our rags of light…

Puzzling and humbling:

living them through,

these stolen moments of peace,

of sacred shared-ness

amongst the daily roam.

These tiny emeralds of easiness,

of unexpected fun

of being

simply me

or

simply you.

Cheerful recognition

of those

rags of light

smiling back in the eyes of the other.

 

 

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Простите (Forgive me)

English version follows bellow 

 

Простите, что я такая…

Странная? –

Пожалуй.

 

Знаю, со мной трудно:

Я живу по небу известному календарю и кодексу.

Говорю – когда не нужно;

Молчу – когда следовало бы говорить;

Глуха – когда надо слышать

И слышу несуществующее.

Влюблена в образы,

ушедшие или просто выдуманные.

Моя голова – большая свалка,

И я мешаю сплетни с экзистенциализмом.

Наверное, предаю и первое, и второе…

 

Нет черного и белого,

И потому,

наверное,

я дальтоник, когда речь идёт о людях.

Я люблю и ненавижу как-то ненормально…

Глубоко? –

Очень-очень.

Иррационально.

 

Простите…

Я бы много отдала,

чтобы

просто быть не помешанной.

Почти столько же,

Сколько отдам, за то

Чтобы помешанной остаться.

 

Просто знайте.

Просто или сложно,

Крича или без слов,

Не вовремя уходя и возвращаясь,

Я так люблю вас!..

2008

 

Forgive me for what I am…

Creepy? – 

I guess…

I know, it is not easy with me:

For I live according to God knows what calendar and code.

I speak when one shouldn’t,

I am silent, when one should speak;

I am deaf, when one must hear

And I hear the non-existent. 

I am in love with images

That passed or never existed. 

My head is a huge landfill,

And so I mix gossips and existentialism,

Betraying them both, perhaps…

There is no black, nor white.

That might be the reason, 

Why I am so colour-blind about people. 

I love and hate somehow out of norm…

Deeply? –

So deeply!

And irrationally.

I am so sorry. 

I would give much

for not being that lunatic. 

Almost as much,

As I would give 

For the right to stay as mad, as now. 

You just should know – 

In easy or complex way,

Shouting or keeping quiet,

Leaving or coming back so untimely,

I still love you all so much!

Cognitive hunger attack

Gruesome

grinding,

greed of a

feverish! –

brain:

feed it, feed

again and again!

 

Starved, thus aggressive.

Insatiable hunger:

bitter sweet torture.

I am posessed,

Itching for wonder,

a puzzle,

a verve.

 

Tireless urge:

give me a piece to think!

Anything, any thing!

Addict, I burst,

Shaking, unnerved

In my infuriating

cognitive thirst.

 

 

 

 

Hangover

… and this crippling awareness emerges,

and the oyster, devoid of her shell,

grips for pieces of it in an urge

to re-cover herself. All meant well,

yet the pieces lie fallen apart.

.

Every breath feels so dizzy inside.

Pumping blood open-air, her heart,

unprotected for any more surges,

gapes for silence, and comfort, and light.

Between the lines

Lost so deep between the lines,

Far too smart for implications,

For unwise insinuations

Far too earnest, far too fine.

 

Lines with lead still feel so light,

Following your shapes. No touching.

Modest, decent. Am I blushing? –

When the lines collide…

If I can trust

I do can push you off the way.

You know not what I am:

I can be strong, I break the walls

if needed

with my head and will,

I could eat nails and broken glass.

I can command.

Eye-lashes. Leather lashes.

I scare you off,

Don´t touch me,

Don´t come closer! Run away! I´m hazardous! Keep out!

 

Yet if you stay and wait,

Not driven out by the storm of furious angst inside me,

If you keep quiet, till the blizzard´s over.

The roaring sea subsides,

The shore is calming,

I´m not afraid of you,

You can come in.

Look! I can show you what I have:

Those little joyful shiny things,

The sparkles of the morning sun,

So irresistible and calling

Across the meek and peaceful water.

 

If I can trust,

Oh! What a blissful pleasure to be simply me,

To sail away, so uncorrupt and free,

To be and to belong,

To be so wisely stupid.

If only I could learn to trust…

Kraken

Below the thunders of the peaceless mind,

Deep in the abyss, speechless and devoid of light,

Away from reason, undisturbed by thought,

There sleeps the Kraken of my troubled heart.

 

Unnumbered hordes of thoughts, so fair and neat

Pass by its silent numbness, shadowlike.

The faintest glimpse of Common Sense collides

Upon its deafening quietness and rhythm.

 

There have they lain and there shall they remain:

The never spoken truths between the lines,

Ink blotches of Irrelevance in my white lies.

Crushed over the threshold of my beautiful mind.