Archive for May, 2019

Drownings at Nantes (Noyades de Nantes) 2 (v2)

To use the immortal words of Yuri Gagarin

(or is it Albert Pierrepoint I’m thinking of?):

“Let’s go!” …

… Progress?

Tomorrow we might know.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Steel Mill

Was life so bad before, lost time and place,

to willingly sacrifice my

mind, body, soul and face

to this false god?

Bogus American dream.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Sophie Momoro

The bourgeois liberals get overly excited,

carried away,

decadent excess, some say.

Alas, entirely reasonable,

understandable behavior,

I counter:

For, once the Divine is removed from our thinking,

what grounds for satisfaction do we have

beyond carnal, sensual pleasure,

base indulgence and arousal?

… Yes, let them eat cake too!

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Plums, Methley

“Go for the low hanging fruit,” he said.

Uncomprehending, she paused, then smiled:

“Oh, you mean the testicles!”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Paris, 1930s

Prostitute?

No!

We say: Courtesan,

it benefits the man.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Blows, Hope_

Today’s lover,

tomorrow’s loather,

today’s friend,

tomorrow’s fiend.

Highs and lows,

we move with the blows,

alas,

why is it so?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Palmen am Meer_

She simpers and blows him a kiss.

(Some kind of idyll and bliss…)

He feels a tantalizing breeze on his cheek,

in his mind

he sees her…

*Fresh*,

fresh

as Palmen am Meer,

Tanzmusik aus Kambodscha.

… Schöne Tag,

1968.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Fetal Position 1

Desperately seeking security,

we embrace opportunities,

and perversities.

Deception we realize too late

as, gutted, we lie,

unmarked grave.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Alexandre Dumas & Adah Isaacs Menken, 1866

Right day, wrong year…

I watch some TV,

This thing they show me…

Alas, it’s all too apparent,

mediocrity pays.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Stressed

Questions

for which there are no good answers…

Everyday compromises…

You try to quiet the voices in your mind,

your soul,

they are pleading for something higher.

You convince yourself

(for the sake of sanity and “survival”)

that this living hell

is normal.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat