It’s sometimes difficult to find the right words to say what’s on my mind… I tend to write poems then 🙂

Who are we expecting?

You’re pregnant? That’s great news!

What is it? A boy or a girl?

Have you chosen the colour of the room?

Pink or blue?

Have you decided the name?

Dick or Sue?

Is he going to be strong and sorty like his daddy?

She will be beautiful and kind like her mummy.

Well, I’ve got news for you.

Dick has been lately really blue.

Today he told me he wants to be called Sue.

What am I going to do?

I’m going to call her Sue.

And then I’m going to paint the room blue,

green, yellow, purple, pink, red and black too.

That’s what I’m going to do.

My invisible son

If I had a son I would call him Jan

or John or nothing at all…

If I had a son I would let him be

whoever he wants, whatever makes him happy!

If I had a son I wouldn’t call him a man

I would call him a person…

I have a son.

His name isn’t Jan.

HIs name is Jordan.

My son is free to choose whoever he wants to be

as long as he’s happy.

I will never call my son a man

because the word is too small.

He’s the best person I know!

And that’s who he’ll always be to me.

Soon we will take off his cloak of invisibility!

Matka Polka

Matka Polka tranzwestytow nie rodzi,

wzorowa i unikatowa.

Matka Polka tranzwestytow nie rodzi,

a Ojciec Polak takich dzieci nie plodzi.

Tranzwestyta to wynaturzenie i zboczenie.

Dla polskich rodzicow upokorzenie.

Polska rodzina z cnot w swiecie slynie.

Niech lepiej tranzwestyta zginie.

Bo przeciez Matka Polka go nie urodzila

i wlasnym mlekiem nie wykarmila.

To musiala byc sprawka Zlego,

albo naukowca szalonego.

Tranzwestyta pojawil sie z prozni,

A kto twierdzi inaczej ten bluzni.

Gowniarzowi porzadnie sprac cialo!

Jak go dupsko bedzie bolalo

to od razu sie z tego wyleczy

i bedzie gowniarz mowil do rzeczy

Bo Matka Polka tranzwestytow nie rodzi

A Ojciec Polak takich dzieci nie plodzi.