John Guzlowski
@jzguzlowski.bsky.social
Writer. Poetry. Novels. Newspaper columns for oldest Polish newspaper in America!
This
There are no footnotes in this poem
No marginalia
No secrets
No truths
No sorrows
No dreams
No hopes
No metaphors
No rhymes
Just this
There are no footnotes in this poem
No marginalia
No secrets
No truths
No sorrows
No dreams
No hopes
No metaphors
No rhymes
Just this
November 13, 2025 at 12:48 PM
This
There are no footnotes in this poem
No marginalia
No secrets
No truths
No sorrows
No dreams
No hopes
No metaphors
No rhymes
Just this
There are no footnotes in this poem
No marginalia
No secrets
No truths
No sorrows
No dreams
No hopes
No metaphors
No rhymes
Just this
My self is a mystery to me
More than it is to everyone else
I see myself as a spiraling puzzle
Baked in darkness and covered in chocolate
Others see me as Mr. Blasé
More than it is to everyone else
I see myself as a spiraling puzzle
Baked in darkness and covered in chocolate
Others see me as Mr. Blasé
October 13, 2025 at 2:05 PM
My self is a mystery to me
More than it is to everyone else
I see myself as a spiraling puzzle
Baked in darkness and covered in chocolate
Others see me as Mr. Blasé
More than it is to everyone else
I see myself as a spiraling puzzle
Baked in darkness and covered in chocolate
Others see me as Mr. Blasé
The Dead?
No words
will bring them back.
Only words
will bring them back.
No words
will bring them back.
Only words
will bring them back.
October 9, 2025 at 12:39 PM
The Dead?
No words
will bring them back.
Only words
will bring them back.
No words
will bring them back.
Only words
will bring them back.
Every morning is a poem waiting to be read.
September 29, 2025 at 11:54 AM
Every morning is a poem waiting to be read.
Silence and me and Lee Zimmerman
September 22, 2025 at 10:57 AM
Silence and me and Lee Zimmerman
My life / 7
My mom spent 3 years in a slave labor camp in Germany. She never mourned the Germans who raped & beat her & then were killed by the Americans who liberated the camp
When I asked her about this, she said she never mourned bad people.
My mom spent 3 years in a slave labor camp in Germany. She never mourned the Germans who raped & beat her & then were killed by the Americans who liberated the camp
When I asked her about this, she said she never mourned bad people.
September 21, 2025 at 9:02 PM
My life / 7
My mom spent 3 years in a slave labor camp in Germany. She never mourned the Germans who raped & beat her & then were killed by the Americans who liberated the camp
When I asked her about this, she said she never mourned bad people.
My mom spent 3 years in a slave labor camp in Germany. She never mourned the Germans who raped & beat her & then were killed by the Americans who liberated the camp
When I asked her about this, she said she never mourned bad people.
WORDS
Every writer knows
words are useless.
Elie Wiesel writes Night
And still people kill
And dream of killing
And still we write
And hope the words
Will build a better dream
Every writer knows
words are useless.
Elie Wiesel writes Night
And still people kill
And dream of killing
And still we write
And hope the words
Will build a better dream
July 31, 2025 at 4:00 PM
WORDS
Every writer knows
words are useless.
Elie Wiesel writes Night
And still people kill
And dream of killing
And still we write
And hope the words
Will build a better dream
Every writer knows
words are useless.
Elie Wiesel writes Night
And still people kill
And dream of killing
And still we write
And hope the words
Will build a better dream
Buddha sits and wonders.
The world fills with the beauty
Of petals falling.
The world fills with the beauty
Of petals falling.
July 17, 2025 at 1:41 PM
Buddha sits and wonders.
The world fills with the beauty
Of petals falling.
The world fills with the beauty
Of petals falling.
Before beginning
There was ending
And before that
There was this
And before this
There was just this
The silence of bees
Waiting for dawn
There was ending
And before that
There was this
And before this
There was just this
The silence of bees
Waiting for dawn
July 2, 2025 at 4:26 AM
Before beginning
There was ending
And before that
There was this
And before this
There was just this
The silence of bees
Waiting for dawn
There was ending
And before that
There was this
And before this
There was just this
The silence of bees
Waiting for dawn
What the war taught my mom
June 23, 2025 at 2:21 PM
What the war taught my mom
100% luck.
