Archive for the ‘Страдание’ Category

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

People are idiotic

and yet we listen to their words,

allowing hurt to linger in our minds,

hate to penetrate our souls.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Natalya Guseva

My visitor from the future,

alas,

has become a ghost from the past.

Men, women, systems,

self-interest, manipulations and power plays,

what chance does our idealism ever stand?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1.19 (2020) a

Life, I’m told,

gets progressively worse.

The longer we live, it seems,

the more pain we experience.

Perhaps, hopefully,

there are moments of peace and happiness mixed in,

but is the dispersal of such equal among everyone?

Alas, obviously not.

… Evolution of the species.

Wishing better for Epiphany.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Doza alkogolia (Veltins)

Please do not condemn the quiet one,

they might seem morose,

look unkempt, rough…

Forgive them if they do not reply to your words,

in their sensitivity, they are repulsed by babble

and trivialities,

their minds are already full of conversation,

words and hurt…

They are thinking, it’s a compulsion,

feel pity for them.

If they look longingly at a bottle, do not criticize,

they are doing what they can

to survive.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Broken 3

Seized with terror,

sickened inside,

as I’m reminded (yet again!)

of my isolation

and fragility,

in the face of constant struggle,

total futility.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…

I’m tired of fighting!

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Plyaska Smerti 1

We survived the great trauma.

Apparently, that was our big mistake.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Tsar Bomba 2

Sometimes it is nice

to hear silence,

embrace nothingness.

I drink it in,

feeling refreshed,

until my moment is shattered,

as always it seems,

by some idiot person or dog,

exuberant in their self-importance,

existential in their offensive noise.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Hoefletelegram

Preacher’s preaching a message the people like, it suits the mood of the times, indeed, everybody wants to move beyond condemnation and guilt.

I feel it. I get it. I understand it. Grace and forgiveness, the Love of God manifest, a new Covenant. Yes!

And yet, strongly within, experience and wisdom are speaking to me, over-riding the emotion.

Then, Preacher cites the example of no speed limit on German Autobahns. And it’s over for me.

(Americans and their obsession with liberty!)

I shout at the TV: “And they used to have free-season on Jews too! But that doesn’t make it right!”

Wisdom speaks to me, it’s innate and overwhelming, the world would be a better place if actually more people were aware of and compelled by feelings of condemnation and guilt. They might actually stop being so self-centered and act in the common good, considering others, abiding by the “Golden Rule”.

This is my angst-ridden seasonal and timeless message.

Take it as you will.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Dozhd, Okno

The storm fills every crevice of my being,

pounding, bludgeoning my body and soul,

destroying my faith in nature

(whatever that means).

The wind roars, non-stop invective,

insulting, it seems, all that is holy,

as the rain continues to fall in torrents,

deluge, destroying, flooding,

washing away all hope.

The storm fills every crevice of my being,

what’s worse, I know it’ll still be with me tomorrow,

mocking, in calmness and sunshine,

its effects and its essence will linger.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

2019-12-04_01-47-14

Temporality passes,

by definition they imply,

but this denies the pain

that seems everlasting.

This “thing” passes?

Maybe, but as far as I remember,

it’s all I’ve ever known.

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat