The Devil

There was Satan behind our backs

Walking with us on the London Bridge

I didn’t know

but you probably were aware of it

judging by the level of your paranoia

For me, just slightly off, romantic darkly

Everything was perfect.

Now the love is gone,

The war is on, which was then just hanging in our verses –

I would like to have a pink house with a white porcelain in it,

You could go in,

You could go out,

no pressure,

The problem is, I don’t have a palace,

no single room of independence –

I guess, that’s fate,

What can I do

Some people loose in checkers.

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A letter of resignation

I have no soul

No ounce of it in me

I follow the track

Of my destiny

The god or the male

Or the military

Cause it’s them, who lead the world for me

The path is clear

All I need is to submit

I have no soul

It was denied for me.

Abaddon

I can’t stand being without you, today

When the order of Satan is encircling you

To push you away

The blood ritual

Which makes me faint

Why the darkness is pressing you down

It sends needles down my spine

The nature doesn’t have to be made for death

Cristal waters

Green rivers

Little huts

Instead – bloodshed is coming from behind the border 

Escape

THE AXIETY

No friends or rather

Friends-enemies

And I am myself

a friend-enemy

To myself and them

Could we escape?

Hide in the forest of Hamstead Heat

He doesn’t  understand

Enough of poetry, I say

Poetry is for the cowards or those who cannot speak

Those strong personas

those narcissists

Are putting their heavy shoes on me

I hate them

I would like to go but I can’t

Cause I am seized by anxiety 

like under the Russian invasion

It seizes me 

What is a soul and what about it

It pulls me into a murky pond. No!

Just stay still and wait

How can we stop the tornado of hate?

Let’s make a hedge

A nice hedge sparkled with magic,

a hedge nobody can’t kick

neither be a Russian or an Ukrainian

A beautiful hedge 

With no crossings

A labyrinth for the mind

Take of  your heavy shoes

Back off to your polygon

You bastard

It’s a sanctuary

I hate you 

I do I do I do

RITE OF PASSAGE

There was a suicide planned for both of us but wasn’t executed

You are mental

Yes, you are

she said

You are just insane

Fidel Castro

Drag queen rebels

Transatlantic, trans-human

No, I am not a Vatican spy

And I’m sick of the insults

She added, typically upset

There is a deep hole

after your departure

Your velvety voice

was promising peace

You disappointed me

with your hostility

But now I am sitting here

In the district block

post-revolution

and not in Britain

Where I fell straight into the war
into the epicentre of the revolution
unknowingly

And I am bored

And I feel blind

Walking through the bushes
of lilies of the valley
without blinking

and everything seems meaningless in this matrix of things

And there is a new fire
whatever I touch

And people eating each other like animals

It’s the time of apocalyptic fury
on both sides

So let’s hide

Maybe forever

Let’s wait for the storm to end

And meet on the other side

When the slaughter is over

If ever

Tunnel

I started thinking that ‘love’ is evil

vengeful

it’s hate

it’s murderous

so I’ll forget this whole business

and go

to meet

Karakoram mountains instead

or something like that

for a while

before I get back to dreadful London

to deal with all this deathly business

of

flowers

LOVEWAR

All this darkness
is gone
can’t believe there is light
and everything is illuminated now in London

not dark alleys
the passions of mystery

normal day
Highbury fields
quiet

can’t believe what was happening in those places at nights

parallel life

secret incognito

undercover

agents of opposite forces

kissed and clashed

nobody knows about it
hash

the result of the love-war is unclear

it is possible that still there is a stronghold

with forces gathering and ready from both fierce directions

and that the battle is finished but war is raging on

with double force

Just a normal Monday, as usual

While my hubby is building his AI Machine

in his green headquarters

downstairs

and the war is raging from left and right and the underground

I’m not really sure what to do with myself

It’s shiny-raining

and the lightness of nothingness

bothers me slightly

I am descending into a dark adventure

in my mind

conquering the evil turtle

in the cinema

while the horse is drowning

in the mud

the life is over, Ahriman

This is a war, honey – what a shame.

It was a dream about us being those special sandpit friends

in a nice love-unity

and joy

of building something

together

without hitting each other with a spade on the head

and scheming to destroy your underground tunnels

when everything seemed to go great

conspiring with the district gang

how to win over me

I had a dream of us being different then them

But those things are impossible

how could I forget that you are the only child

all this mistrust

and

ego trips

I retreat

to the very end of the park

to talk with the sunshine instead

and play with pebbles and dirt

but then

the anger at your murderous betrayal

hits me

so

I

watch you and your gang

delaying my revenge

don’t you think I forgot

about hate

not yet

TOUGH

But you mine, I think so, tak…

if we were in a paradise…

love and art

but there is a war on

soldier

you better move on

love

you better move on!

kiss and breath

flowers and guns

miss you too much

too much

amazing

this in love feeling is

too much

he said

and she smiled

You conquered

she said

climbing on him

on the bench

in the central park.