I asked my dad how he survived the camps. He said he didn’t know. His friends were beaten to death, starved, crucified, but somehow he survived.
I asked my mom how she survived. She said a German took pity on her after raping her.
Luck saved them & gave me my life.
I asked my dad how he survived the camps. He said he didn’t know. His friends were beaten to death, starved, crucified, but somehow he survived.
I asked my mom how she survived. She said a German took pity on her after raping her.
Luck saved them & gave me my life.
June 3, 2025 at 7:53 PM
100% luck.
I asked my dad how he survived the camps. He said he didn’t know. His friends were beaten to death, starved, crucified, but somehow he survived.
I asked my mom how she survived. She said a German took pity on her after raping her.
Luck saved them & gave me my life.
I asked my dad how he survived the camps. He said he didn’t know. His friends were beaten to death, starved, crucified, but somehow he survived.
I asked my mom how she survived. She said a German took pity on her after raping her.
Luck saved them & gave me my life.
The lord don’t like
Looking in dark places
Smelling the smell
Of folks smelling worse
Than a truck stop shitter.
What he likes is the sun
Barely up in the morning
Humming sunlight
In the mountains
Where the valleys
Between them
Give off the smell
Of silence
Looking in dark places
Smelling the smell
Of folks smelling worse
Than a truck stop shitter.
What he likes is the sun
Barely up in the morning
Humming sunlight
In the mountains
Where the valleys
Between them
Give off the smell
Of silence
May 21, 2025 at 1:06 PM
The lord don’t like
Looking in dark places
Smelling the smell
Of folks smelling worse
Than a truck stop shitter.
What he likes is the sun
Barely up in the morning
Humming sunlight
In the mountains
Where the valleys
Between them
Give off the smell
Of silence
Looking in dark places
Smelling the smell
Of folks smelling worse
Than a truck stop shitter.
What he likes is the sun
Barely up in the morning
Humming sunlight
In the mountains
Where the valleys
Between them
Give off the smell
Of silence
Catte Train to Magdeburg — a poem about mynmom being taken to thw slave labor camps in germany
voetica.com/poem/13747
voetica.com/poem/13747
May 18, 2025 at 8:49 PM
Catte Train to Magdeburg — a poem about mynmom being taken to thw slave labor camps in germany
voetica.com/poem/13747
voetica.com/poem/13747
we are the endless waves
waiting for the shore
that never comes
waiting for the shore
that never comes
April 24, 2025 at 10:22 PM
we are the endless waves
waiting for the shore
that never comes
waiting for the shore
that never comes
I’ve given a lot of poetry readings.
I love when folks come up to me at the end and just say thanks.
I love when folks come up to me at the end and just say thanks.
April 20, 2025 at 1:06 PM
I’ve given a lot of poetry readings.
I love when folks come up to me at the end and just say thanks.
I love when folks come up to me at the end and just say thanks.
Saturday the rain started
and fell for 6 days.
At first, I watched it
and loved it and wanted it
to keep up forever.
There was a grayness to it
that reminded me of God’s face,
but then it wouldn’t stop
& I felt cold,
& knew that things
were ending
& there was nothing
I could do.
and fell for 6 days.
At first, I watched it
and loved it and wanted it
to keep up forever.
There was a grayness to it
that reminded me of God’s face,
but then it wouldn’t stop
& I felt cold,
& knew that things
were ending
& there was nothing
I could do.
April 9, 2025 at 12:17 PM
Saturday the rain started
and fell for 6 days.
At first, I watched it
and loved it and wanted it
to keep up forever.
There was a grayness to it
that reminded me of God’s face,
but then it wouldn’t stop
& I felt cold,
& knew that things
were ending
& there was nothing
I could do.
and fell for 6 days.
At first, I watched it
and loved it and wanted it
to keep up forever.
There was a grayness to it
that reminded me of God’s face,
but then it wouldn’t stop
& I felt cold,
& knew that things
were ending
& there was nothing
I could do.