When the winter is over, –
a spring will come, and maybe
summer at once.
You’ll ask me: “Will it always be like that?”
and I’ll answer: “No, there is nothing eternal in the Creation.
Everything once comes to an end, –
sooner or later. ”
“Fool, don’t be a smart ass as always”, – you’ll say, –
“I’m talking about spring, and you’re already buried the summer!”
air is entering the body with every inhalation
air is coming out with every exhalation
yet you’re no longer the same before that inhalation
you’re no longer the same before that inspiration
so does she or he
they are also no longer the same as before
and now –
to the next breath-in-and-exhale
and so on an so forth
till the end of the days
breathe in and out
and yet, you can’t stop for a moment
to take a breath
I’ll become completely hollow inside
and only naked echo
will tease my ego and that other
that messing up my life
and then I’ll have some tea
or wine to refill that
but with the right stuff
three hours was not enough
to save the silence
inside cold concrete
to cling to the wall
to pour out sand into the sea
to clench conscience in one’s fist
to hide one’s temple behind a vein
salt is itching in the skin of a palm
the lines of life have gone astray
if you did not find the master
you won’t find any slaves
life from troubles to turmoil
is measured by rusty scales
why do we need minutes
if we don’t keep the count of time
An imbalance of adrenaline and melatonin.
Circling in pairs
In the North-West direction.
She wanted a crown of pearls,
but he gave her a pot of geraniums.
They lived, yet not long enough,
probably because they didn’t post enough cat pics.
They were drawing the air, but it turned into
a raging fire, and everything around was burning
while the trees were crying aloud.
It’s hot in the city during the second half
of this summer. Asphalt is melting in tired muscles,
And you can hear the mourning of the mute alarm.
While he was looking for Nirvana in the nerves of the subway,
She found her peace in the metaphor of Hexogen.