 |
 |
 |
 |
x x x
Back to the poetry
Back to the dreams
Of my usual
Confusion,
Illusion
Will do all its usual
Work,
From the centuries
Coming up now…
To words,
Seventh chords
And my favourite -
Attitude…
x x x
No.
Just no.
You see I'm low.
Feel.
Just feel.
You know I heal.
Fly.
Just fly.
I don't like to cry.
Be.
Just be.
Sometimes I'm not me.
Go.
Just go.
Don't wanna know.
Lie.
Just lie.
You're not so high.
Blow.
Just blow.
I need to feel low.
Flee.
Just flee.
So, I'm on my knee.
x x x
Coming up the road,
Thinking about her...
Looking up the highway,
Remembering the war...
Walking tired and slowly,
Moving injured legs,
Feeling cold and lonely,
Imagining those tags.
Logging in the memory...
Trying to believe...
Going to the city,
Reviving to receive...
Dream about her body...
Growing for the feet's...
Lying to myself...
Plunging into seats...
Watching play of silence...
Breathing hard all day...
Hiding is the knowledge,
Knowing is the way...
x x x
I'm again in the lack of vigor,
I'm again falling from the tree, for
I again fooled myself with thee, or
Am I wrong, please, tell me ?
Shadow's
Unthinkable our life seems without shadows.
And after all the shadow is the child of light,
So, if there are still shadows on this Earth,
That means that something still remains as bright.
Some say that shadows are useless and decry
Their unattractive look and manner always shy,
But they forget that shadow is the shield
Preventing us from sunburn of the sky.
It seems that shadows are flat and gray on walls,
But when you make the light shine from the needed angle,
The shadows become so wide and tall,
That we can feel that we are being strangled.
Though shadow is gray, it has the sharpest contours,
And if we look at our shadow in the night,
We may find out our inner problems
And somehow really make them seem untied.
I have a friend - a shadow, who's always in
The course of human life and other persons' fate.
He's keen on everything though he did not get chance
To try it up and to unlock that crate.
x x x
Life, like a teardrop of a rain,
Slips along the glass of pain,
Leaving on it's path a stain
Of the lifetime spent in vain.
x x x
Never touch that string,
for the tension's too high.
Never stretch your wings -
in the end you will cry.
Never try to break
through the darkness of sky
Never do the things
which aren't fixed and untied...
x x x
Enchanted room this is
With tender silence,
A place, where you can
Always find a home.
In the demolished world
Of selfish violence -
A little temple with
A painted dome.
x x x
One step back -
And you're lying on the floor
Being thus betrayed by whore
Such a lack…
x x x
Dancing bodies in the hall...
Moving shadows on the wall...
Slow music, paying toll...
People, trying to recall
Sweetest moments in their lives...
Awkward husbands, vulgar wives...
Unrevealed hidden strives...
Undergowned sharpened knives...
x x x
Walking in the crowd…
Feeling glad and proud…
Being not allowed
To forget about
All the time around
Being in the crowd…
x x x
Little stream of belief flows across your young soul,
From the Oceans of Virgin to the Mature Pole.
And as it approaches the pole for the gold,
It grows more thinner, it grows more cold.
x x x
It goes without words when you see a conclusion…
No thoughts to decline… just pass over as usual.
No minutes to waste over beings in self,
No power to rise to the glory and wealth…
x x x
Bundle of sticks in my hand,
I'm gonna stick them in sand,
On the judicial land.
Bundle of flags in my hand,
They are with sticks to be bent,
On the judicial sand.
I'll stick a flag of my mind,
I'll stick a flag of my soul,
I'll stick them all of my kind.
I'll stick a flag of my world,
Place, where no memory's sold,
Place, where no people are cold.
I'll stick a flag of my love,
Being so high and above,
Knowing no words as "enough".
I'll stick a flag for my friends,
Living in far holy lands,
Giving each other their hands.
Once I've stuck all my sticks,
Tired from dull endless tricks,
Having no cracks and no leaks,
Sand will arise from the land,
Making a castle of sand,
Having no start and no end.
Castle will have no walls,
Strong, so that no wave rolls
Could ever bring down the walls.
Towers will put on the flags
Bent to the sticks on the sand
On the judicial land.
x x x
I was going to write a romantic poem about a crying sky,
But who needs this shit, and so I ask myself a question -
"Why shall I ?"
I'll tell you boy, why you do have to write
To make your thoughts and dreams all fly untied
To have a freedom in your feelings
To have a soul with eager willings
Now stop to write,
Go down and hide…
x x x
Waves, hair waves…
Sixteen days…
Waves and eyes…
Beautiful eyes…
Sad… and lies…
Flies to fade…
Could be made…
Bid to done…
Dreams were gone…
Long before…
Further - more…
Silent roar…
x x x
Rhyme flies through lies,
Which turn to truth,
While bitter proof,
Sent from the skies,
Crashes the roof.
|
|
|
|