a search for the feeling home

Max starts the engine,

the white smoke appears in the rear

and then vanishes.

Cold air from the AC whooshes out,

my hands hide inside my pockets.

The warm air eventually comes

I force my hands out

and place them over the heater -

they like that.

"Coffee?" Max asks

"Yeah, let's get coffee"

A sweet young face appears in the window

"Two coffees, with extra sugar and cream"

The usual.

The coffee is soft and milky

Max lights a cigarette

the smell is intense

but sweet.

I take a hit,

I feel a light buzz.

Max is excited

So am I.

We drive in silence.

The crunch of the snow,

fills the space

Winter is still felt and seen

the grey clouds hover above,

like soft blankets

Max parks the car,

we keep it on to keep warm

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I should have done it last year";

There is no sadness,

I must go.

Planes fly under the grey clouds,

they come and go.

More sounds now fill the space,

beeping, buzzing, roaring

We park.

"Alright man…", he says

"I guess this is it" I say.

We embrace as brothers would,

but brothers we're not.

He drives off.

I'm all alone.

I'm calm and ready

I board the plane

The feeling is surreal

Unfamiliar faces all around.

I load my luggage above,

and take my seat.

Flight attendants roam the long walkway

"fasten your seatbelt sir" one says -

I fasten tight.

Impatiently I sit

'Is this the right decision?'

I wait,

And wait

And wait.

"Preparing for lift off",

A deep voice announces.

The plane lifts off.

My center of gravity shifts

A heavy feeling pulls at me.

We're up in the air

There is a release

I feel light

I feel free

I cannot go back anymore;

my home is no longer.

Mike and John

Two happy faces walk towards me

We meet for the first time.

It's a strange feeling

But strange is my new normal.

I work in their garden

I pull the weeds that hold so tight

"oh what a wonderful job you did!"

Says John

I'm proud, that took effort

We eat biscuits and drink coffee

The "Telly" is on,

that's what they call it here.

I dig some holes for new plants

I scoop it out with my bare hands

The dirt is black and moist -

John smiles,

"I like to feel the Earth" I say to him.

There is a shack in the back.

The door of the shack scrapes the ground

"I'll fix it for ya!" I say with enthusiasm

I unscrew the screws

Detach the door

Lay it flat

Sand the bottom

Screw it back on -

more screws this time

"You fixed it! Smart young man" says Mike

I feel happy

Haven't heard that in a while.

It's my last night here

A big feast is prepared:

Stuffed duck

Grilled vegetables

Fresh mashed potatoes

And a gravy that kills.

My mouth waters.

We eat, drink, and talk shit

A few glasses of wine and Mike is a child again,

John takes it slow

He's the more intellectual type.

Our bellies are stuffed

We watch a bit of the "Telly"

The moon calls for sleep

We succumb

Krakow, with an apostrophe over the o.

Not Cracow.

Call it by it's real name.

.

I arrived -

It's been 13 years I think.

The small cobbled streets lead to places,

the mom and pop shops occupy the corners,

the locals and the outsiders mix in so well.

I can't believe it

13 years

THIRTEEN YEARS!

4 bunks occupy the small room

An Argentinian

An 'American'

A Chilean

A Paraguayan

We get along pretty well

We spend the days working

One makes breakfast

One mops the floors

One makes the beds

One greets the guests

I'm the breakfast guy

Early mornings are my fill

Our host is this Polish guy

He's quite sweet

But his wife is a vampire

Not a real one unfortunately…

But that would have been cool.

He talks a lot

Tells us of his passions and dreams

One time we go to see him play

Live music that is

He's real good

His voice is harsh -

the suffering.

But sweet -

The agony.

He needs his life back.

We're all boys here

We talk and talk

We advise one another on things

Dating advice and such things

He listens but his wife interrupts

It's just his life now

Nothing he can do.

We enjoy the moments as they pass

We sing karaoke

The Argentinian yells it

The Chilean mumbles it

I budge in from time to time

I think I have a good voice,

the microphone close to my lips,

my vocal chords vibrate

POWER is what I feel.

The adventure is done.

One after the other

We depart our posts

The Hostel is dead

The home that was -

is no longer there.

An invitation to Budapest

It's an invitation to work

He calls himself a Life-Coach

I only seen him on video.

I arrive

The weather is cool

But the sun is warm

I walk amongst buildings of height and age

Imperial architecture they call it

I open the large wooden door

It creeks in excitement

"Hey! What's up man!"

He yells from the second floor

The marble floors echo my steps

We embrace.

It's a strange embrace,

A fatherly embrace?

Maybe.

We work days and nights

His mind is one of chaos

He likes to complicated things,

"Before we do that, we need to do this!"

