Archive for the ‘Свобода?’ Category

Musing on the nature of freedom and progress,

time and changes,

peace and prosperity,

he looks at the old washing machine his neighbors

in East Germany gave him,

a goodbye and goodwill present:

strange to you in hindsight,

ardent in intent.

Alas, dirt sticks.

Time and changes,

different system,

different connections,

pressure

like a headache:

the machine spins but doesn’t wash.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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I see a squirrel, red,

running to the trees.

Sad, alas, the Captain’s dead,

his soul gone,

free.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Of course,

she wants freedom,

it’s normal to aspire to such a dream.

She hikes west over mountains,

and through the forests and meadows of Tirol,

seeking.

But what does society ever actually allow?

Money in exchange for your labor (and soul).

Repression to add to your depression.

Regulation, restriction, constriction,

and not even the freedom to shit

when you want and/or need.

Meanwhile, in prison…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Freedom of travel, they say,

if you can afford the Visa.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I saw the 7-11 store & was surprised at the name…

(In America, they honor the date?)

Maybe it was for people, like me,

to help adjust to the Decadent West.

Somehow…

So I went inside

and was lost.

*Sigh*…

Of course,

here and there,

everything is perverted,

and even numbers lie.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

To the onlooker I was,

probably degraded

and definitely compromised.

So, what to do

but fantasize?

Remembering my old Izhmash

and picturing what I would do,

shot by shot to you.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

He asked me go bottomless. After all, he said, men like all pussies and don’t judge them the same way they do tits, so what’s to fear? He wanted me to be in his new film, a wannabe college sorority hazing. I was to be the exchange student (again!).

In his wisdom, he reminded me that men are the opposite of women: bottomless men are judged by size, bottomless women are not. The complexities of that can of worms were lost on him.

What could I say? He was offering good money.

 

©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

 

Yes, things suck, I quite agree,

but it’s hard to imagine it being

any

other

way.

So, let me be…

In relative peace

and comparative security.

…Pseudo-free.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

Naked I stand before them…

They gawk, smirk and laugh,

sensing humiliation, they salivate.

Nothing (much) left to lose, I feel

exposed and strangely liberated,

arms akimbo, I laugh back.

Sensing crazy, they walk away.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat