practice monotony against the shades of reply this black, nauseous leather Parting with the quiet life long, indigenous months make me feel resigned but I hold my true Bombay in words timidly carved YIDDISH GHETTO FLOWER Yiddish ghetto flower old twilight bird searching eyes in irony of vision Cities forgotten in velvety gleaming night are slow side phosphorus flesh psalm Ridiculous, gone gleaming without a world as ancient darkness saddles our thought Empty sunken stones parade red words creeping up our fine cold skulls blocking books and harmonies Garbage goblets, mirrors dull, ephemeral beauty shocks the stars, screaming grapes on vermilion black surface
A.J. Kaufmann is a young poet and songwriter hailing from Poznan, Poland, whose debut poetry chapbook, "Siva in Rags", was published on June 28, 2008 with a small American publisher, Kendra Steiner Editions. Since then he has published lots of poetry chapbooks in the USA, UK and Poland, including “Saint of Kreuzberg”, “Cut-up 2010” and “I’m Already Not Here”. His debut studio album, "Second Hand Man", appeared on the Polish music market on October 2, 2011.