The Waste Poems
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– How you digress!
I guess
better take off my onerous dress.
Keep calm… be sweet,
kiss, kiss my clit,
not so quick,
gently lick
the slit…»
– Excuse me, miss,
Could you tell what time it is?
Morituro 02.07.2024
Hello, morning of a new day!
T.
Vanity of vanities, said Ecclesiastes,
vanity of vanities, – all is vanity!
Without her my world dies.
Against one's will I open my eyes.
I see clock… ceiling… closet.....
The hand reaches for the Net,
Me very scary, but she wants to look.
The fingers themselves find Facebook
"She was an hour ago" – I can live.
The flower of tranquility has a chance to thrive.
Darkness… I hear the song by electronic cock.
There is ceiling again, a clock…
The Demons of Vanity chasing the night away.
Without her I meet a new day.
I wash, don't shave,
(Any man fit for the grave)
Brushing my teeth, not wiping my face.
I hankerin to smoke, leaving the bathroom in apace.
Life's a repetition of repetitions again and again.
Thousand or ten what’s the difference then?
My single friend follow me. The barking is spewing.
A couple of buttons. Coffee is brewing.
Smoking. Drinking. Forgetting my phone for a while.
I prevent the dog from barking with a scratching and give him a smile.
(I don't have a juicy bone)
The window: the door creaks. The factory hums.
A leaf is yellowing. Autumn comes.
Somewhere in the distance train screams.
The light fog is clearing and so are my dreams.
More coffee. Another cigarette. Life is annoy.
Only the agony of summer is a joy.
A harness. A leash. Work wear.
Soon we shall go for a walk anywhere.
Hello, morning of a new day!
"Let us go then, Buddy" – I say
Здравствуй, утро нового дня!
Т.
Суета сует, говорит Экклезиаст,
суета сует, – все суета!
Без нее мой мир умирает.
Против воли я открываю глаза.
Я вижу часы… потолок… шкаф.....
Рука тянется в Сеть,
Мне очень страшно, но она хочет посмотреть.
Пальцы сами находят Facebook:
"Она была час назад" – я могу жить.
У цветка спокойствия есть шанс расцвести.
Темнота… Я слышу песню электронного петуха.
Снова потолок и часы…
Демоны суеты гонят ночь прочь.
Без нее я встречаю день.
Я моюсь, не бреюсь,
(Любой мужчина сгодится для могилы)
Чищу зубы, не вытираю лицо.
Я хочу курить, выхожу из ванной в спешке.
Жизнь – это повторение повторений снова и снова.
Тысяча или десять – какая разница?
Мой единственный друг следует за мной. Лай извергается.
Пара кнопок. Кофе варится.
Курю. Пью кофе. Забываю о телефоне на время.
Я не даю собаке лаять, почесывая её и даря ей улыбку.
(У меня нет сочной косточки)
Окно: дверь скрипит. Завод гудит.
Лист желтеет. Наступает осень.
Где-то вдалеке кричит поезд.
Легкий туман рассеивается, как и мои мечты.
Еще кофе. Еще одна сигарета. Жизнь раздражает.
Только агония лета приносит радость.
Шлейка. Поводок. Рабочая одежда.
Скоро мы пойдём куда-нибудь прогуляемся.
Здравствуй, утро нового дня!
"Тогда пойдем, Дружище", – говорю я.
Morituro 03.07.2024
Chorus
F.N.
Words are the only things that last forever;
they are more durable than the eternal hills.
W.Hazlitt
Sooth to say, I want to say true.
Looking at all of you,
It seemed as if it were
You, but I made a mistake. In realy I saw her unaware.
Years before we met I already only saw her,
One who made my pulse stir.
I must to say true because I've made wrongs.
My lyrics, words and songs
Are hers.
The Deity (or his vice?) confers.
But I must to "sing it again."
It's not right when
Words to hang in flat-out lie
And they're have to fly in the sky.
Language controls our
Thinking. Gives us sight, Illness or power.
Through the Word
We see God.
I seek him again
And again.
Just words are for now, but in them the verse sounds,
And furthermore the poetry or love’s song have no bounds.
In poetic lines the Muse and the speaker are visible.
(Else by the way words feeds Sybil).
Name at least the chorus, at least the refrain,
All my words are about F.N.,
That were, are and will be!
Charming, fair, bright and witty is she.
People imbue the words with divinity
Or unique obscenity.
So, so, farewell! I more need not say
Yes… my words will be forgotten or not be read nay .
It's no big deal. I shall take it with humility.
Because through the striving of words for infinity,
We shall remain with her in eternity!
Somehow we were destined to be.
The love I dedicate to You… is without
end… What I have done is yours, what I
have to do is yours, beeng part in all I
have, devoted yours… Meantime, as it is,