There’s been a ton of activity at the Polish American Writers & Editors group on Facebook. Some highlights:

Danuta Hinc in Plowing the Polish-English fallow ground

One might say that living a bilingual life offers enriched experience, but I say it also brings confusion and struggle during the first years of learning, especially when the second language enters someone’s life in the second or third decade. I am not sure if there is a moment when two different languages can merge and become “one” or if they always exist as separate platforms of experience and expression.

Translating my novel, Zabić Innego, originally written in Polish, into To Kill the Other, taught me the value of time and persistent repetition, something that’s hard to admit and even harder to accept in today’s fast-paced world.

For those of us who are born into single-language families — meaning the mother and the father speak the same language — the world becomes entrenched in the sound of the language in a singular if not monotonous way. In this case language becomes unequivocal with objects, actions, feelings, and emotions. I can’t decide if the context of life imposes itself on language or if the language underlines the context. Perhaps the two options are intertwined and impossible to separate.

…

The interesting question revolves around the second language. What happens when we learn another language, the so-called “second language,” later in our lives?

My experience tells me that the second language becomes an exotic realm of existence: appealing, promising, and — against all hope — unattainable…

Florence Waszkelewicz Clowes of the Polish American Journal has invited authors to contact her if they have interest in a review by the Journal.

oriana-poetry reflects on the poetry, theology, and alcoholism of Czesław Miłosz in Milosz At The Gates Of Heaven. A excellent reflection contracting the faith of Agape with the faith of predestination and damnation.

Sober Reader, you yawn: yet another famous poet turns out to have been an alcoholic. “Heaven is the third vodka” – should we even bother discussing what for non-alcoholics is sheer nonsense? And is it really true that great writers need a “charismatic flaw,” as the literary critic Leslie Fiedler claimed, that flaw generally being dependence on alcohol?

Milosz writes: “My real drinking began in earnest in occupied Warsaw with my future wife Janka and Jerzy Andrzejewski (author of Ashes and Diamond) . . . I drank a lot, but always took care to separate time for work from time for letting go . . . Alas, too many generations of my ancestors drank for me to have been free from the urge for the bottle.” (Milosz’s ABC, p. 18)

…I am interested in the acutely bitter tone of this unique poem. Is this Job speaking, subtly accusing the Old One (as Einstein liked to refer to God)? Let’s not forget that Milosz is a metaphysical poet, and can provide us with a certain metaphysical shiver when we consider the kind of cruel deterministic theology that is still very powerful, while progressive Christian theologies remain anemic.

“An Alcoholic Enters the Gates of Heaven” is especially interesting in the light of the recent prediction by a fundamentalist preacher, Harold Camping (a happy camper, since he regards himself as one of those predestined to taste paradise) that the Last Judgment would take place Saturday May 21st at 6 PM (Eastern Standard Time, I think). I have also just read an interesting summary of crucifixion-centered theologies versus progressive theologies. The preacher who was predicting the end of the world belongs to the first tradition, of Christ seen both as a sacrificial victim, a “sin sacrifice,” and – this seems an egregiously un-Christian concept – as the ultimate judge who will accept the chosen few and hurl billions of souls into eternal torment.

Progressive theologies, on the other hand, are fascinated by early Christianity that emphasized agape (loving kindness; a community of affection) and paradise rather than hell. The basic tenet of progressive theologies is that the Second Coming is the birth of Christ Consciousness within us and among us, in the global community. We are here to build the kingdom of God on earth. God intends all souls to be saved. Paradise is here and now.

Alas, progressive theologians do not seem to have the PR resources commanded by the “blood of the Lamb/Armageddon” theologies. The only time there seemed to be true hope for progressive theologies was when Rabbi Kushner’s famous book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, became a best-seller. Kushner posited a deity with limited powers, one who neither causes nor prevents cancer, heart attacks, tsunamis, and other disasters. God does not decide which child will get leukemia, or who will grow up to be an alcoholic. Some evil is the work of natural laws (these days, an earthquake is rarely called an “act of God”); other kinds of evil are the work of man. Afterwards, everything depends on our response: do we curse and despair and can’t move on, or do we summon the strength to transcend the tragedy? Faith is one of the resources that can increase people’s strength to endure and recover. (Twelve-step programs also come to mind.)…

John Guzlowski reads Beets, about his mother’s experience in the Nazi slave labor camps in Germany during WWII. The poem is taken from his book Lightning and Ashes.

…and from yours truly, a friend I assisted in assembling Poetry and Sundry, a book of poems on a myriad of subjects, particularly interpersonal relationships, sex, passion, regret, faith, commitment, love, places, and Polish related subjects:

Poetry and Sundry by Jakub Weroniczak | Make Your Own Book

An excerpt from the poem Narrative:

Constructed sequence events.
Latin: narrare, “to recount.”
Latin: gnarus, “knowing.”
Recounting what we know.
But for us, history unwritten.
No available narrative.
Certainly members of narratives,
Other definitions,
Background stories.
Ours unwritten.
So we have begun, to inscribe.

And the poem Hallelujah

Leonard Cohen.
Kohanim.
You know God – serving Him as priest.
Touching all the essentials
in poetry and song —
love, longing, war, eroticism, spirituality.
Things at our core
that transcend.
Things that quake us.