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ikarus my sunshine



who had come up with this idea? and who had let go? in other words: who had been standing behind it? and what price was paid at the end for it? in spite of all considerations, it was incomprehensible how - not, for God's sake - but: how in the world to all the you could designate a bus so a Hungarian bus also of the whole, real and literalness entire eastern block of Schwerin to Vladivostok, from Bucharest to gdansk and even go to Cuba would - this was the proverbial melancholy of Hungary, the Krzysztof Varga described, sang and admired in his books, did not occur in which the coach, however?

It all fits together not: the eternal indestructible ikarus-buses, which are more and more become a symbol of the Soviet bloc and of the failure of socialism, after they have survived these two: it was the project a high-flying, and it's failed, along it must have been flying high, a bus after that mythological figure to designate who fail the after high flight embodies more than any other, so that at least the question could arise whether not that a rebuke would have been more for the other, and to give socialism still would, would have the bus only daedalus or ariadne or Hercules called - and if they were not names may even have been more appropriate, even Sisyphus would have done, Sisyphus, more than any other - - and the irony was the story only that which had ikarus buses socialism now has been going on for twenty years and implied a further million driven miles on their engines roaring their accumulated stossdaemfern baggy and their fateful name carried through the streets of Eastern Bloc, over the eternal concrete slabs and prefabricated housing through the endless endless horizon to horizon ... and not stabbed comfort, but out of character every other contemporary bus, all one's and all solaris, who used futuristic sometimes going up in flames for no reason, as it seemed - so you spaetsommermorgen but on a sunny almost could be a little sentimental, because a sunny spaetsommermorgen so damn appear seductive promise in a time, moved into the long casts and the high flying in vast remote seem to be the year in a spaetsommermorgen the 70's, as the orange back light after all, exactly the same and not significantly less bright and full of promise, was as palpable nah zu sein gewesen Schienen. womit apology keiner das wort des totalitarismus gesprochen werden soll, nur festgestellt wird: die ist tot ideologies. you blieb, war enttaeuschung viel, ein wenig und die nostalgie alte Wahrheit von Ernst Bloch, was es mit Kindheit und hat sich auf heimat. ikarusse fahren und die weiter.

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death poetry

poetry died 08th May 2010 at 20.08 at the hands of the network operator Orange:

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little story of love tram V

war es ein Mittwoch, dem zwischen den an haltestellen Traugutta park and ulica Bonifraterska the trams were still over half an hour, direction-Annopol, Zeran and gocław. It was no accident, it had a given accident. A car had collided with a tram. the car was a Mercedes, not new but freshly cleaned and on the passenger seat were a tulip bouquet of red and an even packaged razors, Gillette, bought in a kiosk at the Gdansk train station, with handwritten price tag. in the accident was a tram in the involved line 18, from Służewiec after Zeran Wschodnie, one of those old cars from the 60's, and in winter are either not completely old heats, while from the windows that can open in the summer the trip, so that one of the driving wind through the hair. one of those cars that look like old-fashioned and cozy that one of them expected anything evil. the driver of the Mercedes died in the accident to death. handed it in the newspaper for a note in the local news.

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little story of love tram IV

are of course the applications they spring from the second to have the late happiness, knew the new beginning. They will approve the budget in monthly magazines, which are the high-gloss appearance only on the envelope carrying about recipes and household tips and stories from real life encounters on improved newsprint, and now they were hand so when. will have smiled anyway, and maybe they would have said what you just as thought. maybe not, maybe they are not even had time to wonder why and what for, whether it would be worth it and whether it applies an experimental or a mistake. and whether this was the last chance or a big mistake.
after a few months they have yet to be agreed. on a Wednesday, which stood in her little calendar with the red plastic cover from the pharmacy, it was September, but still sunny and warm, and he wanted to pick her up after work by car, they should stop in wait for him. she was excited since it was not like youth, she laughed at herself when she went out of turn to the hairdresser, the glasses submitted by the optician in the morning and left too long in front of the wardrobe was and wondered what to wear them. she was looking for a long time its most beautiful earrings out and even had the powder compact in the hand, but then they just thought that the old in their now nothing helped.
perhaps can give it from a colleague after work a cigarette, which she did sometimes, and has been tireless abschnippend with the thumb, the ash-smoked. she waited, she was a little nervous. She counted her steps to the concrete slabs at the bus stop, they had to get home and milk. she found herself as one of the other purchased a tulip bluetenblatt after the demolition. oma! the grandchild said reproachfully.

