Archive for the ‘Existential Angst’ Category

Charles the Bald 1b

Charles the Bald (not to be confused with Charles the Bold),

may or may not have actually been bald (depending upon what is meant by bald).

This year, if you want to give me a present, so as to say,

don’t give me anything new,

s’il vous plaît.

The past is quite enough to deal with.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1

Perpetual motion …

That thing you did yesterday,

must be done again.

… Banal “joys” apparently

never end.

 

(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

 

 

 

 

 

Ilya Repin_ Nichilista, 1883

They questioned my loyalty,

but I did not swear fealty,

to them or their system,

I made no oath,

not even to myself.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Blows, Hope_

It’s not the end of the world,

so as to say.

But, yes, actually it kind of is …

Here and now, this time and place,

for the individual and collective,

this very minute:

Gone, blown away.

 

(To be continued…)

               

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Конец света (Ukr)

My head feels cold inside,

my heart rises into my throat,

I feel ill, overwhelmed,

betrayed by life and family,

sensing, knowing

impending doom

soon to thunder downstairs.

 

(To be continued…

hopefully)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

v2

So many thoughts,

so many ideas,

insights, realizations,

paths to

enlightenment.

So many voices outside

and in,

clamoring,

trying,

vying,

to make me blind.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

0

Pressure comes in myriad forms.

You don’t truly realize mine,

I don’t yours.

Regardless, in its grip we suffer:

Battered, bruised, traumatized.

Pressurized!

Something’s got to give.

Under pressure, I resign,

scatter the pieces off the board!

Enough of half-truths, banalities and exploitation!

*Id* wants to go home.

(I herewith refuse to answer my phone.)

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucretia, Suicide 5a

Life sucks and then you die,

perceptive teenager cries,

adult winces.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Bleeding Heart, Arrow

Making the world a better place,

as you feel compelled, today.

Robbing Peter to pay Paul, as they say.

But who decides which is which, the worthiest?

Alas, tomorrow’s perspective will be different.

Perhaps, at best,

we can complicate each other out of existence.

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat