Archive for the ‘Existential Angst’ Category

Migren, Headache, Tee, Utro

Sometimes, the more I think,

the less it makes sense,

the more it hurts,

the more impossible “success” seems,

the less everything apparently means.

Now is one such time,

alas, one amongst many.

… Agony, intelligence, angst.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Savitsky_ Monk, 1897

Even in the best of times,

he knew *that* wasn’t him,

and these *are not* the best of times,

that is certain.

He broods, he frowns,

wryly then he smiles,

an honest, if flawed, man.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Led Zeppelin (Rus)

Feeling pained result,

not understanding process:

record skips, repeats.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Sunbathing_ Jurmala, Latvija, 2010

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she said, sighing.

“No,” I replied, “The world revolves around an evil, heaving, ball of gas and chaos which, sooner or later, is going to kill everyone, yet, regardless, they worship it.”

“You think too much,” she frowned, condescending pity.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Blows, Hope_

As is natural among the desperate

(which is to say, most of us),

she reads too much into the other’s gesture.

Hope springs, somewhat eternal,

beyond inevitable;

we don’t *truly* want to believe infernal.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Hole In Wall

That thing which I seemed to brush off yesterday,

haunts and taunts me today,

makes me less likely to…

Do anything tomorrow.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Fingerprints (Schwarz & Rot)

Pain seeps soul away;

or maybe it’s who we are:

sum experience.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Cuckoo Clock, Crooked, Kucku

Time marches on,

relentlessly, mercilessly, mockingly.

Time evaporates,

desecrates, eviscerates, obliterates.

Hope, gone.

Resistance, futile.

Tomorrow, die, or do it all again.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Fetal Position 1

It starts with a myriad of thoughts,

brain-flooding, torrent of negativity.

Then, all-consuming agony,

radiating from my head

to my everything.

I drift in & out of consciousness,

transitioning into a throbbing nothingness,

where pain overwhelms, totally,

making thought beyond the agony’s essence

impossible.

… This is existence?

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Vremya, broken

That thing which worked yesterday no longer seems to

(another thing to add to the list!).

It probably can be fixed, but it’ll cost,

and I’d have to know the right people.

Simultaneously, another set of demands assert primacy,

as always, like maniacal chirping birds, dementing,

and fatigue is overwhelming.

… I can only fight so many battles, right? …

Alas, much like Jurgis’ leaking roof, it’ll continue to mock:

another broken object, machine,

another piece of me.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat