Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category

Foto Album 1

My life, my memories, my agonies.

All things past, today seem farce.

Flashbacks,

yesterday’s gladness,

now sadness.

Pain and betrayal cast a shadow over all…

I regret every wasted effort,

every unprotected breath.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

osenniy_park_i_relsy

Soft seat, or hard?

We’re equal, more or less.

… Forward,

forward,

Vyborg!

… Minds on fire.

The train will reach it’s destination

regardless of heart’s desire.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

….

 

Mauer fällt

Gradually, I put the pieces together,

ultimately, then

the edifice crumbles,

and the wall

falls.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I was an idiot,

sad but true.

Let’s blame it on youthful ignorance,

indiscretion,

being in a rush to find and express myself,

still, I blush,

remembering…

I was an idiot yesterday.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Aus 1

And me,

with only one Ruble

and one Dollar

to my name.

Indeed, the Dollar is Australian,

whatever that means.

Nonetheless,

I have peace.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Perfidy, Betrayal. Knife & Flowers Behind Back

 

Memories that stick,

like fish bones in throat.

Nothing chokes like family.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

He asked me if I remembered the halcyon days of childhood,

where things were hard but simple.

Joy and knowledge gained through such pursuits as learning the Paschal Greeting in as many different languages as possible.

Writing it down,

it took time,

and effort,

a job well worth while,

True Spiritual outreach…

mostly now forgotten.

“Do you remember?” he asked, once again.

“Yes,” I replied.

Christ is risen!

Indeed, He is risen!

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Hitler said that if you wanted a certain job done

you had to get the Latvians involved.

He spoke (it’s recorded)

in condescending tones

about how they would do the things

no one else could do,

implying the Latvians were scum,

more or less,

from an obvious analysis.

But really, with wisdom applied,

between the printed lines,

it’s apparent,

Hitler feared the Latvians.

…FEARED!

And now, we forget…

Decadent deference,

histories swallowed,

and lost dichotomies of self-defence.

©ddr7hd

Her name was Arina.

She asked me if DDR meant

Deutsche Demokratische Republik

or

Das Dritte Reich.

“Hmmmm…” I said out loud,

“Since Königsberg became Kaliningrad,

is there any difference?”

At that point I felt a chill,

a whisper from the past,

a memory of intense cruelty,

of wanting to do unto others

as they have done unto you.

Sometimes wishful thinking,

sometimes real,

sometimes you don’t really want to,

but an order’s an order and,

when the Barrier Troops are behind you,

you do what you have to do.

I felt another chill,

looked down

and saw blood on the floor,

it was me,

bleeding,

such vivid red…

 

I had, I am sure,

an abnormal childhood and adolescence.

A product of who, when and where I am from,

external manipulations,

my sensitivities.

I saw the movie Grandview USA in 1993.

It was new to me.

I felt like I belonged, somehow.

From the opening credits, homely, inviting,

I felt at ease.

I wanted to be the girl in the bikini

with the Frisbee

(hard to believe?),

happy,

free.

I hoped things hadn’t changed too much

in the almost decade

since the film had been made.

Indeed.

I wanted a home.

I could dream.