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little story of love tram III

be what they were talking? ordinariness likely . Littlenesses they will have told him about the daughter, and grandchildren of the ones that had become so great and you both went to school. He will have spoken of my colleagues on the work he did for years, and the director, who could not stand well. They talked of the garden, when they picked the currants, and when she makes jam, and he told the car which had to be repaired. they sat still dare in the back and always side on the left, two sit behind each other, they forward, half turned to the side, feet neatly into the black orthopedic shoe next to each other and the knee-compressed, even if they long ago no skirts and no kniestruempfe longer wore white, and he refused after her forearms on the set of her seat so that his shoulder touched their hands or sometimes their hair when the strands of the ponies neatly behind the ear and stroked her glasses geraderueckte. it felt like a little girl when she was sitting there in the tram and in their pocket phone was looking after, because had been ringing somewhere in the tram a mobile phone.
and she was looking for anyway, even if they knew it was not her phone, and he searched the pockets of his jacket after his, so they could plug together then use telephone their heads like sechsjaehrige child at the kitchen table, behind the whisper back for the parents. perhaps they even from and to each other played the ringtones on their phones not quite new, amused and ashamed at the same time and finally almost embarrassed by the volume of which she could never remember where you put them quieter. and of course it was not about the phones, but about the other to say something in his ear, his hand on the shoulder or arm and to place him quite casually - perhaps - to stroke across the cheek. maybe they have held hands sometimes, for a few minutes, unobtrusive, so it could see no one who knew her, perhaps.
had only started it because of her, shave in the evening, still in operation before he went from work to home and it was him no matter that his colleagues laughed at the aftershave that at one time was in his locker, next to the old razor blades to the vice and the bristly brush. they had once been painted in the ground very easily on the cheek, as he had noticed how he had become careless with the shave. and he would have done much, so she pushed him again so casual about the cheek so that she admired how smooth his skin was and how good he smelled, and so they asked if he would have bought a new razor, and only then and the only reason he would finally really buy a new shaver.

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little story of love tram II

they were always very formal. Sometimes they smiled to each other furtively, if opposite on the other side of the car, a young couple sat the girl on the floor of the young. it would have not given their time, which no one would have dared. now they were too old for that. then she smiled embarrassed because they both had the same thought.
once they had met since they were both in the city move and they were both alone, but they have greeted in a friendly way and talk a few minutes and lunch are not next to each other in the left or to the pastry. she would later ask us why, why is she gone, although the dental appointment was a week later, and all the shopping already done, and from grandchild to the the school was often two hours time. they would have taken in the presence of their respective families, they had not known each other, that was an unspoken agreement between them, they needed no justification.
they were both wearing wedding rings any more. she looked a man always, as the first hands on this, and they now saw very carefully whether a man wearing a wedding ring or how long ago he had taken him. He carried his years have been not more, because he no longer fitted, with a wedding ring but, he said, one could not just leave to make a new one. his wife had not even noticed.
they would have asked someone, they would have responded that they ring at work bothered him constantly and if they took off, they would still remember him one day, in the locker or the ladies room, and what this would be it but never asked for someone. she wore it only once in the month when she went to confession, if the priest through the grid but took one look at her folded hands, by the sins they murmured dutifully tend their mostly futile. the trams were not in it before. fair after they will have gone into the kitchen and the food have set up. the wedding ring fell with a slight rattle in the night schmuckkaestchen on the table. Over the years she looked at him more often. have met

