Nobody knows who I am.
Two years ago, some guy went and
told the social workers that I’m holding
my kids in a cage, and the mindless chickens
came to stop the cruelty from happening
only to witness
that the person had told a fat lie,
and the kids were alright.
A year ago, the same creature told the social workers
that the kids should be taken away from me
since I had written a poem about a tiger eating
the head of a wicked queen,
and the person was scared since…
I don’t know, maybe he has a mind of a naïve
two-year-old and does not c-o-m-p-r-e-h-e-n-d
the usage of symbols.
A month ago, the guy had the time and the energy
to go and talk B.S. about me
and the official papers concerning “my life”
were actually a story about a therapy session
of a person who is not my family member,
and that was the point for me to file a complaint
and to press charges.
Nobody knows who I am.
16 years ago, my classmates told me that I was weird,
but it was only because I was the new kid in town,
and they did not understand my dialect
or know anything about my family history.
Nine years ago, my peers told me that my “Neo-Nazi
look” was shocking when my short hairdo
together with my gray hoodie
were the signs of modesty and modern monkhood.
Six years ago, I was told that the “stain of my childhood block
would never wash away,”
but the person did not know that the stated block
was not my birthplace, and I had actually spent my
childhood in a city far away.
Nobody knows who I am,
but I have told my secrets
and given my heart – so to speak –
to one person
who probably doesn’t give a damn
and to whom the info is useless
– considering what his life has been –
but still, the pieces of me
the others have been
so desperate to own and to see
have never been available (to them)
nor will they be
since I handed them out for good,
and there will never be anything to rob:
I’m an empty treasure vault.
Nobody knows who he is either
since the only friend who knows about
my so-called donation
does not know the name of the recipient,
and all people will ever have on me
are their sick assumptions and
subjective visions filled with
Paula Puolakka (born August 18, 1982) is a Beat poet, writer, and MA (History of Science and Ideas.) In 2019, The Finnish Reserve Officers' Federation gave her an honorable mention, honoring the academic legacy of Mr. Ludwig Wittgenstein & Mr. Theodore John Kaczynski. In Dec 2020, the PhDs of Tampere University gave her appreciation: her academic article - celebrating her Master's thesis of 2012 and the academic legacy of Mr. Kaczynski & Mr. Wittgenstein - was published by Hybris. In April 2021, Puolakka won the second prize in the "Lahti, the European Green Capital 2021" writing competition. Her story celebrated "Teddy." In Dec, she landed second in the writing contest held by Haloo Maaseutu (monitored by the Centre for Economic Development, Transport, and the Environment.) From Aug 2021 to Feb 2022, Puolakka was the representative of the City of Oulu. Her sixth book came out in Nov 2022. The name of the "limited edition science-art Christmas gift" was Banded Krait: the collection of the acclaimed Beat poems, including her award- and challenge-winning poems (USA, South Africa & Canada, 2019-2022.) A few of them were dedicated to Mr. Kaczynski and Mr. Wittgenstein.