Poem: 1933-1945

 
 

We would like you to enlist in our services.

For some people, war is war. For others – dear mother. Russian Proverb 

 

The painting of slogans on buildings
Young people were attracted to a group that offered adventure
Distinctive military appearances
Who achieved more?
We were all keeping score

The unquestioned leader
Officers and politicians
Ugh, so nationalistic
My brother, he had
A stern political career
Damaged
In the postwar years
He blamed his associates

Secret meetings
Apocalyptic trains
That would combust all of a sudden
Confidential minutes of a downhill argument
When you’re Russian they think you’re very clever
All a hoax
From the flood, a new world will be born
Signs and wonders are seen
From the unruly flood
Come Holy Spirit creator
Salvation is to befall

 

Ukraine

Liberation of humanity
Whine about wretched nest eggs
His lack of success
No chance of survival
Less-than-mediocre poet
He died just like that

Nobody cried about it

 


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Poem: In your company

How do I tell you, that you’re the love of my life
That sometimes when I daydream
I picture being your wife
I know I act like a diva
But I’ll take any ring you can afford
Life has been hard on us
I want so bad to console you
To adore you, never control you
I’m finding it so hard to say the right things

Please always be here, right at my wing
I need you so I cannot break
My head on your shoulder
Your hand on my spine
If I could, I would be with you, all of the time

You let me decorate the walls with fashion and moons
Bridal advertisements for their colors and luxe
With you I’m fucked out of luck
I’lll never have you how I want
You don’t think I understand you, you’re making the wrong bet
If you were a school of fish I’d be your fishnet
Save you from the perils of the sea
Surgically transform your gills into breathing mechanisms

I can’t believe I’m saying this but you know I would die for you
And that couldn’t be more true
But in your company I am dying myself
Succumbing to pain
It hurts
So
Much
To not be able to reach you like I want
To you it’s like I’m writing in an illegible font
I’m looking right at you but you’re glancing away
Between us there’s so goddamn much we have to say
I get on my knees and beg you to try things my way

With you I’m fucked out of luck
I’ll never have you how I want
In your company I’m dying already

It’s been a slow, debilitating, painful death
I’m close to reaching the heavenly sunset
I love you forever
Say goodbye to my pets

Poem: Ivory white bones


roses, coffee, petal of a rose

I’m out of bed
Looking around
Like
This
Is
My
Life
And I live here
Breathe here
Lay in bed all day like I’m Lana Del Rey 
Nothing special
Cool like ice 
If I had someone to buy me diamonds that’d be nice 
And faux fur so soft that you think it’s mink 
I’m headed for a revolution, I think

Lately I don’t feel right
Something isn’t set in stone 
They’re small, my ivory white bones 
I wonder particularly what their colors are
I wonder if he can think about me when we’re displaced so far
Blueberries and coffee
Strawberries and pie 
I got tired of thinking I needed a guy 
I can pitch a tent and perfectly tie a tie 
I’m the one that gets to be the bad guy 

Sometimes I huddle up real small
It helps when there’s darling, sparkling rainfall 
I’m still scared of monsters
They walk on the streets 
I’m afraid of the boys that crawl into sleeping girls’ bedsheets 
Without saying a thing

You on my planet?  
I could use a friend
I have too many things to comprehend 
Too paranoid of my notebooks to be found
I close my eyes and I spin around 

I spin around
Touchdown 
Take me down
Just take me somewhere nice and let me spin for now 

Find me dead downtown

 


D O V E

I woke up today

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Dandelions
in the summertime

Keepsakes

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Love to have the breeze go by
stored memories

Your favorite band

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plays on the radio
feed your head


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Gem

Poem: Reflections on tobacco

Reflections on tobacco

I’ve been occupying myself with novel things so I don’t have to think.

I’m gracious, I stopped smoking cigarettes

I didn’t smoke them because they made me feel good; I’d go out for the brief “thinking hour,” the time I had with myself. 

And if someone was smoking with me, I was still swimming somewhere near the branches of the distances pointing inward of my mind. Swimming in circles. Taking private jet planes. 

I think of picking the habit up again (foolish) just to rest my leg on the side of a closed storefront and come to terms with what is and what was. 

I can do that now, if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. Mold like clay. Sweet summer’s day. 

I hope I don’t meet anyone who smokes soon.

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Poem: Our warm bedroom

Last night I had a poem stuck in my head
And I did nothing about it as I lay in my bed
It was about the golden days in Chicago ,
When we lived in that small apartment
And we were so happy.

I was tossing and turning
Trying to get it out of my mind
And all of those words I came up with, I soon left behind
I chose not to write about those wonderful days
That I romanticize, just a little
You have to romanticize everything
Just a little
That’s how you go on living

Someday I’ll go mad because I won’t remember
How cold it was when we moved in on September
How much joy I got from the fire escape
As it looked upon the downtown, so far away
You could hardly catch a glimpse
But with my cigarette lit
I was in heaven.

I was in pure heaven.