Мои стихи

[Krag]

Ну чтож, согласен, пожалуй, уже даже не 1,5 человека, а, быть может, и три, а то и все три с половиной. Уже цифра.

 

мда, вот уж 2 месяца кряду мы страдаем поэзией. как страшно жить.

 

 

Sleep Away

 

I sleep away another day.

Time slips from hands like wasted clay

Of tile that’s born from faulty mold.

Futile attempts are getting old.

 

I sleep away another dawn.

So steep is way, so faint is brawn,

Instead of feeling morning’s spunk,

In slumber’s dread I’m heaping junk.

 

I sleep away another night

In cheap motel, my dreams are trite,

My hopes long gone but that’s OK

In ropes of motionless decay.

 

I sleep away another dusk,

Mute creep to state of frozen husk.

Struck dumb by sound of running sand,

Succumb to numbness, can’t withstand.

 

I sleep away another year,

Too deep in sloth, my death is near,

My end is close yet I don’t move,

Impending doom I do approve.

 

I sleep away my only life,

Long sip from cup of static strife.

In comatosic paralyze

I have no will for paradise.

 

 

Jade

 

Cracks are bleeding, tracks are burning,

Facts are screaming, tax of learning,

Price of yearning, vice of trusting,

Vise of longing, slice of lusting.

 

Soul is rusting, toll is raiding,

Whole is crumbling, goal is fading.

Fear invading, sphere of jailing,

Hear the roiling gear of flailing.

 

Sight is failing, might is seeping,

Blight is crawling, fright is creeping,

Eyes are weeping, cries are grating,

Ties are shredding, skies are hating.

 

Still, I’m waiting. Bill is grinding,

Will is breaking, chill is binding,

Pain is blinding, strain is crushing,

Brain is melting, bane is rushing.

 

Grief is gushing, thief is grinning,

Chief of scorning, brief’s his winning,

King of sinning, sting of mourning,

Spring of tricking, wing of morning.

 

Heard my warning, blurred yet glaring,

Stirred yet calming, word so caring,

Aid repairing, made me braving.

Jade is forging blade of saving.

 

Sea

 

A pair of crystal grains,

Two gemstones born of roiling pains,

They rush to floor in haste.

With reddened eyes and misty sight,

I watch their short but tragic flight.

Tears shatter into waste.

 

One little bitter sea.

A depth of loneliness I see

Between my shabby shoes.

In solitude and heavy blues,

Cold shade of grayscale rainbow’s hues,

I take a silent cruise.

 

Still journey back and forth,

From icy shores of parting’s north

To southern cliffs of scorn.

Like spiral trapped in tiny dot,

I curve in circles, forming knot

Of shackled heart forlorn.

 

Coiled voyage feels so worn.

To land of misery I’m bourne,

To port of endless fall.

I circle round and round enthralled,

But pawn in somber tempests’s hold...

Will blessed wind break this squall?

 

It will

and light will shine.

Until,

I’ll spill

repentant brine

to fill

My hollow mind with thoughts divine.

 

 

Summer Ends

 

Summer ends but scars go on,

Nights like limes and days like tars.

Scars like stairs and cares like stars,

Distant lights of brighter dawn.

 

Summer ends with skull in skiesю

Morbid bless or tender curse?

Terse is sign, divining worse...

Witless guise of moonlit lies!

 

Summer ends while tears still flow,

Fluent peaks and edgy lakes,

Quakes of dread and shredding wakes.

Moats on roads to aether glow.

 

Summer ends yet war proceeds,

Kissing blades and gashing lips.

Trips to hells for wells of tips,

Paying fare with daring deeds.

 

Summer ends in shades of flames,

Mends that char and brands that fix.

Bricks of sparks and marks from tricks,

Inner blaze to raze ill blames.

 

Summer ends as tile on path.

Stops to soar and flights to drown.

Clown at fair or heir to crown,

Little choices act as laths.

 

Summer ends for hidden starts.

Shy ascends and bragging falls,

Halls of jade, upgrading squalls,

Waypoints on celestial charts.

 

 

Break the Seal

 

Nets of slumber, webbing daze,

Debts of seeking easy prey,

Bets so greedy, staking craze,

Threats of living day to day.

 

Fumes of proudness sooting hearts,

Blooms of lusting smutting minds,

Glooms of hunger draining smarts,

Dooms are many, few are finds.

 

Gaps of hatred, red abyss,

Straps of envy, strangling moss,

Traps of fiction, fevered bliss,

Maps to failure, paths of loss.

 

Glee of pleasure, glossy bait,

Fee of craving, matted hook.

Spree of passion, latchened gates,

Key is hidden in the Book.

 

Pool of wisdom waits within,

Rule of law and scheme of right,

Tool to bust tight grasp of sin.

Who’ll give you a greater might?

 

Break the seal of forged truth,

Brake the wheel of crafty lies,

Wake ideals of stolen youth,

Make a deal with just allies.

[Krag]

Апнем, что ли... на этот раз даже два русских есть (ибо писал не просто так, а конкретным людям с конкретной целью, потому и пришлось обратиться к великому и могучему).

