Pressure: Diamonds & Broken Souls

Pressure,

it creates diamonds,

cliché says.

Of course, in humans,

pressure also creates

pain,

frustration

and murderous retorts.

Think, American shooting rampages,

broken families,

and dead Romanovs.

Pressure.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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You Try, Life Sucks, You Die. (Possibilities Lost…)

 

You try to do the “right thing”

and each day you die a little more.

Fallen world.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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Fallen World, Zoo Walls, Broken Souls

Some people seem to like

the constant struggle

of life in this world.

The ceaseless battle

motivates and stimulates,

providing willpower

to get up each morning.

Other people

are repulsed

and sucked dry

by such futility.

They know they’ll never win

in this corrupt system.

For them,

deep thinkers

and bottom feeders,

life is a kind of death.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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The Washing Machine

Musing on the nature of freedom and progress,

time and changes,

peace and prosperity,

he looks at the old washing machine his neighbors

in East Germany gave him,

a goodbye and goodwill present:

strange to you in hindsight,

ardent in intent.

…

Alas, dirt sticks.

…

Time and changes,

different system,

different connections,

pressure

like a headache:

the machine spins but doesn’t wash.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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I Want To Make That Scumbag’s Life A Misery…

But the voice in my head tells me:

Revenge would be wasted on such an unthinking shit.

“OK, if not living revenge,

then how about snapping his neck,

extinguishing his exploitative, selfish life?”

…

Mistreated and abused,

what can our hero do?

If revenge is futile

and liable to complicate,

what chance justice, redress?

(In a world that doesn’t care…

Un monde sans pitié…)

…

“Dear God,

feel my pain

hear my cry!”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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I Liked *It* When It Was Still Possible, A Dream To Cherish…

The less I knew

the nicer it seemed.

… Ignorance is bliss …

Hopeful expectation

blown away,

gone,

missed.

Reality, alas,

negativity,

possibility destroyed.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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Sayonara, Assholes!

Good people you notice

and in their absence miss.

Assholes and shits,

self-centered,

you notice in their return,

curse their existence.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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To Sleep, Perchance… Perfidy

Rest I need,

escape I crave,

I shut my eyes.

…

Brain betrays,

horror and banality invade

my everything.

…

Inside I scream,

tear myself apart.

… Wasted dream.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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Sayonara, Gospoda.

Sayonara, Gospoda.

Hope and dreams flushed away.

Disillusionment and pain,

my remains.

Life

and

decay.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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Perpetual Prostitutes, We’ve Been Made.

Soul-destroying,

demeaning,

life draining.

Work.

You do it because they pay you.

And in the current economic climate

you’re lucky to have a job, right?

So they say.

Thus they manipulate.

From childhood they’ve conditioned us

to do what’s best for the system.

They use, abuse and delude us.

…

Perpetual prostitutes,

morally destitute.

Bankrupt,

we sneer at sex workers,

nonetheless,

just like us,

everything’s corrupt.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

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