Archive for the ‘Я не понимаю…’ Category

How can people so far apart

be neighbors?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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The word on the street?

Crude and banal propaganda.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I was in a good place

until around you came,

with your crappy chess set,

making me play your game.

 

©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

 

At school

your children are learning about our way of life,

as somebody sees it.

(Way of life?

I scoff!

You think we have a *way* of “life”?)

Like brutal Buddhists, perhaps,

who can sentence you to hell on earth

or put you to death

because it is not really the end

(conscience clear),

you will be reborn as a grasshopper.

Way of life and death,

endless cycle of impossible,

beyond apprehension,

outside human comprehension.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Slough of despondency,

my sensitive soul mourns:

liberal society,

apex depravity.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Time’s up, I’m told.

Funny, I didn’t even know the clock was ticking, that I had to be mindful of an end.

Strange, I thought “this” would last forever,

beautifully sweet, sour and indescribable,

it feels like it’s been my everything for so long,

alas, I’ll miss it and what I thought it was or could have become,

possibilities.

Gone.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

“You’ve heard of the bald-hairy-bald-hairy theory, for our leaders, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I apply it to women,” he said, looking downward, meaningfully, expectantly…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Fuck you and your election (!)

your protest march,

your commentary.

“Progressive”, “conservative”,

exploiters and oppressors all!

Fuck your democracy,

function and form,

your hollow ideas of society,

the machinery,

benefiting the few,

screwing the masses,

deluding and coercing,

sucking dry.

Let me be,

me.

Peace and sanity.

Deal with the weather.

Forecast history.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Sick joke.

After the deluge, flood,

gut-wrenching damage,

heart-broken people,

sunshine has the temerity to break through,

shine.

I grimace in the glare.

What solace?

Perverted grace.

Salt.

… Mockery and farce.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat