I was in a good place

until around you came,

with your crappy chess set,

making me play your game.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Too stark, she says,

this thing we have done,

contrasting bad and good,

replacing wrong with “right”…

revolutions and intentions.

Pause, reflect,

so much lost,

a relative black hole.

Indeed, we need to ameliorate,

find appropriate red paint,

restore our fate.

… Is it possible?

Tomorrow…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Wave of futility sweeps over me…

Kalahari iceberg melts,

washes my dreams away.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Sport is a rort, these days.

If you wanna make it work

you have to play the game,

smile ambiguously,

entertain …

TV interview …

… Say the right things, at the right time,

in the appropriate sickly sweet voice,

and you’re in.

… You win!

Alas, shame I don’t speak American…

… Lingua Franca,

and discarded morality…

We dance for Dollars

and cents.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Shut the doors and windows,

Turn the TV off.

People confuse and distract,

like cataracts.

Silence child,

Listen within,

search wisdom,

meditate.

Your destiny awaits!

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Something beautiful,

or at least I thought it was,

and/or wanted it to be.

Now tarnished,

sullied with hurt and pain.

Communication breakdown.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

It is.

It was.

And it is gone.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

L’Chaim!

Gift of Life,

from God Almighty,

Spasiba.

Yes.

Reflect,

and rejoice

through your inner tears,

you exist! …

Celebrate, the ultimate:

you were born …

Happy Birthday, indeed.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

So, woe.

I didn’t get sent away on a Philosopher’s Ship.

Apparently I have something better to offer…

Indeed,

a train awaits, pointing the other way,

for me and my comrades a cattle car,

teplushka.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

At school

your children are learning about our way of life,

as somebody sees it.

(Way of life?

I scoff!

You think we have a *way* of “life”?)

Like brutal Buddhists, perhaps,

who can sentence you to hell on earth

or put you to death

because it is not really the end

(conscience clear),

you will be reborn as a grasshopper.

Way of life and death,

endless cycle of impossible,

beyond apprehension,

outside human comprehension.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat