Another Week Day Poetry: Your Breasts Is The Best But Your Brain Is A32 Size Tumour

Your titties will get shitty soon,

So play again the song you like to croon.

Your posture will get shrunk one day

And skin will be as wrinkled as shar pei.

Your titties will be hanging on your knees

And no one will be willing for a squeeze,

Your charming bum that jiggles on the go,

Won't do it all the time, you know...

Beside all that you'll die. And probably in pain.

So please make sure your titties weren't here in vain,

When you'll be suffering in smelly, pissed, old bed,

Make sure you'll think 'life wasn't really bad'.

«It's sweet, long life»,- you'll say without shade of doubt,

Well yeah, until you really think about,

About inescapable, yet simple trick of fate,

My dear, your titties will get shitty soon or late.

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 .

New song chapz-gutz

 

Love is for the Living - One day

I bet you'd like to here more so https://soundcloud.com/#love-is-for-the-living

 

ZOMBIE DREAMS

(Maybe i just watched too passionately the walking dead and can't wait for 3th season but it was long ago anyway)

 It was sooo fucking scary!

 I live in two worlds. The usual shitty, in which we all live and the world is captured by zombies. several times I had a dream about the end of the world. In the world only zombies, and few, escaping, groups of people. I am one of the groups. Everywhere ruins. Panic. Fear. Attack. Battles. Traps. The chase. Death. Chaos.

 An eerie feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. I learned how to kill. Chopping the head of zombies. all the time I running away and save. I have a dagger and a sword. When I wake up I feel that I really visited the war. I do not relax during sleep. I'm always in a tone, expecting an attack. In my dream I can not sleep, all the surviving people do not sleep already for a few weeks. Around a lot of traps. I'm trying to come up with a strategy but all a failure.

 The last thing I thought that there are no more options, zombies slowly come and all the shelters and hiding places will be destroyed. There is no salvation. I think it is better to kill myself. And then I thought, maybe it's worth to try to lure all the zombies in the ocean?And then blow up the ocean. Then I woke up.

 We'll see what happens next)

P.S. Once, I even played the role a zombie.

love is for the living - Locks of gold hair