 

первое - безымянное.

 

 

 

В многолюдном лабиринте

Стены лиц, изгибы слов,

Перекрестья судьб и снов,

Что соцветья гиацинта,

Укрывает стебель мира

Саван нежных лепестков,

Цепь прекраснейших оков

Сотворения кумира.

Много звеньев, мало крыльев,

Ветер пойман красотой,

Хохот схвачен пустотой,

Вечность стонет, обессилев,

Под напором пестрых сказок.

Время вензелем бежит,

Сердце глыбою лежит,

Ум боится злых подсказок.

Нарисованной картиной

Подменяются мечты.

В радужном смятеньи, ты

Странствуешь петлею длинной.

Жгутся залпом сигареты.

Одиночество кругом

Раскаленным утюгом

Испарило все приветы.

Пепел сер, но явь не ярче,

День как ночь и ночь как день.

Смертного тумана тень

Льнет объятьями пожарче.

Улыбнись же ей пошире,

Будет пламенный рассвет.

Кровью алой, новый свет

Путь прочертит в дымном мире.

Не грусти, гони тревоги,

Пусть царит веселья гром.

Черноте грозит разгром,

Счастье будет в эпилоге.

 

 

Плоть и дух

 

Плоть немощна, но дух силён.

В остроге слабости, страстей,

В оковах мяса и костей

Горит, заветом убелён,

Господним словом окрылён.

Не знает меж, не чтит границ,

Парит вольнее диких птиц,

Пересекая смерти тлён,

Он раздирает тьмы покров,

Вуаль скорбей, завесу слез,

Ломает хватку блеклых грез,

Объятья непроглядных снов.

Громит твердыни вечных мук

Отточенным клинком молитв

Герой несчетных страшных битв.

Пусть враг, не покладая рук,

Соблазном сумрачных даров

Терзает истины доспех.

Пусть Землю воспаляет грех,

Мир прокажен, но дух - здоров.

Мир искажен, но дух - правдив.

Маяк средь ледяной ночи,

Рассвета теплые лучи,

Сиянье невозможных див,

Что озаряет верный путь,

Извечный свет внутри тебя

Пылает, искренне любя.

Он может узы разомкнуть,

На многое благословлён

Святым крещением небес.

Пусть тяжек вес, хохочет бес,

Плоть немощна, но дух - силён.

 

 

А теперь пойдет привычная череда англоязычных.

 

 

Loss

 

Webs of scars are golden seams.

Blind to stars, deserting dreams,

Hiding mars in ill extremes,

Caged in bars of faulty teams,

Swept away by cruel streams,

We are lost in silent screams.

 

Death we seek but life is long.

Brutal clique, malicious throng,

Source of bleak, dissonant song,

Acting meek while hitting strong,

To the darkness we belong.

Searing light will right our wrong.

 

Road of loss leads us to gain.

Bearing cross, through freezing rain,

Held by dross, with thoughts insane,

Scared of costs, in reign of strain,

Staggering to barren plain

Where seeds of life are sown by pain.

 

 

Rejecting Your Childhood

 

Rejecting your childhood,

Dumping bright gift,

Euphoric in riled mood,

In bliss of grave shift.

 

In arrogant proudness

Of coming to age,

With temper and loudness

Adult life you wage.

 

So full of cheap wisdom,

So free of free thought,

Submission to mythdom,

Is that what you sought?

 

But lurid illusion

Of knowledge and sense?

Eternal confusion,

Delusion so dense?

 

It’s nifty and nicy

And joyful, that’s sure.

Still, don’t you feel icy

Breath, lurking near lure?

 

It feels cool and snappy,

This beautiful wrap.

Ignorant and happy,

You walk into trap.

 

In jovial strolling

Through maturity’s maze,

Your virtues start rolling

Towards hellish blaze.

 

Your innocence, choking,

In cigarette smoke.

You’re smiling and joking,

Embracing gray yoke.

 

Your innocence, drowning,

On bottom of glass,

As gibbering clowning

Replaces blessed mass.

 

Your innocence, screaming,

With you in some bed.

While pleasure is streaming,

Corruption is spread.

 

Your innocence, fading,

In flames of dark deeds.

Your mind is degrading

From plague of stark needs.

 

Your body is blooming,

Your soul is but sand.

Great future is looming,

Yet life came to end.

 

Rejected your childhood,

Accepted new course.

By chasing defiled good

Became living corpse.

 

 

Standing in Dusk

 

Amidst a shattered dusk,

Igniting yet obfusk,

I stand like empty husk.

Gaunt shadows start to dance.

 

I stand in corpse-like trance,

Bereft of every chance

Of fortunate advance.

Air radiating scorn.

 

I stand so dim and worn.

With leaden tears I mourn

Pure happiness unborn.

Harsh gush of blackened glare.

 

Like abyss is my stare,

Long chasm deluged with scare.

I stand in blank despair.

Cold wind like streaming claws.

 

I stand, entombed in “was”,

In everlasting pause,

Damp crypt for selfish flaws.

Night’s fangs surround my throat.

 

I stand on isle remote,

In ring of sorrow’s moat

Where darkest feelings float.

