Archive for the ‘Kolbasa’ Category

Outside, I approached the car.

Inside, he watched carefully.

Slowly, he wound the window down.

I could hear Nautilus Pompilius playing,

one track transitioned into another,

a homemade cassette.

I smiled inwardly.

I knew we would have something to talk about.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

You drool as you sleep,

salty residue left on your pillow.

Epic life memories, mainly forgotten.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Free speech on one side of the border means practically the opposite of the other.

Free? Yes, if it’s acceptable to the powers that be.

*Free?*

Not really.

They declare:

Choose which side you’re on.

Renounce as applicable,

past despicable.

I despair.

Indeed.

Society loves complicated simplification…

Reinventing the wheel,

toxic, caustic peel.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

The child’s face showed she didn’t approve.

It wasn’t sweet, true,

but I liked it.

Perhaps my taste was moderated,

I reasoned,

by an adult’s appreciation of cost, convenience and health.

Indeed, adult considerations.

As I reflected upon such realities

the juice tasted better

and better,

beyond banalities.

Such is life.

Get used to it, kid!

 

©ddr7hd

 

“Okay class,” the teacher said one day, “I’ve got really nice Christmas presents for half of you – the rest of you, well, you can have envy.”

Life lessons.

The teacher likes apples, not candy.

All rise.

Let us forsake the gift of envy.

 

Okay, I refuse to censor myself,

here and now, yesterday,

neither do I recant.

It is true,

I do hate her,

for what she became,

for what she went along with,

for what she stole,

for what she left behind.

Yet, I do realize she was a victim too.

The people surrounding,

self-righteous, twisted motherfuckers

that they were, are and remain,

quintessence of evil,

brethren of shame.

*They* are the true villains,

and may they and *theirs* rot in perpetuity.

And then there’s me.

So utterly betrayed,

it lingers every day.

Beyond borders,

time and space.

Pain.

Pure pain.

 

 

Perhaps I’ve said too much.

Perhaps I haven’t said enough.

Perhaps I’m paraphrasing REM.

Perhaps too many people have looked through the window and seen me naked.

Perhaps I squeezed too much out of the tube,

moisturizer all over the floor.

C’est la vie!

As Mamma used to say:

Well, it ain’t going back into the peehole now.

So, suck it up.

The unsmiling wench brought me my Weißbier.

I tried to be friendly.

Like, fuck off and die.

I drank some bier and ate kolbasa,

remembering a time of nightmares,

my life,

here, now and yesterday,

every day,

pain,

betrayal,

and more pain.

What hope?

To my grandmother, I’d like to say:

Hope you’re in hell (on Earth),

perfidious cunt,

you and your diseased minions,

and

suck it up, motherfucker,

fire and brimstone,

woe is you.

Happy cunting Anniversary.