Another Day Poetry: Beaty Fresh (special)

Well hello geezers! A new poetry slice but before a tiny prologue.

Recently I've stumbled upon the cutest musical morsel by my old comrade from uni, Demian Feriy, and this is what has inspired and fertilized my mind to create this poetry. Don't be shy and check out his other tracks on SoundCloud , enjoy the spring and eat a lot of oranges. Here we go:

Beaty Fresh

springy springs

and blooming strings

and all the things

I want to say,

stuck in a tray

since yesterday

right on my way

oh holy clowns,

my morning gown

and golden crown

I'm falling down

while feeding crows,

and crowds and crowds

upon my shroud

beating out bows

for spring to come,

a little drum,

cheers with a rum

and coke and buns

all on the board,

and clowns, and mort,

and zombie horde,

I can afford

myself a feast,

without priests

but our beasts

shall come from East

to live the spring,

and I will sing

and you will swing

around the ring

ding ding ding ding

Another Day Poetry: Budapest

Budapest

For a moment forget where I am,

And there is no difference at all.

No adventures and joy with myself,

If I'm bored then it’s only my fault.

One, I'm unfocused,

Two, I'm still writing,

But my feet are too hurt,

They’re too sore to keep fighting.

Are we getting old?

Is it happening now? No?

Then why I'm so tired, why I'm feeling so down?

Why’s my constant ‘upsetness’ overwhelming it all?

No matter where or what’s going on.

These days are too fast,

Too little kebabs,

But time is a train between future and past.

Sightseeing, and wander, and maybe that mall,

With my slow digestion there is no time at all.

My new complains and old habits supplies,

You, my dear, only the one doomed to try,

Even the last day my whining keeps going

What can I say? Well, I could say sorry.

You. Right in front of me,

I. Am crawling to bed,

It’s our holiday baby –

With disappointment you said.

(This time it's personal)

Another day poetry: Someone's poem

Inspired by John Cooper Clarke

Dedicated to John Cooper Clarke

Someone’s poem

Someone’s shitty kids

Someone’s smelly dishes

Someone’s painful knees

Someone’s hopeless wishes

Someone’s bitter greed

Someone’s lack of air

Someone’s lost in Leeds

Someone’s brand new hair

Someone’s speedy wheels

Someone’s childhood trauma

Someone’s speedy pills

Someone’s life-time drama

Someone’s chicken ribs

Someone’s steps on craters

Someone’s false beliefs

Someone’s fake creators

Someone’s hateful speech

Someone’s x-ray glances

Someone’s dad is rich

Someone’s missed his chances

Someone’s dog is dead

Someone’s got a new one

Someone’s dirty bed

Someone’s filled with no one

Someone’s debit cards

Someone’s way of living

Someone’s friend is tard

Someone’s stares at ceiling

Someone’s pride to be

Someone’s patronising

Someone’s wish to be kree

Someone’s just realised it

Someone’s obsessions in mud

Someone’s colossal agreement

Someone’s pretending good

Someone can’t rhyme agreement

Someone’s feelings so high

Someone’s are kept in boxes

Someone’s trying to hide

Someone’s disgusting poxes

Someone’s dressed like a nurse

Someone’s shameful past and culture

Someone’s knowledge that worse is

Someone’s disgraceful future

Someone’s joy to hurt

Someone’s silly jumper

Someone’s in a court

Someone’s lousy temper

Someone’s greatest love

Someone’s fresh and jokey

Someone’s hardest path

Someone’s into junkies

Someone’s pretty wife

Someone’s holding the knife

Someone’s cheeky darling

Someone’s making him starving

Someone’s blindest choice

Someone’s ugly voice

Someone’s dearest noise

Someone’s not into boys

Someone’s habit to bow

Someone’s free to go

Someone’s tired to eat

Someone’s skills at it

Someone’s miserable now

Someone’s happy law

Someone’s dislike to bend

Someone’s conclusion to end

And then turn, disappear

In a black-black wall

And the next day pretend

That you never heard it before…

And

Been here,

And

Liked it,

And

Posted it,

And

Asked for more!

Another Day Poetry: Nowhere City

Nowhere City

I cannot live in this city any more, no.

Nothing is holding, nothing is pulling back at all,

Nothing is wishing me to stay a day,

But I keep looking for what to say.

The poisoned city with no cure,

Where everyone’s too adult, too mature,

The city with a hope for light,

But every citizen is blind.

They’re barging with their illnesses and pains,

And they don’t care if they don’t make a sense.

Heroic city with an ice-cold heart,

That’s falling into pieces with no chance to start,

A savage creature, last one of its type,

It’s giving up, it’s withering without fight.

And hateful empathy is growing very fast,

Or it’s just an offended child from the past?

Demanding an apology from everyone,

Who’s from the city or another town.

The city has corrupted guts and minds,

 And offered nothing in reply,

The city of contrasts, someone said,

But speaking true it means from worst to simply bad.

A word ‘majo’r’ means rich and wealthy,

(They don’t like keeping words too healthy),

But at the same time words mean everything for them,

Pronounce it loud and clearly all they can.

And then ignoring everything that breathes,

Is there still someone who doesn't want to leave?

To run away, escape, be rescued by the Red Cross army,

And let it burn in blue-blue flame, but now, without me.

The people are cursed by ‘indifference spell’,

And I cannot feel the way I felt,

Perhaps I’ll long one day for that,

That city and its people in their silly hats,

Perhaps I will forget it all,

The long hard way from hole to hole.

The Friday Poetry at Thursday. "To hobo"

Two days ago, in front of my window has died a homeless person. I have watched him for a long time. Slept on the ground, on cardboard. Even at the end of the summer, when it began to get cold I thought how he would go on like this, and then he has died. And here's something I wrote. (Originally I wrote it in Russian, so the English version may seem painfully awkward, but I firmly believe that this is forgivable in poetry.

Russian version below )

I just want you to live well

And were a good person, no woe

That thou shouldest be stronger and smarter than was

And didn’t have to take cover with snow,

How many losses and how many roads

So helplessly you're wandering heaved 

But that someone would write a few lines to you

You would never have believed,

Rotted chair and a pair of plastic bags

All the wealth that you've managed to find

Instead of a soft bed and balloons

To solemnly, proudly say goodbye.

Aloof, offended, you slept and smoked

On your aching bones

But maybe, sometime, you have lived and loved

Among seemed, as you thought of ‘yours’,

Turned out, broke down perhaps you could not

Did not find the right words and accents

To hell are you damned, God said to you

And lost in the crucial moments,

I do not want to pity, this feeling is bad

Meaningless and speechless

I would like at least now

You have finally found, a plenty of intimate rest.

" Бомжу "

Хочется просто чтоб ты жил хорошо
И был хорошим человеком
Чтобы ты был сильнее и умнее был
И не спал укрываясь снегом ,
Сколько потерь и сколько дорог
Так беспомощно ты бродил
Но что кто - то напишет пару строчек тебе
Ты бы никогда не поверил ,
Прогнившее кресло и пару кульков
Все богатства что смог ты найти
Вместо мягкой постели и воздушных шаров
Чтоб торжественно , гордо уйти ,
Отчужденный , обиженный , спал и курил
На костях ты своих больных
Но быть может , когда - то ты жил и любил
Среди как бы , казалось своих ,
Обернулось , сломалось , а возможно не смог
Не нашел нужных слов и акцентов
Пропади же ты пропадом , сказал тебе бог
И пропал в переломных моментах ,
Жалеть не хочу это чувство плохое
Бессмысленное и немое
Хочется просто чтоб хотя бы сейчас
Ты обрел в достатке покоя .

I wrote remake of the Jungle Bells
Check it:
Fucking snow
Fucking snow
Snow is everywhere
I will die
I can't survive
This winter every year!
Fucking cold
Fucking cold
Slush and sleet again
Runny nose
And crazy blows
Welcome to Ukraine
yo

Red-haired BITCH!

This video made for one of my friend. But others, too, can watch and raise my rating internet stars)

Little, preview story:

I had a purpose - to meet my friend at the airport BUT, due to unforeseen circumstances I could not do it.

By this, I found another way out and shot this Russian-English video about an imaginary meeting)))