Project Description

Gregory Spis

Gregory Spis

Gregory Spis, a poet and a writer. His flagship poem, ‘Short-feature tattoos’ got him the first award in the poetry competition called ‘Any Wonders’, organised in London, by PhD Urszula Chowaniec and Anna Maria Mickiewicz. Most of his poems were published in Literary Diary by Polish Writers Abroad Association, in Polish Observer, Poetry Kit and others. One of his very controversial poem ‘Tramway to Croydon’ was published in weekly magazines Cooltura and New Time (Nowy Czas) in London. Some of his poems were also published in Poland, in Poetry Today (Poezja Dzisiaj), edited by A. Nawrocki. ‘A Rush Hour Crash on the Tube’ is one of his poems showing his fantastic and zany satirical verve. A selection of his poems, entitled ‘Out of the Cocoon’ was published in London by KaMPe Library associated with Polish Writers Abroad and in the poetry anthology, together with his friends, entitled ‘Five from KaMPe’. ‘The Interpreter’s Diary’ is another example of his rib-tickling satirical skills showing the crucial changes in polish society of the 90’s till 2007. Some of the passages were published in Literary Diary by Polish Writers Abroad in London. Besides, he translates poetry and fiction. He translated from Italian into Polish Le avventure di Guizzardi by Gianni Celati, some passages published in a Polish quarterly Literature in the World (Literatura na Świecie). He also speaks Italian, French and German. Some of his poems were translated into Russian and Bulgarian and other languages. Recently Interviewed by Peter Evans and Ted Smith-Orr in Radio Croydon presenting his poems in Poetry Evening and in Polish Radio Dublin. He is a member of a Polish Writers Abroad Association and two poetry groups: KaMPe & 4th Floor in POSK, Hammersmith, London.

November, 2008
Millennium Bridge, London

thrown out of the cocoon

the day got angry with the dawn
instilling the eyes with the grey light

thrown out of the cocoon
I don’t believe in my own wings
which colour has rubbed into the blood
into the rough skin of the day

there’s left but a piece of me
a bit of warmth in the palm of time
that’s gonna close up
I don’t know

thrown out of the cocoon
I know
the birds cannot so easily
paint the freedom of the blue sky
at sunrise

it’s been a long time ago since
I left St. Paul’s Cathedral behind my back
Tate Modern is the future
unknown ways
silence of stars
calm of leaves
flowing in my veins with ease
like a hot wind
and you
in a summer dress
with a wind in your hair
a smile on your face
winking your cat’s eyes
you know
what I am dreaming about