With ashes and smoke,
With spirits and tea, like a flood.
You know, you can`t be removed.
You`re rotting in me, spilling poison.
I spit it, as bitter as sooth.
I try to use pain for my poems.
You know, I fell ill with you.
I picked you up as the bug.
I fell ill with you and endure
Doubts, impulses, fights.
You know, I am killed with you.
I am all black, full of salt.
Just one your look makes me drool,
Be abrupt, rebellious, hot.
You know, I am tortured with you,
Tormented, pulled out and crumpled.
You hypnotize and bewitch.
You`re silent. I am crucified.
You drink me like sparkling wine.
I`m cast in pearls. I am spawned...
You are so great, you are smart.
I breathe for your sake, I adore you.
2017
Bitterness
Look into me like into abyss.
Take off me all my masks.
That, what used to be proud matter
I washed away into dust.
I need you. I need you badly!
It`s not the matter of doubt.
You know, what I feel is painful.
I suffocate with my love.
The rainy evening is dusky.
The sky frowns with wadding.
Something in my chest is sinking.
Something in my throat feels rending.
There are no you. There`s no hope.
I`m tired to cry in the night.
You are so unreal for me.
But I happen for you time to time.
"Time to time" sounds like scherzo.
My pain moans in despair.
Unasked but so loud questions
Are drown in the aphonic air.
Fingers mammock the glass.
The red turns into blue.
I need you. I need you so much.
You know, I fell ill with you.
2017
Stop
As though the train shudders with "Stop",
Your shoulders move suddenly back.
Your gaze roams somewhere outdoors.
The street is empty. It hails.
The forest frowns. The moldy grass.
It`s cold outside. The animals hide.
The tired wind slumbers, lying snug in web glass.
That very wind, that played with your light.
I have promised to leave you just never more.
But I`m leaving you every second, each hour.
The light in the windows smoothly dies down.
Brokenly the light in the windows dies down.
The ice covers the flower.
2017
O n the field of battle
We are on the field of battle.
The suspension points drain through gaze.
Each point is a shooting.
Each point is fire.
I scream.
I put the point, marking the end. And again
I put point once more and once more...
And in points I sink...
My pulse beats for you.
My heart keeps the fire.
The blood in my flesh is boiling, spicy like clove.
You are inside of me. You are my burning desire.
Though I will never admit
That this feeling is Love.
And then I am bursting,
Like a bomb, thrown into old castles.
Locking the doors, I`ll finish the eternal game.
I feast my defeat.
And among scarlet poppies,
I`m oozing,
All soaked with the lustful champagne.
2017
The Colo u rs
The flame of my love flows through my veins.
All over the floor I spilled all my chess.
That, what seemed black, a film develops to white.
That, what seemed white, you turn into black.
The morning is burnt with the red colours.
The black of the spades prickles my lungs.
The puppy-dog feet have spattered the diamonds.
I have discarded the ace of hearts.
The flame in my veins is so eternal.
The long sea voyage is promised to ships.
If you only knew what this all is made of!
You`d better not. You aren`t ready for this.
The pain soaks through my strain tensioned nerves.
The blue blood is poorer than the bright-red.
I am no person, who likes to deceive.
But I`ll look joyful, though I`m sad.
All our smiles will take winter frost.
Not to think. Not to know. And not to admit.
This feeling is blowing my brain out like a shot.
We`ve been running away from each other.
And... mixed.
2017
The Wormwood
Don't think of me in the past tense.
I will not leave; I will not pass away.
I`ll take your soul into my cage.
Inside of your heart I`ll find my place.
As if wormwood I`ll sprout among the seedlings.
They are effete; I am the hardened weed.
Whatever happens, it just does not matter.
You burned me hundred times, but did not succeed.
Don't think of me in the past tense,
I am your blood. I am the impulse of your will.
Forgive me. Do not feel offended.
Once you`ll discover pain I have concealed.
2017
The First Snow
There will be no "we" by the winter.
Crazy blood will be appeased.
The corpse of our love will be cut by a locomotive.
So many times, I repeated that this feeling is no love,
So many times, I tried to escape for the sake of some quite.
So many years it has been lasting, it burnt.
My eyes were as heavy as lead with the alcohol tears.
Disinfection of wounds. Doors are bolted from the inside.
Chloroform to forget. And some rage to release.
Not to be reached, I choose to be drowned.
Through the thickness of water, I am petted by the Moon blade.
The face of the Moon doesn't heat. That is no love.
... However, what does not exist alas cannot fade...
2017
The C old Summer
I am grateful to you for this cold summer,
For my chilly hands, dead love, and despite.
Thank you. I am swamped over with the snow,
I`m warped with the sorrow, and I`m fed up with ice.
I am grateful to you for this freedom of choice.
The northern pole. I can choose either direction.
Thank you for free chance to be burnt with passion,
As this lustful night I`ll be losing my voice.
2017
The Hidden Secret
I know one hidden secret:
You have bound somewhere yourself.
Free yourself. You`ll find out the treatment.
Everything that you loved - you`ll forget.
2017
The Conclusion
We are two nobodies, we`ve become long ago.
The lack of affection, of care. The lack of attention.
You are neither a friend nor a foe.
I say - you are just nobody, a kind of reflection.
You are like a blank cartridge of the poke gun.
A shot to a wall. A kiss to the cold muzzle.
The doors are open.
> I`m catching the draughts.
What for do I do it? I`m puzzled.
We are two veins; blue blood runs through us.
Two seats in the audience hall opposite one`s illusions.
When the autumn is gone, the snow will cover our love.
Or it`s better to say "neverlove" as I`ve made the conclusion.
2017
Not a word
The ears - the noise.
The eyes - the tears.
The mouth - the kiss.
The heart - the hurt.
Do you think I hit the brakes?
But I wear nothing under my skirt.
The demon told - "no lingerie".
The thunder beat against the roof.
The ears - the noise. Well, eye to eye.
Who of us was kept aloof?
How did this one forget?
How did the deep wound mend?
Do you think I hit the brakes?
I rip off my cross again!
The heart of ashes. The grave of words.
Your head inclines to me in a bow.
And your forehead beats on stone.
And so bloody is the snow.
My posture now is so straight.
Do you remember me in woe?
I see, you hope, I want to speak.
No. I `ll never breathe a word.
2017
I need a friend to understand
I need a friend to understand,