Sentimental scraps of paper

Scattered around our feet,

Flooding in poodles of deceit.

Desires are indeed a treat

For those who yearn for a piece

Of somebodie’s love,

and a menace

For the ones who fear the beat of their heart

My bit

Is always

in the middle

of all that.


Through time

Within the Time’s still unbroken bricks,

A feather is falling down slowly,

Carrying a crawling sound of the wind blowing.

Levitating feather, undoubtedly light

Is picked up by your gracious fingers.

Admiring yourself in the mirror,

You start to dance to the ticking of the old clock.

The white fluffiness touches you, it tingles.

Bizarre feelings awakening slowly.

You feel the time unlock the tickling clock.

The hours increase the pace, the space distortion

Brings you to commotion.

The feather is spear, now scratching your skin,

Piercing reality.

Liquid memories

Do you remember…

Remember the nights you stood awake,

The flights you did not take and remained by my side.

Do you remember seeing my wings folding?

You tried pushing to unfold them back.

You thought my happiness was your responsibility.

Do you remember when we met, you were all red,

I were all in my own shades of numbness.

Following my flow, you felt caught.

Did not expect to find a hollow shell.

For years it has been emptied and filled with dirt.

You leapt in fast and left your print, you fought,

So I remember…

The memories of you I still retain.

A guardian of thoughts keeps telling me

He can’t hold on its integrity,

For they are like a watercolor painted messy canvas,

Rain pouring through and on.

Water’s dragging all the life full colorshapes

Into the river, my river, of tears and sweat

I remember…

You become my teacher, no intention,

It was your ego projecting your imagination,

Hopes and dreams on everyone you could catch.

But who would listen?

Do you remember it was me? I were to match

Your own possibilities, your capabilities.

I became the cavity you poured your thoughts in.

I did the same, you did learn nothing.

I was not teaching, I groped in the darkness,

Took whatever came and threw it into your shape:

My shame,

My hopes,

My parasites,

I blame

Not you.

Poetry workshop

Hey guys! This will be my first post that is not a poem though it is about poetry.

After several weeks of no purpose in my life whatsoever, my personal life miseries and a lot of disconfort caused by kidney stones, I decided to create my first blog. Not bad, you are lucky I’m not writign about the journey my kidney boulder (yes, that is how it felt) made through my body. I can only say it felt like I had a son or two, and now can’t stop giving birth to new ideas. Well, this is not about my life. As the title says, it is about a workshop, poetry workshop. Who throws it? Coursera, of course. If you don’t know what Coursera is, this is the time to pay the site a visit. Coursera provides best free courses almost about anything you can come to think about. Today I thought about how I missed learnign something from there and recalled there was a course about English writing (if you read my “What is about me” section, you will know I am Russian and English is not my native language, not even the second as I live in Spain. If this is the only thing you wanted to know about me, well, don’t go there… go there…go there). Instead of this one I actually found the one could be even more interesting. It’s called Sharpened Visions: A Poetry Workshop.  I’ll leave the link here if you are interested. 


It looks very interesting! 

Now it’s time to nap.

Love for everyone.