Fleet seconds crawl as days.

 

I stand in deathly daze.

I long for waking blaze,

I pray for warming rays...

How long ‘til mending dawn?

 

 

Наконец, последнее, которым я даже немного горжусь.

 

enlightningment

 

I bask in frozen flash of lightning,

In halted pureness of cold rage.

Split-second holding still and fright’ning

While world is seen as empty page.

 

Achromic surge reveals real essence,

No shadows last in bleaching tide,

No specters bear frore luminescence,

In lucent realm truth cannot hide.

 

Reality is but blank surface,

Sly trap for proud and lustful folk,

Beguilers painting their preferred face

Are bound to burn in silver stroke.

 

Reality is but clean record,

Foundation for the stairs to sky,

Majestic structure many-deckered,

Route of escaping selfish “I”.

 

Reality is but bare nothing,

Void space to build your start or end,

To waste your words in meanless guffing

Or whisper prayer as you ascend.

 

I stand in stark domain of whiteness,

Albescent plain of lovely wrath.

Then lightning fades yet seal of brightness

Remains in heart to show right path.

[Мар]

В первых русскоязычных подкупает ироничность и милый моему сердцу стёб :D

Два последних - странные.. Странные на мой взгляд, ессно.

Стены лиц, изгибы слов,..

Эта строчка - полный экстаз.

Всё остальное можно было уже не писать ^_^ Потому что именно в этой строчке вся мысль и сконцентрировалась. Думаю, Вишневский удавился бы от зависти.

Ей-бо, унесу эту строчечку в свою коллекцию одностиший...

[Krag]

Во времена первых русскоязычных было веселее, оттого и ирония со стебом. Если веселье успеет вернутся до момента нашей смерти, может что-то еще и напишем.

Последние просто заточены под определенных людей и локальные жизненные ситуации, логично, что могут казаться странными кому-то еще, кроме автора и реципиента.

 

Что до строчки - да, возможно, что дальше стоило и не писать. Но так уж сложилось.

 

 

О, заодно с ответом можно и свеженаписанное повыкладывать.

 

 

Three Wishes

 

Lord, I wish I was one with nothing

For I’m stuck being one with pain,

Happy owner of heinous suff’ring,

Lonely ruler of bleak domain.

 

Haggard liege raising tax of dolor,

Crumbling under his grievous gain.

Bound to kingdom devoid of color.

Trapped in lengthly prolific reign.

 

In abundance of dismal treasures,

So encircled by glum obtains,

I am drowning in bitter leisures,

I am burning in sad refrains.

 

God, I wish I was burnt to cinders

For my flesh is red field of nicks.

Every footstep like molten flinders,

Drops of lava in countless pricks.

 

Hellish journey through grim dimension,

Far away from the river Styx.

In pursuit of sublime ascension

When I want to become but nix.

 

Christ, I wish I was just decaying,

For Your words set my life ablaze.

Don’t stay quiet as I’m ardently praying,

With Your hope light my desolate days.

 

 

Decay

 

I walk through dim and fevered town

Rejecting gusts of putrid wind

With bursts of cough, yet crowd around

Don’t even frowns, folks so thick-skinned.

 

With lovely thoughts in blissful brains

They march, creating raucous beat.

Afflicted streets like pulsing veins

That carry flow of mindless meat.

 

So high on dreams, so deep in sins,

So drowned in slaking common lust

By any means, poor “could have beens”

Mistaking bread of life with dust.

 

Encrusting rust, disease of crime,

They wear as plate to fend off fears,

Majestic nobles, smeared in grime,

We’ll see how filth will hold ‘gainst spears.

 

Equating pleasureful and just,

Discarding price, enshrining goal,

For lurid happiness so curst

Are glad to pay with needless soul.

 

Impeding grace for sake of joy,

Gangrenous rot is what they earn.

While chasing cheap, absurd decoy,

Infection spreads, minds start to burn.

 

But taking heat as warming charms,

They build constructs with lepric hands

On sands of pride. By tainted arms

Decay is subjugating lands.

 

Past nests of plague, past hives of blight

I walk, enraged by sneering wrongs,

In flames of self-directed spite

For I’m still part of sullen throngs.

 

For I’m still far from boundless cure,

For I’m still ill with wretching needs.

I will endure, becoming pure

Through grace sublime and daring deeds.

 

 

I Want to Praise You

 

I want to praise You loud and sound

But lips so cracked and tongue so dry

And throat so sore like hulking mound

Entomb my hymn in stifled cry.

 

I want to praise You apt and smart

But firing neurons miss their aim,

Distortion broke my mind apart

So now my thoughts are dim and lame.

 

I want to praise You stout and firm,

But hands just shake and legs just limp,

I’m slithering like feeble worm,

My worship goes with strength of shrimp.

 

I want to praise You sure and clear

But people laugh at raving clown,

They cast me down and curse and sneer

And throw to pit of spite, I drown.

 

I want to praise You ‘til my death

But dark are days, I’m burning out,

Forgetting hopes and wasting breath

In fruitless wailings full of doubt.

