Archive for November, 2017

On my way back to Vienna, I had to stop in London,

precisely, the mega-city known as LHR.

After catching a bus and a train,

tired, so tired,

I was finally in the right terminal,

to wait.

Terminally, it seemed.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

You try,

O how you try,

to do the right thing.

But at the end of the day…

You sit in a pile of ashes

and are reminded of the futility.

Pressure and distension,

people suck you dry.

Bones crumble.

Morals decay.

Life goes on?

Life goes wrong.

(Every fucking day…

life… fades away)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

People like me are used to worshipping privately,

for publicly there is always judgement and compromise.

Even in liberty,

*we* are never truly free.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

The end credits roll,

but there is no way you,

or anyone,

can read them.

Hard work and endeavor,

cast and crew disregarded.

All seems futile,

in movies and real life…

Art blurs into obscurity,

words and love fade away…

Disintegrating

eternity.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Lest we forget,

every regret,

life goes on,

somehow,

dead inside.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

If, on the floor you see scattered,

apparently random letters,

don’t fret,

they fell out of my underpants.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Imagine…

Sick joke:

They put us, sailors of the Soviet Navy,

on a ship called “Empress of Russia”.

… Accommodated by Allies?!

… Canadians smirk, they love their monarchy.

… *Whores!*

Scotland,

1944.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

OK.

I’ll put it in terms that you will maybe understand:

1991…

We were promised Mercedes,

instead we got Trabants.

… Fake Trabants, at that,

for which we had to wait

and wait

and wait,

until Uncle Kolya returned

from Magdeburg.

Finally…

petit

liberal

democracy.

Hollow

Lies

Realized.

A sad kind of death.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

7 () 1917 SPb (Inside the Winter Palace_)

And suddenly, it was tomorrow,

and tomorrow wasn’t what it used to be.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Disrespected,

abused,

dejected,

screwed,

neglected.

Unrequited love,

cascading unmet needs,

I cut my toenails

until I bleed.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat