Ознакомьтесь с нашей политикой обработки персональных данных
12:30 

sibyl

udemia
гной душевных ран надменно выставлять на диво черни простодушной (с)
мы знакомы через одно рукопожатие с двух разных сторон, один раз виделись ирл примерно две минуты и читаем друг друга здесь, и это не такое уж близкое общение по шкале какого-нибудь не заинтересованного в сексе последователя кинси
но S is for Sibyl пишет ужасно крутые стихи и я тоже хочу

we were both born in spring
which means our parents made love in summer
it was probably hot and sticky and
much more heterosexual than i can afford,
being a rebel teen.

i am envious
because i only have one quoted metaphor in my head about envy and it is the most overused one.

i remember
when i first saw you and thought about how much one gets when being first seen.
that vivid,
mimical,
gestural,
three-dimensional you became.
all the boschian ladies on my shirt screamed in unison.
i could never pronounce my nickname.

and israel is beautiful this time o' the year.
all the purple flowers,
crimson flowers,
pink flowers,
white flowers,
the names of which you never know.
all the ochre roads turning
before your eyes
before the wheels of your car do.
quietly driving under "jerusalem" sign and forth
not to wake lil' sister sleeping in the backseat.
all the evergreens, moving with the wind,
those spiky ones
and the ones with leaves
and the sea, which is also an evergreen of some kind.
all the bazaars where colours can not be described.

once we wandered through spices and carpets and bought four pairs of camel skin sandals for the price of one.
bargaining was fun.
at some point we had my other sister to promise the shop keeper she would become his girlfriend in the nearest future.
she did not.
but what if something sad happens?
my mom has my dad,
my lil' sister, sleeping in the backseat, has attention of all the boys in her class,
my other sister has nameless camel skin sandal maker from jerusalem,
and i have no one.
i can afford no one,
being a rebel teen.

i remember
when i was reading your poetry and thinking
that i have a year to become that witty,
sharp,
original,
so-much-more-than-three-dimensional.
now, a year later,
i still want to become what you were a year ago.

this level of appreciation
causes the rebel teen in me to vomit.
you have appreciation for vomit but here it just does not fit.
or does it?

you would make such a person to meet.

@темы: тексты, стихи, налей себе ещё немного экстраверсии

URL
Комментарии
2015-05-13 в 04:20 

S is for Sibyl
"Мне всё кажется, что на мне штаны скверные, и что я пишу не так, как надо, и что даю больным не те порошки. Это психоз, должно быть." А. П. Чехов
We are the savage innocents
throwing around ten-dollar words
torn between truces & dissents
and barking rhymes into herds;

and I am thanking you, too late. I'll
spit it with bile, white wine & stutter
on the way to my strawberry-creamy isle
until I meet you (we'll look at stars from a gutter.)

   

комизм тотальности мелочей

главная