 

I want to praise You best I can

But best I can is less than null

For I am weak and sinful man

With void of sorrow in my skull.

 

I want to praise You, Christ, my Lord,

Please, don’t stay silent on Your throne,

Don’t make my ardent prayers ignored,

Deliver me, oh, God unknown!

[Krag]

Unity

 

How d’you do, passers-by with glum faces?

Just don’t tell me you share hell of mine!

So... You do? Then let’s talk, it is fine.

Let’s remember bright light which erases

Our mistakes and inverts our decline,

Tender brilliance of Godly embraces.

 

We’re so small, we’re so frail, we’re so crying,

We’re so quick to lose hope and despair,

Yet, we’re used to take on solitaire,

But in loneliness colours are drying

And like shattering stone falls our prayer,

Words refuse to accept gift of flying.

 

Isolation is withering option,

Path unfertile and road of decay,

Moving downstairs in chasm of dismay

Till the entrance of faithless abortion.

Why surrender to squandering way

When there’s offer of holy adoption?

 

Blood in veins, sanguine moat separating,

Dissipation in psyche and flesh,

We’re opposed, but empyreal mesh

Of Christ’s sacrifice bounds us, equating,

Holds us tight, river tender and fresh,

Through His blood we have means of relating.

 

Thus, we’re brothers and sisters in Glory,

Let’s unite in preeminent fist

To destroy black embittering mist,

Overcome our nefarious quarry,

Liquidate reprehensible cyst.

With His might, let’s establish grand story.

 

 

Blanket

 

Another day of bitter luck and hopeless longing.

As pack of wolves, hours chased me straight to fortress

Of creaky bed, my solacing belonging.

I hide ‘sides glacial walls of quiet supportress.

 

Outside, through darkened city, mistral winds are singing,

Enacting tales of death and resurrection.

Swift vanguard, clearing way for brumal stinging,

Pervading room with boreal affection.

 

Frost ‘round my heart is reinforced by outer rigor,

Thus, sheets like argent floe, suppressing vision,

And pillow is like iceberg, sapping vigor,

‘Midst arctic plain I lay in numb excision.

 

Before, I had a star with radiance so mending,

But now my skies are black ascending fissure,

Abyss of loathing, scorn and lies extending,

Replete with passions, hooks of fallen fisher.

 

Now gone is shine, all dreams are lost to frigid terror

And murky rime is caging bird of trying.

Interred in onyx snow of grievous error,

I thirst for help while drowning in denying.

 

No lips will tend my wounds with balms of gentle kisses,

No arms will lock in heartening embracing,

No mirth will silence choirs of angry hisses,

No loving voice will shatter dread I’m facing.

 

Alone in algid night, marooned in gelid blindness,

I feel so naked, so prone to death by freezing...

Then I remember promise of His kindness,

It serves as fluffy blanket, warm and easing.

 

 

Not Right

 

Suffocating from brisk wind,

Drowning through firm ground.

Were so glad when I have sinned,

Now it’s payback’s round.

 

Bloom with frost on molten stove,

Thaw in gelid icebox.

Grimy hands lost grip of dove,

All that’s left is vice’ pox.

 

Stranded high in hollow skies,

Skimming under tar pits.

Never asked enough of “why’s”,

Benefit of marred wits.

 

Stumbling over clinging mire,

Bogged amidst of highway.

Been snuffed out while set on fire,

Lost myself in sly play.

 

I’m so left, I’m so not right,

Held by error’s grating.

Meager pawn of guilt and fright,

Is there sense in waiting?

 

Far are heavens, here is hell,

Here is keep of sorrow.

In the cell of gloom I dwell

With no hopes for morrow.

 

None can open dreary gates,

None can grant new birthing.

Under strain of grinding weights,

I had missed unearthing.

 

Saw this jail as final square,

Where dead-ends are plenty.

Chosen option of despair,

Last mistake of many.

 

 

Sight

 

Where shadow hides?

Rash flare

Of scare,

Quick glance at sides,

Fleet glare,

Curt stare,

Your vision strides,

Keen pair,

They hare,

Perception slides.

Take care

With prayer.

 

Observant eyes,

Bad trends,

Dim lens,

In maze of guise

Weak friends,

Dead ends.

‘Gainst horrid lies

Sight bends,

Pretends.

But high advice

Transcends,

Defends.

 

Where optic fails,

Implies

Unwise

And brings to jails,

Supplies

Demise,

There light prevails,

Denies

Grim tries,

For price of nails

Fear dies,

We rise.

 

Phantom Chaser

 

Phantom chaser,

Brash trailblazer,

Quick as laser,

Speedy racer

Hunting, hounding

Ghosts surrounding,

Shades abounding,

Fears astounding.

Scent of nether,

Soft as feather,

Grasps like tether,

Altogether,

Haunting feeling,

Cue appealing,

View concealing

Unrevealing,

Flooding vision

Dim division,

Weird incision,

Grand collision

Holding tightly,

Kissing lightly,

Trembling slightly,

Ceasing brightly,

Leaving traces,

Chill embraces,

Misty faces,

Fuel for races,

Sake of questing,

Never resting,

Full investing

Into testing,

Into learning

And discerning

Truth from yearning,

Gloom from burning,

Fact from fiction,

Contradiction.

