So, pretend it’s my Birthday,
and you want me to be happy.
Can we also pretend that everything is OK?
That we’re living in harmony.
That things are the way they should be.
That machines work and people have heart,
compassion,
truly caring about (*every*) each other.
… Peaceful bliss!
Can we imagine, hope, believe,
the seemingly impossible?
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Politicians and media impressed,
it was a peaceful protest:
Marchers clanging pots and pans,
banging drums,
waving banners and flags.
Message stated,
message heard.
Peaceful protest.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
As I look at the sky, and breathe, I realize
tomorrow’s tiredness is worth tonight’s peace.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
I’m happy for you,
really, I am,
your wholesome existential glee.
But please now, be quiet, stay away,
pray think of me,
for whom
your exuberance is draining.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
“Oh my god!
I’m speechless!”
she exclaimed,
something about shampoo.
… Speechless?
Seems not, alas,
but we can hope and wish.
… World peace.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
When your time of contemplation
becomes a thing of expectation…
beware
and despair,
you’re no longer “there”.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
You ask me how I write.
Well…
and free.
A gift from God,
indeed.
A passion…
I listen to the voice within,
sometimes it sings.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Shut the doors and windows,
Turn the TV off.
People confuse and distract,
like cataracts.
…
Silence child,
Listen within,
search wisdom,
meditate.
Your destiny awaits!
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
So, I watched Touched By An Angel
(It’s funny the things they let/make you watch on the communal TV in this prison…)
And I’m touched with how, apparently,
God sends His Angels to people who don’t believe in Him.
Actually, that kinda sucks, I think
(Like, where’s my Angel, I believe and I totally need…),
Indeed, as I say my prayers,
I think it all very unfair…
And, I consider, that if you don’t believe in God,
then He shouldn’t believe in you.
…
I try and convey that as best I can to one of the guards,
he laughs, mocks, pushes me down.
Why, I reflect, would I even try?
*SHUT UP!*
I give up.
I acquiesce.
Solitary confinement, I exhale.
And… nothing.
… Nothing.
Ahh…
Silence is bliss.
Perhaps that is my Angel,
after all, maybe I have one:
her name is
peace.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
