Archive for the ‘Vignette’ Category

Spill

Seconds from being happy,

I spill my coffee …

 

(To be continued…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Plums, Methley

“Go for the low hanging fruit,” he said.

Uncomprehending, she paused, then smiled:

“Oh, you mean the testicles!”

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Palmen am Meer_

She simpers and blows him a kiss.

(Some kind of idyll and bliss…)

He feels a tantalizing breeze on his cheek,

in his mind

he sees her…

*Fresh*,

fresh

as Palmen am Meer,

Tanzmusik aus Kambodscha.

… Schöne Tag,

1968.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Alexandre Dumas & Adah Isaacs Menken, 1866

Right day, wrong year…

I watch some TV,

This thing they show me…

Alas, it’s all too apparent,

mediocrity pays.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

Forest Fire

The death of a loved one,

so traumatic, I’ll never forget,

and always regret,

the torrent

of destruction that followed.

Unholy purgatory,

minions of hell,

perverted concepts of revenge.

All so unnecessary,

curse and theft,

it breaks my heart

perpetually.

Life amongst the living dead,

alas, selfish,

perfidious clan.

Goodbye.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

1934

Lilli’s mother,

who remains at heart a Nazi,

once told her:

it is good for children to play in dirt.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

 

 

 

 

He’d drunk enough to be honest, open.

“You’re not like other women,” he said,

“You know, they go on and on and on, non-stop talking, idiotic things. I wanna scream SHUT THE FUCK UP. Women like that, hah, they’re the main reason men like blowjobs. You know, with a mouthful of cock, finally she’s quiet!”

He laughed at his joke and swallowed another drink.

I raised my eyebrows and remained silent, smiling condescendingly.

Men and women aren’t so different after all.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I reflect, instantly,

subconsciously,

involuntarily,

and overwhelmingly aware,

all too aware,

I shake my throbbing head

(it doesn’t help):

such pressure,

over such a shitty banality,

minutes and hours of life

wasted,

repeatedly,

day after day,

out of control,

rabbit hole,

frog spawn,

maggot salad,

horse meat,

human flesh,

wasps’ nest,

crumbling mess…

the garbage may

or may not

be collected.

Triviality sucks.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Bus and Princess,

two words that surely do not belong in the same sentence,

yet, today the absurdity of my reality

coalesced,

hitting home again,

with those very words,

clearly heard,

leading me to despair,

and introspection.

… Am I beyond repair?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

“Merd-iterranean!” I repeated, fawning.

“Oh, Mozart, you’re so witty!”

I shivered as he slid his hand up my leg, indecently probing my nether regions, groping, squeezing.

I simpered, obsequious.

… How could I say no to the genius?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat