Archive for the ‘Detach, My Friend’ Category

Zeppelin_ Pochta SSSR, 1991, Albatros

Apocalypse nigh,

they sneer at the man-child,

just as yesterday, and the day before.

They, who represent normal; they, who always seem to have time to stand around and talk, repetitive, banal babble.

I feel for him, the guy, I can tell his mind is on higher things, he’s doing what he can to survive in this fucked-up world. I feel a connection, even though I don’t know him. I want to reach out, but he’s inured, he stays within himself, focused, he doesn’t meet my gaze. We pass like zeppelins, out of time and place.

Gone, like tomorrow’s gherkins.

Meanwhile, again, the establishment chatters, bemused, selfish, scornful, only their clique matters.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Scary News Headlines

They scare you with their panic talk:

it’s in their interests, they have an agenda,

not yours.

Take a step back, my friends:

we don’t have to do everything they say,

when they say, how they say.

No!

Let’s do things *our way*,

obeying “common sense” and the Golden Rule

(Do unto others as you would have them do unto you)!

Is this a sweet dream?

Dina

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oblomov

I’m tired of the story, the constant indulgence, the character development, the self-righteous soul-baring, the family and friends, the prissy do-gooding, the cooking and lifestyle tips. They seem to think I give a shit (occasionally, I suppose I do). They seem to think that I will stay tuned for inordinate episodes in coming weeks, months and years, to learn how America’s sweetheart gets on in life. But, really, I’ve had my fill. Today, I unplug, unsubscribe, say sayonara, goodbye. … Go back to reading Oblomov.

tishe 1

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

NSK 2016.05.01_ Pos s vami

When *things* seem to lose meaning,

when inversion and perversion become the norm,

when figureheads disgrace themselves,

when one set of money and power fights another,

when the people (the masses, so as to say) are spat-upon pawns…

It’s OK, don’t despair, turn on the TV,

go online, browse Twitter…

There are myriad experts who will tell you what to think,

what to believe, what to know,

self-proclaimed experts who delight in the cacophony of confusion…

No, no, it isn’t true, it’s all delusion:

Elvis, indeed, has left the building.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unplugged

I’ve seen enough,

experienced too much,

my mind is fucked,

time to unplug.

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Ch 7, USA

I’m worn out, drained,

I’ve had enough…

When are you going to go back

to being

peripheral?

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Read, Books, Dream, Fly

It’s OK,

I don’t either…

I don’t feel very heroic today.

So, let’s float…

Together, separately,

as we will.

Imperatives can wait,

go away,

be ignored.

“Revolt!” I say

and

“Leave us in peace.”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Pavlov's Dogs

 

You, me, we…

The powers that be manipulate,

we salivate,

yesterday, tomorrow,

every day,

fashionable agendas set,

targets met,

they screw us for all we’ve got

(and then some more!).

Lies, promises, delusions,

bogus stimuli,

whatever it takes

to violate

and desecrate

your

soul.

Unable to help ourselves,

we lose control,

our minds are putty.

… Suggestible,

digestible,

defenceless.

… They rape us at will.

Pavlov’s dogs.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

So, you switch on the TV

and watch the news, in French.

You understand some French,

the rest you give the benefit of the doubt,

the moving pictures help,

and you enjoy the in-depth, interesting,

intelligent coverage.

The TV channel changes.

Beyond your control…

More news, different language,

big let down.

Alas, English, you fully understand,

and you are depressed by the banality

of the reportage,

the idiocy of the story.

Perspective,

defective.

Governmental, societal stooges

wanna drag you into the shit.

Will you let them get away with it?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat