some of my poems
* * *
my gardener has beautiful hands tall grasses blue roses
the trees behind him rise like dragon teeth
like hedges
thistle gave its prickes to other daisies
his garden has true summer tropical birds heavenly animals
at night cicadas crickets mantises praise him the way they can
what of tempters creepy crawlies little beasts?
joyful lizards coloured snakes ah here they are
* * *
we walk along the embankment of love
the tide of blood roars in my ears
in my eyes, wordless dictionaries above
and my heart’s granite softly crumbles
– spring calling! spring calling! –
all the radio stations of the big heart are on air
moscow in bloom is flaming
in the myriad-starred mirror can’t enough stare
– we’re simply walking along the alley
bigger louder kinder angrier
more in love and in power than any –
of boys
---
when two or more boys gather in a room
an enormous supposedly invisible elephant appears
in the air between them
called sex
how can we talk
what noble topics
when I want you
to kiss
to tear shirt apart
to get into pants
to take into mouth
to kiss and to bite
practically everywhere
i can't see you
can’t glance/peek inside you
no way to know if you want the same
but
by indirect signs
one can hope
for reciprocity
---
one
touch
fugue of the tactile
this is the most complete
the most sincere
utterance
this is it
one
and only available step
to the other that is to each other
that is
one
fleeting contact
a usual seemingly ordinary patch of skin
not only becomes erogenous
but becomes a bilingual space
of full and precise translation
from the language of me to the language of you
boys for the most part
are not talkative but perceptive
that
said
one must strive
one must learn
one must master languages
---
and what can we think of
when we are finally alone
what can we tell so there’s
no pain
no fear
what have we seen except violence submission threats and authority
what else can we imagine
let's believe that strength is in gentleness
that there’s nothing but tenderness
and speak to each other
hear each other
only like this
while holding hands
survival strategies
*
One of my friends
(20 years older than me)
dropped out of uni
got hitched
the right way
and
quickly split
now he cries a lot
for the lost time
for the opportunities
he missed
*
One of my friends
(among many)
made his choice
now he's comfy
neat
he's married
and his missus is fine
(she's my friend too)
they're all good
*
One of my friends
(10 years younger than me
if you must know)
has been in love or loving
for eight years now
but what's he to do when
the teen's tender body is changing?
*
One of my friends
(white heterosexual cisgender male)
obsessed with his girl
thirsty for blood and bread
professional gawker
permanent witness
persistent observer
he's physically incapable
of not running around his girl
not adjusting the cotton russian scarf
on her shoulders
not kissing away every footprint
she leaves on the beach
not buzzing like a bee around a flower
*
One of my friends
(i was in love
and he apparently was not)
got his personal life really complicated:
he had me
and a bunch of other lovers
and an ex-wife
he still lived with
and still something was missing
*
One of my friends
in a private message on the social network
vKontakte
on 18th february 2018
sent me a quote from a recent
news article from one “undesirable” media:
‘The pastoral experience of working with people who have a homosexual orientation shows that in many cases a person can either completely get rid of it, or arrange his life in such a way that it does not prevent them from being a fully fledged family man,’ said the metropolitan bishop
and attached a link,
though it wasn't necessary —
i had already seen this mind-blowing piece
and already experienced a complex range of emotions concerning
but still it was nice
to once again confirm
that we share the same perception and attitude
“we've met those family men”
one of my friends added with a sneer
just in case
I saved the link
but it doesn’t lead anywhere anymore
*
One of my friends
(who was what i’d call more than just a friend)
hardly dealt with his own life at all
and didn't even think about it
or about camouflage
or social norms
or personal happiness and well-being
i mean
eventually
as the older generation say
he stepped out of the window
i heard about it from one of my friends
on the same social network
vkontakte
because it all happened
one thousand seven hundred eighty-two and seven tenths kilometres away from me
"such a shame —
i replied —
but it was heading that way
don't tell me you were surprised "
because due to the distance i had nothing more to say
and it wasn't really about me anymore
(not my business not my worries not my life)
but i thought
a shame but really
did no one expect it
a shame but really
our ranks are thinning
a shame but really
there are plenty of ways to survive
but we want to live
we all crave clarity and courage
the ability to unashamedly hold our heads high and look everyone in the eye
we thirst for freedom and happiness
and of course love
like a drought-stricken tree
yearns for rain
like water
in the lower layers of the atmosphere
strives for the earth
like record-breaking sunflowers
striving for the sun
reach four and a half metres
in height
i mean
living the lie
half-heartedly
without mutual attachments
without worries and without ease
is impossible
i mean
to survive is not enough
to live!
Written 05/03/2018
First published in the book “and here’s about tenderness” in 2020
Edited 04/06/2024
INKTOBER 22
In October 2022, while in Kazakhstan, I joined the Inktober challenge announced on social media – writing one poetic text each day on a given topic. Ten of those texts were published in the anti-war issue of the Israeli magazine DVOETOCHIE.
October 1st. War
somewhere far far away
fire burns so far away
that it cannot be seen nor felt its warmth
so bright
that its blaze illuminates every face
here
the wind howls and snatches hats from heads
this same wind or another drops people to the ground
like withered leaves
lifts them from the ground and carries them
upward in a spiral
opens eyes and faces
bares hearts releases
from the ribcage
it might be carrying towards the sky
it might be hurling to the horizon
never again never again
not in a million years
it will touch everyone
the figure of silence forbidden in polite society
fiery water watery fire
comfortable retirement carefree youth
painful numbness pleasant pain
meaningless actions important words
white pr mindless slander
poor in spirit rich in heart
good person bad person
our quiet american in havana
everyone will be blown away by the wind
everyone will be lit up by the fire
October 9th. Censorship
there are words
that cannot be said
remembered or written
because they mean something bad
for example
a word starting with a d
if you say it – it might come into your home
and your family will get smaller
a word starting with a w
if you say it – it will invade your mind
and shatter it like a house demolished by the w
there are other words
their number is great
and none can be said
remembered or written
or else they might come
and stay with you forever
i'll take the risk
hope
love
freedom
joy
there are words and their number is great
October 10th. Solidarity
when you receive
glad tidings
you might cry
laugh
freeze for a while
smile
get a surge of strength and feel ready to move mountains
be inspired and hug strangers
say thanks and start a new life
when i was thirty-two
and accidentally came out
my brother called me and said
"I'm proud of you you're great"
it seemed like nothing changed
the laws were the same
physical safety didn't increase
personal life didn't get better
but I felt like holding someone's hand
and saying while looking them into the eye
"i'm with you
i see you
i'm proud of you
what you do matters
and will help someone"
aren't those glad tidings?
shout them from the rooftops