Archive for the ‘И… Люди…’ Category

Hoping for inspiration, you look out the window.

You try to focus on the sky

but you’re distracted by the courtyard below.

*Pissant neighbors!*

So close but so far!

Endless circle of misunderstandings,

selfishness

and hate.

The unwritten contract of community

is underwritten by contempt.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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Sometimes, overcome with the banality

and futility

of apparently everything,

you lose track of time

and slip from the tenuous grip of reality

(if lucky).

Blessed,

you fall into the sweet embrace of sleep

wherein anything is possible.

Tormented,

you dream negatively

and banally

about your neighbors.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

In theory: yes.

In practice: It depends on others.

In reality: I don’t know.

… Ipso facto,

we will see …

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Что за херня, господа?

Creeping, encompassing

conspiracy.

Your hegemony cloaked in alleged legitimacy…

… seeks and seeps to destroy.

(And, we lament, so tired of being the eternal

misunderstood target)

(Lest you forget

the others

are philosophers)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Yes, the pictures you show are grotesque

and sobering…

Alas, though,

I was in Leningrad, Dresden and Tokyo

and I can’t say that Nagasaki and Hiroshima

suffered any more (or less).

War is war.

Death is death.

Misery is misery.

Burning, peeling, rotting human flesh is…

(you get the picture).

You can’t compare these things.

But you can oversimplify geopolitics

and complicated concepts.

And you can pretend that by banning “The Bomb”

human suffering will end.

Alas …

… Like landmines and schools,

you maim, destroy and breed,

Fools.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Red Terror,

White Terror,

Day Terror,

Night Terror.

Every day terror,

everyday,

every waking and sleeping moment,

terror,

when people are around.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Last night Dionysus.

Today, I pick up the pieces.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Anniversary’s are hard.

Yes, they keep you in touch,

like picking at a scab makes you bleed.

Pain rekindled.

And

they remind you of how little you’ve progressed.

And how fucked-up you really are (as they say).

Alas!

Remiss…

Blood and piss.

I guess it depends what your anniversary is.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat