Archive for the ‘Надежда’ Category

Aurora

Tonight, I can hope.

Forestall tomorrow’s knowing,

sad reality.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

 

baikal

Peace, looking at sky…

Eternal gift, by God’s Grace.

Business wants to block.

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Sea Idyll_ Sorolla, 1908

We ate and we smiled.

Later, deep conversation.

And then I woke up.

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

9.10

He asked if he could take me to lunch,

say,

a café.

That’s a waste of money, I replied,

and besides, I’d rather eat under a tree,

fresh air and sound of bees.

Make something and bring it to me.

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Kz, TV

You call it garbage.

Perhaps,

yet,

somehow it feeds me

something I need.

Nourishment,

satisfying and gratifying

primal urges,

like Sunflower seed purges.

Base reasons for living.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

7.24 (1251)

I felt the need,

compelled,

by something beyond words

or “common sense”,

laws, societal reason

or public interests.

Indeed,

this is personal

and,

as such,

it is all important

and inexplicable to others.

Today, I continued breathing.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1459

With cynical pessimism,

pervading futility

and innate despair,

I embark on each new day…

Gloomily.

Reluctantly.

Somehow, however,

deep within, I feel,

miraculously,

things, ultimately,

will be okay.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

baikal

Hope and *Believe*

in Miracles.

Because, what else do we have to grasp?

Cleopatra’s asp and fear?

No! … Despair sucks us down.

I know it’s so,

as pain persists,

but, if and when you can,

resist.

And believe in *some* kind of miracle,

a possibility,

whatever your mind’s eye can muster.

Look beyond the horizon:

see epiphany and bliss.

Then turn inward, friend,

intimate, honest, candid,

and speak to God.

Cry,

speak and listen.

Commune

with

Peace.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Nuclear Depth Bomb - USS Agerholm, 1962

Close, or

from a distance,

it’s hard to tell the difference.

Beginning or end,

enemy or friend.

Give it up,

pretense and defense,

succumb to inevitable,

depravity of senses,

depth charge

and obliteration.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Drinking in Public, 1751

Gradually I feel my head getting cloudy.

I take another sip.

Dizzy, I sway.

Some would say I’m getting more and more

fucked up.

But in this state, I realize, there is clarity.

Less and less, your bullshit has effect.

More and more, I am me.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat