Archive for the ‘Existential Angst’ Category

Broken 3

Hopefully, by the time you read this

it is no longer contemporaneous;

the feeling, I pray, has passed,

and despairing misery

has become differently.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Looking Over Cliff

Life…

Gradually the abyss is normalized.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1 (Pain)

In a happy place,

until, waking, reminded:

reality bites.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Broken Eggs 3

Always somebody is ready to point the finger,

attributing blame,

implying guilt,

demanding penance.

After so long, one can be driven to despair,

or, to apparent detachment.

Regardless of reason,

mud sticks and accusations sting.

Alas, again, I stand accused.

… What is done, cannot be undone.

Like broken eggs,

progress.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Lucretia, Suicide 5a

Immensity hits,

(existential fucking shit!)

eviscerates soul.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Volcanic Mud

This life, like a diabolical futility treadmill,

going nowhere but round and round,

always more shit to keep us “grounded”,

“knowing our place”,

stuck in quicksand.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Black Hole

What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,

in an sense, may be true,

but does it make us live any longer?

In yoga, it is said,

the body only has so many breaths to breathe.

Stress imposed,

complications, problems,

constant bombardment of shit,

in the long-run,

does not help anyone.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Flat World

It turns out, in fact,

that my world is flat.

This I discover, alas,

when I am at the edge.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Voda, temnota, puzyr'ki vozdukha

Alas, in my pursuit of existential meaning,

knowledge, enlightenment, feeling,

I get lost in details,

digressions,

banalities …

More and more,

I am suffocating,

drowning.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Grave Stones

Suicide is not legitimate,

says the man in the ivory tower.

From a comfortable position,

he is free to think and philosophize.

He who doesn’t know true agony, pain,

hopelessness, futility,

screaming-in-my-head existential absurdity,

he is always quick to cast the first stone.

 

(To be continued…)

       

©SvetkaSamizdat