Stark addiction.

Strong is friction,

Hard to follow

Tracks so hollow,

Yet, quiet wallow

He can’t swallow,

Thus, he chases

Risky cases,

Preys for graces

In dark spaces,

Myth eraser,

Yarn defacer,

Reckless tracer,

Phantom chaser.

 

 

Love, Sacrifice and Loss

 

Loss on the cross was heavy cost,

Bond paid with Son He treasured most,

Sore sacrifice to bake sweet host,

Cure to revive pure love we’ve lost.

 

Route of avoiding endless loss,

Of cleansing mind from marring dross,

Sad sacrifice to get across

Abyss of doom and reach love’s gloss.

 

One grievous loss for future gain,

One surge of woe to suture pain,

To harrow heart and sow love’s grain,

One sacrifice to live again.

 

Sheer loss is loss of death, not life,

Son’s sacrifice, like silver knife,

Will separate rebirth from strife,

Eliminating sins so rife.

 

Don’t idolize His sacrifice

But realize this bitter price,

This loss was born of love to splice

Our souls with light and shatter vice.

 

Loss is not debt, love is not threat,

His sacrifice is gift, not net,

Bright chance of getting faults reset

Is caring present, don’t forget.

[Krag]

Villainelle (это, к слову, вилланель, форма такая стихотворная ну, почти что вилланель)

 

 

I walk through mazes of resounding “trick-or-treat”

Rebuffing jack-o’-lanterns’ smirks with eerie grin,

My soul produces swirling halo of black heat.

 

My heart delights in realm of rollicking deceit

And heinous joy is slowly killing old chagrin,

This mirthful night I’ll feast on carmine nectar sweet.

 

Chimeras, revenants and beastfolk fill each street,

Eclipsing humble fiends who wear but human skin,

My soul produces swirling halo of black heat.

 

Reflection from so broken mirror looks complete,

It brings abundant luck in slaking arid sin,

This mirthful night I’ll feast on carmine nectar sweet.

 

Mischief of playful twilight borns auspicious beat,

Droll Halloween is wondrous gift to cryptic kin,

My soul produces swirling halo of black heat.

 

My nimble feet, they fleet to place where I shall meet

Alluring maiden chaste, appearance fair and thin,

My soul produces swirling halo of black heat,

This mirthful night I’ll feast on carmine nectar sweet.

 

 

 

Ice Age

 

 

Not every winter starts in December.

Fervently glaring, swelling with heat,

Precious as sinter and warming as ember,

Sunrays are rumbling with stiffening beat.

 

Sunrays are rumbling while heartbeat is numbing,

Lurid surroundings and frigid insides.

Meter is stumbling in blundering drumming,

Shivering tumbling of rubicund tides.

 

Rubicon waters in channels so narrow,

Raging and rushing dye coated with floe.

Crossing to slaughters, drawing a harrow,

Sundering glaciers then milling sharp snow.

 

Razor-sharp snowflakes storming through body,

Merciless blizzard ravaging soul.

Foretime bestows quakes of thunder threnodic,

Echo of past devastating the whole.

 

Whole world is thriving when one world is ending,

Basking in sunshine as one starves in cold.

Winter depriving, vicious and rending,

Hellish ice age born from errors of old.

 

Errors are terrors, ghastly and chilling,

Burden too heavy, weight of own grave.

Midst senseless bearers, rigor so killing,

Can one find spring for his world to be saved?

 

 

Merry-go-Round (а это сестина, правда, атипичная т.к. я решил усмирить ее монорифмой + добавил рифмы вторичные, классическая же сестина обходится вообще без рифм)

 

 

Flashbacks are swirling in merry-go-round,

Whirlwind of breakdowns for one sterling pound,

Retrospect vortex I cannot rebound,

Grating my cortex with echoing sound,

Ferrying senses away to confound,

Burying conscience ‘neath resonant mound.

 

Landslide revolving, no chance to surmount,

Slowly dissolving me round after round,

Melting in spiraling fissure profound,

Viraling, maddening, locking in pound,

Latching me down in condition unsound,

Catching in prison where terrors abound.

 

Mobius shackles infinitely bound,

Sanity crackles below pristine mound,

Reason collapses with clamorous sound,

Shuddering lapses become daily rounds,

Chanting omission completely impounds,

Juxtaposition of lost and unfound.

 

Circular horror malignantly founds

Ravenous borer depressing inbound,

Helical drilling and tendrillar pounds,

Tilling and harrowing barrier mounds,

Seeding delirium in fecund ground,

Phobias feeding from preterite sound.

 

Nourishing brine makes all nightmares resound,

Shadows confine, paralyze and dumbfound,

Fogging my nerves in remembrance around,

Bogging my mind in perdition unbound,

Shards of my past cause torment paramount,

Memories cast this infernal compound.

 

Haunting affliction is what it propounds,

Daunting rehearsal of piercing missounds,

Bitter awareness in lethal amounts,

Images litter from venomous founts,

Visions voluted grotesquely spellbound,

Panic diluted with stupor surrounds.

