Archive for the ‘Communication Breakdown’ Category

S/he talks a little,

detached, perfunctory,

I reply sufficiently

(no more).

I have no desire for a thaw,

I still hurt,

my wounds are open,

bleeding, …

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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I say: Filateliya…

I want to show you some of my collection,

history and appreciation,

some kind of essence,

essentially

I’m reaching out.

You think I say: Philadelphia…

and you walk away.

 

©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

 

We don’t need enemies,

we have each other.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

You keep talking.

Either you’re an optimist

or a moron.

 

©ddr7hd

 

It was a tumultuous time,

with few moments of comfort.

He asked his grandfather to record a TV program: Great Russian Writers, the Anton Chekhov episode.

His grandfather asked if he was a Communist.

He didn’t get it.

 

“Just” and “Nothing”,

two of my least favorite words,

often inaccurate and incomplete,

they diminish intent and sentiment.

What are you doing?

… Just now? Nothing.

Oh, you’re just a girl,

with nothing to worry about…

Just look at this mess!

You’ve done nothing in all this time!

NOTHING!

Just read this

and just do that.

 

“Just” and “Nothing” =

just nothing.

Practically meaningless.

But what else would I expect

in this world

where it seems

there is nothing just.

 

So, you try to learn the language.

It’s hard in dull surrounds.

Still, you gather the essentials.

And, as you’re that way inclined, you add it all up, you fit the jigsaw pieces together. Bit by bit. … Messy picture. Weird statistics. Tired, tiring, tiresome compulsion. God help you. … Eventually, you realize 60% of the words boil down to genitalia and objectionable people, the other 40% encapsulate variations of GET LOST and GO AWAY.

Hard to believe but it’s true.

No wonder you find it hard to communicate.

This world has lost its way, if ever it knew it.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, ahh SCREW IT.

Communication breakdown.

I offer my sympathy but you brush it aside, time after time, so wrapped up in pain, I know, I know, I try to console but you continue to writhe and complain, and it hurts, me.

Me?

How did this become about me?

Your pain becomes my offence and grief.

But isn’t it always, about me?

No matter compassionate we seem,

we can only truly relate when it’s personally felt.

So, go on, baby, spread the misery.

And I’ll induce some self-inflicted sympathy pain.