"We just need to 'start' doing something!"

I respond in frustration,

He doesn't get it.

I accept it for what it is -

yet another experience.

We travel to Prague

By coincidence

The doors of the train shut -

as I am about to get off

"Well I guess you're coming with!"

He says

Maybe the chaos is good.

.

.

.

Back in Budapest

We were only gone for a few weeks

The trip was eye opening

Lives were changed

I realized many things

We eat dinner

I cook it

Homemade meals remind me of home

"Nice job! This is really good Kamil".

We depart for Spain

"Sir you didn't do your check in yet"

"Don't worry about it, it's only 40 euros"

He says

Gives this "shit head" 40 euros

"I thought I checked in, my bad!"

We arrive in Spain

The air is different

The people strange

I try my Spanish

It seems to be working

A conversation with an old man unfolds

'He understands me?'

He tells me about Catalans,

and how here they speak Catalan -

not Spanish.

Shae returns home

"Wanna grab some food?"

"Let's do it!" I say

It's a Taco place this time

tacos in Spain?

I get myself a pair of fish tacos

He gets chicken ones

We sit, eat, enjoy

Small scooters zoom pass -

on the empty streets

The lamps softy illuminate the streets

The Spanish air makes us sweat.

Christmas is upon us

Shae is meeting a new 'Woman'

Character she has

Beauty she has

Passion she has

A motherly feeling she gives.

I help with the cooking

Shae does the cleaning

Dinner is ready

We pretend to pray

We talk

We laugh

We eat

A feeling of home;

It's been a while.

She made me feel home

She sat there on that bench

The street of white Marble

Sketchbook in hand

So focused.

'I should say Hi?'

The thought comes as I pass her

I go back

"Hey! What'cha doing?"

"Ohhh hello! Uhh just drawing"

"Uhh, could I see?"

She is warm

Her smile is soft

Her face young but nervous

Pimples on her forehead

But I have love for faults

No makeup

Clothes of a different kind

I take her for tea near the River

It's awkward.

But we sit with it

We talk of good things

We talk of our lives

We drink tea that's too expensive

Served by a waiter whose too-well-dressed

At tables that have white cloths and fancy menus

We meet again

We ride scooters around the city

We sit on grass that's wet

We sip wine,

even though she's underage

We kiss

She has no clue how one should kiss

I teach her.

I meet her parents

They observe me.

They know I'm a player.

But she's changing me…

They don’t know it.

I come over for food at times

Her mom cooks real good

Just like my mom

It's been 2 years already

I sleep over on the Weekends

We have passionate sex

She's catching on

We cuddle

My arm pains but I let it

She's comfortable,

that's what matters.

.

.

.

We move in together

The Attic room

It's still under construction

Her father and I do the work

It's slow, frustrating work.

Her father is a bit of a nut.

He cuts the drywall wrong,

I try to help -

"Don't worry Kamil, I will do it"

He says

I rather not argue.

The floor creeks as you walk it

The cold air creeps in during the night time

Through the cracks in the wall

The Wasps come and go

And so do the mosquitos

We kill one or two.

There is beauty in the pain of it all:

We got one another

We got her crazy father

And her adrenalin-driven brother

We got her kind mother

And even her envious step-father.

It's not perfect

But perfect is not what I'm looking for.

It's been two months now

A pandemic has seperated us

I'm living with my Polish Grandmother

She's a real pain

She's sweet and all -

But a real pain

My Grandfather the same.

I spend a month with them,

and then I'm gone.

I rent a room in a city nearby

The only one I can afford.

I meet an old lady

She stays in the room near the kitchen

She always cleans

And tells us to clean

But she's sweet

"Kamil it's your turn this week",

She would say.

I meet a guy that smokes lots of cigarettes

Rolls his own

Has a machine for it and all.

He's in the room next to mine

He's also sweet -

But the cigarettes…

Why doesn’t he smoke so much?

He knocks on my door at random times?

"We go for a cigarette?"

"Ahhhh -

only a quick one though"

I have the balcony

We smoke and talk of life

We have deep conversations

He tells me what I need to do

I tell him what he needs to do

Brotherly advice.

We eat a Kebab at the mall nearby

Only us two

The mall is empty

Everyone is hiding

Adult

Teen

Child

No one is out these days.

It's my last week here

We order a pizza

Put on a movie

Sit, eat, watch

Reminds me of old days;

Blankets on the floor

A good movie on the "Telly"

Younger half-brother comfortable,

surrounded by a million pillows

a "knock, knock" on the door

"Pizza is here!" he would say with excitement

"Where's the money?!" I'd ask him

"I don't know?!" he'd laugh -

thinking I was joking.

Ahh… I sigh to myself,

it's the feeling of home.