 

Wisdom I’ve found serves as torture too sound,

Soul decompounds on this merry-go-round,

Cannot dismount, to Gehenna I’m bound.

 

 

End of one world

 

 

It was routine, prosaic cosmic evening.

Armada Ten, “Conquerors of Unseen”,

Were desperate to find a task enliv’ning,

To launch decisive strike against old spleen.

 

But to their vehement dismay,

All means of joy were worn away.

 

All games were played, all crosswords solved

And then erased and solved again,

And then once more, once more revolved,

And cheesy jokes were told in vain,

For when you hear them thousand times,

What can they bring but swearing rhymes?

 

Dark smell of mutiny arousing

Required some serious carousing,

Yet, drinks were guzzled long ago,

So how would you stop overthrow?

 

Commander Lump, full chest of medals,

Scarred veteran of six sampaigns,

He knew sly buttons and wry pedals,

He was expert at holding reigns.

 

Not thinking long, he found a way –

It’s time for guns to have their say!

And it was not mass execution,

But kind of similar solution.

 

Nearby them hovered planet new,

Abhorrent globe of bluish hue,

With stink of oxygenic bane,

Huge gravity as killing strain,

Corrupting rays of orange sun

Creating heat to bake as bun,

Voluminous aquatic blight,

How could one bear such horrid sight?

 

To clean the space and make some thrill,

Commander Lump has ordered drill,

Decreeing to destroy that world,

So to the weapons crew were hurled.

 

There was quick scan for sentient things,

But scanner shed no irksome pings.

(and sentient things, as we all know,

have twenty tendrils long in row)

 

Rest of our story is quite simple:

One mighty burst and ugly pimple

In bright, magnificient collapse

Was cleaned from all galactic maps.

 

All engines made advancing thrust

And cheerful fleet went to extend

Empire so glorious and just

As awful world has met its end.

 

 

Наконец, если вы хотите как следует оценить последние три (если тут вообще кто-то осмелится все это оценивать) - они относятся к моему проекту "Face to Face - Fever". Суть в том, что так называется ранний альбом группы The Klinik - 14 песен, на каждая из которых, в итоге, будет пропущена чрез мое взгоряченное сознание, приобретая таким чином форму стиха. Как следствие, для полного восприятия их лучше всего читать под одноименные трэки. Если что - альбом достаточно легко найти, и я рекомендую именно альбом, а не лайв-записи, т.к. прижизненно Клиника не совсем так работает. IMNSHO.

 

 

Cold As Ice

 

 

Cold as ice, craving,

Needing lurid fix,

Throwing your dice, braving,

Getting six-six-six.

 

Crying with sweat, honey,

Reaching vital score,

Winning your bet. Funny,

Losing so much more.

 

Triple is curse, boiling,

Filling veins with heat.

Firsts of the firsts, coiling,

Beg for one more hit.

 

Taking your shot, slowly,

Quenching pain with flame.

Growing so hot, wholly,

Loving fevered game.

 

Burning away, gladly,

Charring hurtful hope.

Pleasure won’t stay, sadly,

Short is flare of dope.

 

Fleeting is bliss, flashing,

Blink - and passion dies.

Deep in abyss, gnashing,

Feeling cold as ice...

 

You’re cold as ice!!!

 

 

 

Lies

 

 

Slithering structures strangle skies,

Calumny smothers proper rise,

Daybreak undone,

Basking in fun

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Firmament snared by makeshift ties,

Fiction absorbing restless cries,

Answers with rain,

Heavy yet vain

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Murmuring drops confide advice,

Planting deceit in reckless tries,

Sapling concealed

Offers great yield

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Opulent harvest, rampant prize,

Lavish distortion men apprise,

Selling their crop,

Wanting to shop

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Fraudulent gold erects unwise

Towers on sand to conquer highs,

Proudful mirage,

Mocking collage,

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Devious spires are bad allies,

Crumbling on ground they bring demise,

Ponderous crypts,

Marvelous scripts

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

Looking at land entombed in guise,

Want to tear out my throbbing eyes,

Falsehood abounds,

Nightmare surrounds,

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

LIES!!!

 

 

Out Of Line (а эт вообще чистая лирика вышла, т.к. у оригинала собственной нет; поется под партию начинающуюся где-то на 40 секунде, в общем, там тяжело не заметить)

 

 

Out of line,

I’m wandering shine,

Figure divine

Refining new cline.

 

Out of line,

No longer but hine,

So palatine

Assigning own shrine.

 

Out of line,

I’m ruler benign,

Let’s undersign

Thine will to align.

 

Out of line,

Oh, let us entwine,

Let us combine,

Be mine concubine.

 

Out of line,

Spill out sanguine wine,

Rupture bright vine,

Malign all that’s trine.

 

Out of line,

With roar leonine,

Stealing lame kine,

Confining supine.

 

Out of line,

I was there langsyne,

Scaly and fine,

Defining decline.

 

Out of line,

I will undermine,

Signing indign,

Together we’ll dwine.

