WHATS IN THE NAMES

To name the meadow – green

and the green name – the meadow

name yourself a Blaze

and die after season

To call you...

or don’t call at all

it`s just another word

which don’t express a whole

I will say – desire

and you answer – drinking

fulfilment indulging a fire

which burns inessential thinking

I will say – hot

and you answer – ice

we are no more than a dots

- pupil of Gods eye 

SUNDAY MARKET

SUNDAY MARKET

The sunny day

The coldy shine

The dreams for pay

At Sunday market

Forgotten things

From out of time

A fragile thrills

At Sunday market

I  never thought

That I can find

My childhood world

At Sunday market

ZEN

Zen

–  word on the paper

Bird 

− It`s so high  !

NONCOMFORMIZM

NONCOMFORMIZM

Tell me how much should I pay

to be myself  ?

Tell me what the price ?

I don’t wanna to be nice

I am ok

I don’t wanna be nice

And you order "cut your hair"

I will never say yes sir

There are two ways, aren't there ?

To be gentle, to be man !

Life is brutal I had learned

It is a game

Yes i know it and that`s why

I`ll be always by my side

I am ok

I`ll be always on my side

And you order – be polite

But I`d rather gonna fight

That`s my story, and my life

Don’t be sorry when I die

ONE DAY

ONE DAY

One day when my dreams come true

I will pick up the phone and I call to you

-          Life is good

Now I’m working in the factory

With the working class unity

Writing sadness history

Of exploitation and enmity

Among million I am one

But my dreams are flourishing high

Happiness is not so far

I can touch it if I try

One day when my dreams come true

I will pick up the phone and I call to you

-          Life is good

There are always in my memory

Regulations of society

To rise one person's glory

Millions lose their dignity

Among million I am one

But my dreams are flourishing high

Happiness is not so far

I can touch it if I try

One day when my dreams come true

I will pick up the phone and I call to you

-          Life is good

THE WHIFF

THE WHIFF

I’m gliding

on the wings of the whiff

sweet encounters

of the mystery land

had entrusted me

the test

and the meaning

of this very evening

This is a time

of hidden lakes

carried by the mellow dusk

Ducks climbing

on the moon beams

had left their quack

behind

Trees in deep meditation

whisper everlasting

mantra of wind

My head lost in high grasses

wonder the paths of ants

lost for good

in the sense of green

Your palm on my shoulder

has told me

about our future memories

about trust

of the smooth water

caring the stars, the trees

and our bowing faces

in the black bowl

of the lake

This is what the whiff

has entrusted to me

B-hall 28^th September

my face pressing the bars

The prisoner

THE PRISONER

I am the hostage of memories

I am the captive of love

I am the servant of politeness

I am the prisoner of habits

I am the addict of passion

I am the valet of semblances

I am the sex puppet

And a dog of desire

I am the slave of your eyes

I am the master of escape

Heroin

HEROIN

sooth me

with your mellow wings

show me different 

things

wrap me

with your soft hair

numb me

with your secret spell

lead me

with your velvet voice

to the place with no pain

make me sleep

make me sleep

make me sleep

again