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little story I love the tram

you must be in the tram. in a tram on the line 18, from Służewiec after Zeran Wschodnie, on a sunny day at the bus stop Traugutta park. in one of these wagons from the 60 years old, upholstered with soft and the windows, that can be retracted during the trip, so that one of the wind blowing through your hair. they dare old that are so round and cuddly like a bug and so old-fashioned that it is hard to imagine that they were once new, modern and progressive, and always seeming awaken, as they would fit only museum trips or for, to one at some point notice that they are sure to see too often in the streets.
they have thus met in the tram, on a sunny day in May, when even the lilac and the chestnut are blooming and everything looked like it would be a wonderful summer. she looked up later, probably in their calendar, because she had a habit of this, in one of those little red plastic-bound booklet from the pharmacy, and tried to remember what a weekday been. It will not succeeded. they will have a few times and looked counted, but without result, they knew only that there is no friday, but had never been sunny and warm.
he already sat in the alley, as she got. almost all were places available, yet he stood up and offered her his own to. she was so surprised and embarrassed that they are actually offered and accepted on his was sitting, and further they did not know what to do. He stood beside her and watched her as she sat down, he let himself down on the seat directly behind her. they did not know what to say, she smiled a little, but mostly they looked out the window. as she got on her bus stop, he got up again, bowed half and wished her a nice evening. she thanked him and got out, and then she sat a quarter-hour stop in at the wartehaeuschen until she remembered that she still had to buy milk.
they have not met again the next day. It took a while, or maybe a week and a half, but they have started one after another to look for. she has perhaps a little more than he sought and maintained, but who knows, maybe not. when they met the next time, he got up and offered her his place to, they thanked him and smiled even more and he has withdrawn a space. He did so again when they finally met for the third time. It was ritual from then on her, when she boarded the tram, he rose, left, and her his court, as he stood up when she got to her stop, get out, and sometimes when he was especially spirited, he kissed her hand in farewell, before all the other passengers in the tram, but it usually took no notice.

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Virgin Mary taken into heaven!

secret is the National Day of Poland, the fifteenth of August. Sabrina is really the only ascension, that is a purely Christian religious affair. However, experts and connoisseurs of regional studies see in this date the reason for the summer holidays endless Polish: so that it also managed slowed and foot-dragging it pilgrim group in the six weeks in early July to mid August guaranteed up to Jasna Góra, pray for a week and recover could join and then came home.
thus actually ascension only mariae. but something was always happening that day. last year was madonna exactly on that day a concert in Warsaw, which provided for a frenzy. all the press people printed the scandalous and religiously objectionable singer in the appropriate pose on the front pages of their newspapers, and conservative-earth approach called public prayer circles to protest against the on-Rosenkraenzer disavowal of the Blessed Virgin. The Poles were relatively unaffected, concert in the church in the morning and evening.
this year was the highlight of the annual pilgrimage wave together with the ninetieth anniversary of the Battle of Warsaw, the decisive turning point of the Polish-Bolshevik War, even the "Miracle on the Vistula" called. street the battle of Warsaw in the year nineteen hundred and twenty - - otherwise known only from the infinitely long a tram stop announcement made it This event suddenly on the third place of the most important anniversaries in the year 2010, after the Battle of Grunwald and the Katyn crime, but mind you before the 200th birthday of Frederic Chopin. and so the traditionellle, the plac Piłsudskiego of festivities, dressed up once again with stage and grand stand, transparent and altar, and on Sunday brought together government and dignitaries and illustrious company before the eyes of the numerous audience, mentioned by the president all in his speech, military leaders that battle of truly meaningful time of applicable ... because: what if ... asked the columnist and reporter, what if ... the Marszalek Pilsudski the train of the Bolsheviks to the West not the gates of Warsaw and the Vistula and this would have or exceeded and the revolutionary spirit but still in undestroyed, but bled to push postwar Germany, what if ... could ask the historians and gave eloquent scenarios to minutes of a Polish-Soviet Socialist Republic and USSR to the Atlantic Coast, what if ... was hardly imagine ... but it was turned out differently, and therefore were now owned by the Polish State and elite culture to flourish together and talk and fifteen times from a historical cannon salute. State holiday.

(there was, it was said that two dead. Older women heat intolerance and war memories together.)