Archive for March, 2020

Giftgas

Are we there yet?

The beginning of the end?

And other clichés.

… Utterly screwed,

totally confused,

you, me, and the chimpanzee.

As leaders invoke, abuse,

wartime memories:

sacrifice, heroism, bravery,

and lambs to slaughter.

… This legacy they died for?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Black Hole

Panic and disease,

this, “the normal” they sneer.

Fear, chaos; progress?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Broken 3

Hopefully, by the time you read this

it is no longer contemporaneous;

the feeling, I pray, has passed,

and despairing misery

has become differently.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Nuremberg Chronicle_ Danse Macabre 2

Stay home, buy a box-set,

watch other people dance.

Go online, buy a bigger TV,

so long as there are deliveries.

Let’s pretend things are normal

and keep the economy ticking!

Death and despair only matter, apparently,

when dollars and cents.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1349 a

All the progress in the world,

laid low by a “primitive” life-form,

Virus.

Hubris and gimmicks, smart-phones and 5G,

futility, filth, shit and piss.

Distractions?

Death, despair and chaos reign,

as in 1349.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Plyaska Smerti 1

Gimmicks and flashing lights,

distractions from life,

the essential.

Advertising and capitalism:

strange dreams implanted,

exploitation, manipulation,

dumbing-down,

constant delusions, lies,

sucking you dry,

making you demented

and infected.

Virus!

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Despair_ Devushka. Alone in Rain. Sea (or Flood)

They fill your head with panic, misinformation,

rumors,

they’ve got you where they want you:

confused.

Afraid and desperate, many will do,

exactly what *they* want them to … …

(Is this the end of the world as we know it?)

… Meanwhile another storm batters,

howling winds, pouring rain:

tomorrow floods and more destruction,

ushering in,

they’re welcoming,

martial law.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Blows, Hope_

So, pretend it’s my Birthday,

and you want me to be happy.

Can we also pretend that everything is OK?

That we’re living in harmony.

That things are the way they should be.

That machines work and people have heart,

compassion,

truly caring about (*every*) each other.

… Peaceful bliss!

Can we imagine, hope, believe,

the seemingly impossible?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Zeppelin_ Pochta SSSR, 1991, Albatros

Apocalypse nigh,

they sneer at the man-child,

just as yesterday, and the day before.

They, who represent normal; they, who always seem to have time to stand around and talk, repetitive, banal babble.

I feel for him, the guy, I can tell his mind is on higher things, he’s doing what he can to survive in this fucked-up world. I feel a connection, even though I don’t know him. I want to reach out, but he’s inured, he stays within himself, focused, he doesn’t meet my gaze. We pass like zeppelins, out of time and place.

Gone, like tomorrow’s gherkins.

Meanwhile, again, the establishment chatters, bemused, selfish, scornful, only their clique matters.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

L'vov_

Whirlwind idyll.

Incongruous, cacophony,

somehow melodic and fitting,

it soothes my transplanted soul

(suppressing feelings of being but not belonging).

Tonight I surrender to the pulsating release,

and sing: “Lemberg, L’vov, L’viv,

let’s get married!”

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat