fake relity, falseness, literature, Literature, london, love, marriage, passion, Poem, poetry, religion

The Verge

If I could understand why my mind sways
why it is not satisfied with surface existence
creating mystery and mischief
illegalities
why it is not real in spiritual emptiness
why it needs danger and complications
adventures on the London bridge
the night
the kiss
on the verge of the Tamise

why
can’t it concentrate deeply
on cooking in the domestic cauldron
why my mind
flies
to your lips

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climate change, Dark moods, extinction, fake relity, Literature, love, Poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized

As You slip into the climate change hole again

I am as empty as you

no talent for reality

money, mortgage, plans

mortgage sounds like morgue to me

it’s the fear of death which killed us

our spirit

but this emptiness loves you

it cares about you

no need to worry then

before it was

a grey-hate black madness

this emptiness is alive now somehow

and your voice is everything

let’s believe in it

you are the first person

who was able to

achieve anything in it

and even when I’m angry

it doesn’t mean a thing

love or climate change

love

please come back from the extinction

please

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catholic church, christmas, economics, fake relity, falseness, hypocrisy, KGB, lenin, leninism, marriage, marx, Poem, poetry, politics, religion, Satire

Christmas Borsch

At the Christmas table my father in law

quotes Marx and says that Lenin was a righteous fellow

I think he says it for me to hear it

but I don’t know

At the Christmas table my mother in law

never talks about politics

and is very devoted to catholic faith

but turns the blind ear to everything

as long as it pays

I sit at this Christmas table

eating their borsch

and feeling quite stupid and dumb

while thinking about my atheist aunt

who was rotting in communist prison

for rejecting the pravda’s of Lenin and Marx

My father in law

is sitting next to me and I don’t know why on my right

again quoting Engels and Marx

and I am eating this salty borsch

thinking about my grandpa’s running away from the Soviet’s hands

I want to get up

but my mother in law

pours into my plate just a little more

of her

sour Christmas borsch.

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