[Krag]

в кои-то веки написав что-то на русском (аж 1 стих, порадовавший конкретного человека - когда пишешь живым людям приходится возвращатсья к родной речи, иную они понимают слегка иначе), мы получили номинальный смысл для апа темы.

 

 

Серый градиент неба,

Осень гаснет,

Тусклые нотки,

Оттиск долгой ночи в улыбке

Девочки-готки.

Свежего ветра,

Тепла,

Счастья щепотки

Ждет хрустальное сердце

Под звуки трещотки

Мира залипшего

В двойной перемотке.

 

Ритмика толп,

Такт безразличный,

Монотонный пульс жизни

Бьет в венах столичных.

Гул громовой,

Но какой-то безличный,

Общество рядом,

Но где кто-то личный?

Угол света

В лабиринте публичном?

 

В девять тысяч сто тридцать

Первый день жизни

Идет, улыбаясь

В укор дешевизне

Отношений, где люди

Не люди, а слизни,

Не в тягучей прелюдии,

Не в затяжной тризне -

Шагом индустриально бойким,

Хоть возьми дождь и брызни.

 

Дома ждут куклы,

Кот и мама.

Круг неширокий,

Но все ж не Обама.

Зайдут друзья.

Быть может,

Зазвучит Диорама.

В привычных стенах

Домашнего храма

Проблескнет искра

Заводного бедлама

И померкнет на миг

Вездесущая драма.

 

Ведь ночь далеко не вечна,

Бессмысленность - тоже.

Пускай четверть века,

Никак не моложе,

Не очень уютно,

Не слишком пригоже

За шиворот лезет

Мурашкой по коже.

Пускай,

Дальше будет

Совсем непохоже,

Искристая радость,

Та,

Что гость незахожий,

От спячки проснется

И,

Покинувши ложе,

Навеки завьется

Улыбкой по роже.

Стремись, дорогая,

Успех тут положен.

 

ну а следом дела попривычнее:

 

Hexina

 

This night I craft a curse.

Old words of eldritch spite

I write with livid flame,

One name as hub I trace,

Debase and ancient hex

Injects brisk air with dread.

 

With throbbing, pulsing dread

Purebred for haunting curst.

Immersed in depths of hex,

They, vexed by noxious spite,

Ignite and leave no trace,

Erased by craving flame.

 

By otherworldly flame

Which came from times so dread.

I bled as I retraced,

Embraced forgotten curse,

Disbursed by clots to spite

One wight with force of hex.

 

So blaze of hundred hecks,

Dark execrating flame

Will claim my foe like spate

Of hate and utter dread,

Embed him in grim course

Where force of will betrays.

 

Remorselessly outraze

His days with searing hex.

Sheer excellence of curse,

But verse to set aflame,

To maim and drown in dread,

Behead with no respite.

 

I craft revenge despite

This blighting leaving trace,

One pays for might of dread

With stead in row of hacks,

Contracts himself to flames,

Proclaims vile oath to curse.

 

I pay, despite own dread,

Mad price for cursing flames,

Soul for outrazing hex.

 

 

Inner Light in Outer Dark

 

Our mind can only wish for nothing,

Oblivion is fancy dream.

In strict result produced by mathing,

Well-calculated,cogent scheme,

Why had I sought for freedom's seam?

With force, I stifle bursting scream.

 

I sought salvation in the starkness,

I thought that answer lies in void

But who can hide white light in darkness,

In gloom and emptiness alloyed?

In twilight realm my hope's destroyed,

My willful urge is more than cloyed.

 

Abyss abides in our illusions,

Omission lasts until soul wakes.

Mislead by logical conclusions,

Confused by burden of mistakes,

Perplexed by unrelenting aches,

I played a game with graven stakes.

 

To cease the pain I ceased the living,

A sound and reasonable deal.

Who could have guessed I'd be conceiving

This mockery, this sight surreal!

I wanted to escape ordeal...

Chimeras stalk and specters reel.

 

Absentness takes away from feeling,

But where was void now there am I

So hollow blackness starts revealing

Transparent truth in endless sky.

I'm holding back deranged cry

As shadows swagger near and nigh.

 

I'm not alone in lifeless shelter,

So fertile is this barren space...

It liquefies my self like smelter

And pours it, drenching nil in trace

Of my desire, of certain face,

Of everything I couldn’t brace!

 

I am small spark to set ignition.

I close my eyes yet I still see

For lids in gossamer condition

Cannot rebuff inception’s spree.

I pray, I beg, but ardent plea

Just stirs originating sea.

 

Appaling figures, horrid structures,

From less than thin air shapes appear

Constructed under skillful ductures,

Precise commands of deepest fear.

Abominations sternly jeer

And smoky phantoms whirl and sneer.

 

Monstrosities infest blank regions,

Still, I am startled and aghast

Not by those swirling, churning legions.

It’s vivid pictures of my past,

Sore memories in perfect cast

Which make my terror unsurpassed.

 

Nihility became creation

By kindling touch of little flame.

In midst of newborn aberration,

As heart of everchanging frame,

Replete with so belated blame,

I break and shout one precious name.

 

There’s no reply, scream dies in vain.

Yes, words will fade but I’ll remain,

Enduring unforgiving pain,

Eternal king of dismal plane.

