Archive for the ‘Я не знаю’ Category

She asked me what I had been doing.

Reading and learning, I replied.

“What?”

I scanned my mind, trying to pin down the essential pieces of knowledge,

the wisdom,

obscured by the clutter of information,

open to interpretation.

“Uhhh…

That the truth is buried somewhere within the lies.”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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You see what you wanna see,

yes, I agree,

when I hear what I wanna hear.

(Let me be!)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

How can people so far apart

be neighbors?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Sometimes one more letter makes all the difference,

sometimes there’s no sitting on the fence.

Sometimes you wish things could go back

to the way they used to be,

before we knew we weren’t free,

supposedly,

alas. …

Indeed!

The politics of identity.

… Baloney

and imposed aspirations

make for crappy sandwiches at work

and confused kitchen table talk in the evenings.

Lest we regret, this is life.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Vis-à-vis,

mon ami,

be careful what you wish for,

it might be a cliché,

like yesterday,

and heartbeats…

(perhaps you only have so many)

…minutes at the beach.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

So, how are we to play?

Remembering the passage of time:

loss,

and lost,

flow and stagnation,

obscured reflection,

water in a dirty ditch.

The Chess set has fairly nice pieces,

but the board is so worn,

and I can’t forgive the missing pawn.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Too stark, she says,

this thing we have done,

contrasting bad and good,

replacing wrong with “right”…

revolutions and intentions.

Pause, reflect,

so much lost,

a relative black hole.

Indeed, we need to ameliorate,

find appropriate red paint,

restore our fate.

… Is it possible?

Tomorrow…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Something beautiful,

or at least I thought it was,

and/or wanted it to be.

Now tarnished,

sullied with hurt and pain.

Communication breakdown.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

It’s Summer

and they’re giving away watermelon at the market:

children and adults rush with gleeful abandon,

but nothing is truly free…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

It’s World Fair Trade Week,

whatever that means.

“Like, fair trade prostitution?” I ask.

… Unexploited, with no pimps.

An honest and fair exchange.

Is it possible?

… In this age where sex is no longer sacred,

well, maybe.

But, then, *everything* is a commodity,

and *everyone* wants the best deal.

… And money is tighter than your ass.

So…

Likely, no.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat