Milestones?

Millstones!

Expectations

and flagellations.

Society, others and self drag one under…

… As waves crash on the shore

and life washes away.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Don’t sit, it’s too expensive.

Stand at the café

and walk away.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Naked I stand before them…

They gawk, smirk and laugh,

sensing humiliation, they salivate.

Nothing (much) left to lose, I feel

exposed and strangely liberated,

arms akimbo, I laugh back.

Sensing crazy, they walk away.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Rapidity and run to the market.

Snipers taking pot-shots

and big-shots cashing in

(on our glorious history

and our current misery).

So, this is capitalism?

Like Sarajevo…

The much-vaunted freedom from Communism?

… Your vapidity gives me the shits.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

It’s Summer

and they’re giving away watermelon at the market:

children and adults rush with gleeful abandon,

but nothing is truly free…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

I’m an optimist:

when they leave,

I don’t expect them to come back…

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Human existence…

Limited resistence.

Every now and then you run into a wall,

jaded, wise and cynical,

you realize the futility of it all.

Thousands of years of evolution,

one way or another,

for this?

(Poxy pinnacle!)

Why do we go on?

(Deluding ourselves with stupid songs…)

As a species,

when our primal urges are thwarted,

frustrated,

our lofty ambitions of improvement fail,

banality and futility reign,

and there is no hope,

what,

what is there left to live for?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Detachment,

allows everyone,

disparate,

to progress their agenda,

regardless of carnage.

Drugs, evil, gangs, pain.

Oliver North,

Sheepshead Bay hero,

yes man, can-do man,

are you listening?

Repenting?

Mixed-up,

real Americans,

know it’s complicated.

(…Please desist from blaming us

for everything…)

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

When the atlas meant something…

The promise of both escape and finding oneself.

Wide expanse…

Indeed.

When you could dream

and remember the next day.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Alas!

Moscow, New York, is no more,

if it ever was,

truly.

But always,

one way or another,

it shall remain,

indelibly Russian.

You just need to know

where,

to go.

And peace…

Be quiet,

breathe,

touch the object,

like a lion’s foot,

think

and reflect.

Like: “What comes next?

…Once upon a time…”

©SvetkaSamizdat