 

 

Three Stages of Fall

 

Sentenced September,

Last cigarette's ember.

Inhaling terminal dose of warmness

With smile so somber, bonded in worn nets,

You stand on spot high before red judging eye,

Dreaming of pardon when you know it's good-bye.

Never perceiving, court is now leaving,

Solar decree gives you seconds for grieving,

Weeping while catching one finishing fleck,

Feeling cold pressure of rope 'round your neck.

 

October-Cobber,

Denounced as vile robber.

Achromic firmament mourns, bleeds with bleach,

But trap door is opened, too late to beseech .

Now brisk winds are mauling, fervently squalling,

Yet air stays still, it is you who are falling.

Golden feathers are torn from your fiery wings,

Wrings wrecking wondrous skin, quenching in stings,

Mistral touch razing, chasing your drop,

Dread harness reminding that there will be stop.

 

Noble November,

Martyr dismembered.

Ligature snapped so, crashing, you found

Yourself lying at festering ground,

Fractured apart by sheer force of impact,

Oxidized terrain molesting so thwacked,

Ruptured remains, feeding off fading heat.

Carcass is left, treat for birds in retreat.

Bones sleep below slowly gathering snow,

Slipping in tomb that will never be known.

 

Barmy Riddles

 

Quest-shun! Quest-shun!

Heals like barrel of a gun,

Reels like mountain under sun,

Kneels like king before no-one,

Peals like prisoner on run,

Feels like shadow weighting ton,

Seels our games with blissful fun,

Who is end of things undone?

Who is there where we are none?

 

Quest-shone! Quest-shone!

Soars like dead man lying prone,

Floors like truth forever known.

Pours like water from a stone,

Scores like fastball blindly thrown,

Wars like prince desiring throne,

Whores to sign eternal loan,

Who is many yet alone?

Who steals treasures we don't own?

 

Quest-sheen! Quest-sheen!

Saves like guardsmen killing queen,

Paves like fields of caltrops keen,

Waives like plague with no vaccine,

Laves like surging flow unclean,

Braves like spiritless machine,

Slaves to multiply routine,

Who paints over mirror’s screen?

Who tells us what we had seen?

 

 

Small Worlds

 

Noises,

Stark afterglow of once loving voices,

Piercing distortions enslaving my choices.

Losing composure, bereft of last poises,

Seeking for light.

 

In shades.

Broken ambitions collide with warped dreams,

Forming blue network of desolate streams.

Wading through darkness, through echo of screams,

Straight to four doors, to soterial gleams,

Pathways of light.

 

Door one.

Forlornness of livid hunger’s disgrace,

Wishful craving for things one can never embrace,

Yearning’s carcass is marooned in deep space,

Dolorous vestige as first stair in long chase,

Following light.

 

Door two.

Sip verdant wine and sleep, my deary,

Forgetting nightmares bleak and dreary,

Erasing memories so weary,

Mix drips of jade with essence teary

And rest while I shall steal your light.

 

Door three.

Green calmness of all desires shattered,

Solemn peace of worldly affairs scattered,

Serenity grows where passions get tattered,

Where spread and dispersed are things which have mattered

I’m finding third light.

 

Door four.

Albescent wedding dress on beautiful bride,

Pure sight stings with briskness, yet what lays inside?

Her heart was caressing munitions of pride,

‘Til temper hot burst and in coldness she died,

From her stiffened fingers I’m taking last light.

 

Escape.

Engines: ready, systems: all right,

Course is set, engaging in flight,

With all the power, with all the might,

I drive to immerse in solacing light.

 

Silence.

[Krag]

Забил я в последнее время на поэзию, т.к. не для кого писать. Ну, оно и раньше примерно так было, но соседствовало с надеждой, что все ж есть, ан нет, чудеса под заказ не выписывают. А зря.

 

 

Туман

 

Манящий свет далеких звёзд

Перегорает в бледный мрак,

И прежний мост через овраг

Теперь руины милых грёз.

Все не всерьёз,

Все будто так,

Пустяк, струящийся как дым.

Он жрет рассвет и пьет закат,

Шаблонным ходом ставит мат

И ранит залпом холостым,

Клинком пустым

Рвет толщу лат,

Чтоб дат бесплотный монолит

Плитой надгробною давил,

А шаг ловил голодный ил,

Тащил в упадочный зенит,

Где сердце спит,

Так мало сил...

Удил, теснящихся к губам,

Не чуешь сквозь прохладный сон.

Под будничный тоскливый тон,

Сочащийся назло мольбам,

Седым клубам

На перегон,

Пронзен, бредешь ни в рай, ни в ад,

Бесцельно целою тропой,

В густом тумане как слепой,

В лесу заезженных шарад,

Не веря в сад под скорлупой,

Все ищешь поворот назад.

[Рэки]

Вернись ко мне лишь на мгновение,

Мне хватит несколько секунд.

Дотронься тёплою ладонью,

И растопи холодный лёд..

Не нужно мрачных сожалений,

И слёз блестящих на лице..

Я обещаю - будет солнце!

И надпись Анна на кольце..