Archive for June, 2020

Boxing Gloves

Mixed feelings, confusion,

nothing fits properly,

this life we find ourselves in:

Constricting, yet empty,

full of demands,

but always something lacking,

stupid things we pursue,

striving and seeking,

but never finding real meaning,

what we think we need.

Dazed, we continue,

jarringly, we end,

hitting the deck,

unfitting friend.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Ocean, Immense & Bleak

It’s a dangerous thing, so as to speak,

judging people by my own standards,

expecting them to act as I would,

in events and circumstance.

We remain strangers, it would seem,

no universal logic or sense.

Alas, alone in polluted, plastic sea,

humanity floats and drowns.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Blows, Hope_

When you’re hurting, other people’s suffering isn’t necessarily a priority.

Yet, you understand the pain.

Giving time and money is a luxury, for many,

but compassion, good vibes,

if it helps, I can do.

Ipso facto, best wishes for the world and its people:

drifting gently in the wind.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Okno_ Sunshine

Dark day,

seeing my past and future fade away,

too much sunshine, too much glass,

hope disappears in brightness’ glare.

People betray, voices rip and stab,

darkness consumes,

I slip away.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Collective Farmer on a Bicycle (1935)

Alas, not the great work of literature you thought it would be?

… Heroes generally prove flawed.

As cycling supremos, authors,

philosophers, go …

Human, all too human.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Wm covers ears, abuse (k1news.ru, opensource)

“You have an anger problem,” she said, with a tinge of concern.

That old trope, the man-child thought to himself, feeling his anger levels rising. After all, few things made him angrier than being told he had an anger problem.

“Doesn’t everyone,” he growled, “One way or another?”

(Victim and/or perpetrator, both…)

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Maria Theresia, as Queen of Hungary

The singer-songwriter strings together three words that rhyme,

a catchy phrase, vaguely wise.

“How deep and full of insight!” the media cry;

as the masses buy the song, liking the sound,

the vibe,

stuck on endless replay.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested in politics,” the singer-songwriter shrugs, answering the unasked question.

… Next stop, President.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Clouds (Ruthenium-106 article)

Fitfully, I drift in and out of consciousness.

Grasping for respite in the teeth of agony.

Meaning and reason dissolves

as I see him, briefly,

beautiful as ever, despite betrayal.

Pain overwhelms.

… Is this life,

or a fleeting memory?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Migren, Headache, Tee, Utro

Sometimes, the more I think,

the less it makes sense,

the more it hurts,

the more impossible “success” seems,

the less everything apparently means.

Now is one such time,

alas, one amongst many.

… Agony, intelligence, angst.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Savitsky_ Monk, 1897

Even in the best of times,

he knew *that* wasn’t him,

and these *are not* the best of times,

that is certain.

He broods, he frowns,

wryly then he smiles,

an honest, if flawed, man.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat