Archive for the ‘Распад’ Category

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Pressure comes in myriad forms.

You don’t truly realize mine,

I don’t yours.

Regardless, in its grip we suffer:

Battered, bruised, traumatized.

Pressurized!

Something’s got to give.

Under pressure, I resign,

scatter the pieces off the board!

Enough of half-truths, banalities and exploitation!

*Id* wants to go home.

(I herewith refuse to answer my phone.)

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wm in Ruins, Berlin, 1945_ Yevgeny Khaldei

I watch the downfall, and I cry …

Strange,

when surely I should rejoice

at the demise

of the one who made themselves my mortal enemy,

but in their hollow eyes, I see myself.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Alenka, Migren, Rabbit Hole

Life manifest,

perfidy and surprise,

series of endless disappointments,

darkness and flashing lights.

… Confusion and delusion,

enlightenment and despair.

… In fallen world, we fall.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

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

The righteous pay the price

for someone else’s sin.

Experiences mock, torment,

remind,

the things that should have been.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Viewing Malevich's Black Square

I’m tired, so fundamentally tired,

disgusted by life in the Fallen World.

Complicated and violated,

exploited constantly,

meaning and purpose get lost.

In darkness,

I fall down.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

2019-10-12_00-20-56

Greed, money, power,

Trumps morality, descent,

lies and betrayal.

2019-10-11_23-43-36

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Starry Night Sky, Trees (Rus)

Winter night.

I go out and look at the sky.

Stars abundant and bright.

I’m impressed, as always,

natural wonderment at firmament,

but distracted, as artificial flashing lights

catch my eye. … Aircraft.

And the moment is lost.

Now, all I can focus on

is the banal, the human where and why.

(Where are they going, and why? …

As if this fallen world is so great!)

I am glad, at least, that human travel in space is minimal

and am mindful enough to pray it remains so.

For, where people go,

they tend to destroy,

exploit,

desecrate.

Even in their dreams.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

B-52 Refuelling

Those heavy airplanes, droning loudly,

an American told me it’s the sound of freedom, rejoice!

I don’t.

Once the noise from above gets into your head,

it gets into your everything,

vibrations,

a horrible, visceral kind of rape,

a violation of body and mind.

Cacophonous, staccato, adagio,

and droning,

contradictory,

and all-encompassing

deep, intensive, droning.

On and on they fly.

How many can there be?

What are they carrying?

Cargo, bombs, materiel?

Where are they going?

Fighting terrorism?

(“Please…”)

My head throbs.

I hate the present, I fear the future.

On and on, the droning goes.

This is the sound of tyranny.

*This* is terrorism.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Perfidy_ Flowers & Knife

Enemies, and friends,

family members, near and dear,

*will* stab you in back.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

8.10 Digitized Sky Survey

Oozing neediness,

still, no one will come to help,

smiling as I drown.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat