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Поэзия - - Poetry in English

Проза и поэзия >> Проза 90-х годов >> Малахов, Олег >> Поэзия
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Oleg Malakhov. Poetry in English

---------------------------------------------------------------

© Copyright йУЕР хАУАЗЙВ

Email: omalakhov@acceur.com

Date: 03 Dec 2001

---------------------------------------------------------------

x x x


     The kisses from you,

     slippery streets,

     making apple-pies,

     socks on the legs,

     a word in a crowd,

     sex in the kitchen...

     go on...

     naked children...

     what is the reason?

     Results of insomnia...

     (you disappearing...)

     kisses from you left...
1.11.97.
x x x


     break into my soul

     my fault

     it's broken

     so find some place

     inside of me

     to put your image in

     though any way

     the emptiness remains

     & I confess

     I'm incomplete

     without faces I possessed

     the cages which hide pain

     still growing

     meaningless ads

     announcements permeate

     & vanish

     permeate & vanish

     dark corridors remain
6.04.99
x x x

     clubs discotheques

     magicians play their roles

     on festive stages

     getting wages

     not high

     but they don't mind

     it has its charm

     they rent some rooms

     full with some tiny things

     they never lie

     they won't betray

     they have some rules

     & in the clubs

     in bars

     in restaurants

     in crowded places

     with people all disordered

     magicians play their roles

     present unknown tricks

     & see our happy faces

     & all they want

     is early morning

     clubs discotheques

     so fairy world

     the age of gold

     so magic time

     for songs

     for love

     for hate

     for feelings

     mutual screams

     inner cries

     magicians play their roles

     they see it all

     & definitely want

     some more spectators

     for the show

     & drinking wine

     some beer

     or something else

     some girls

     & boys

     can easily

     turn into phantoms

     illusive pictures

     save the world

     so precious world

     magicians look so strange

     they lost the audience

     they feel all left alone

     my friends become unreal

     my eyes reflect tears

     they no longer recognize light

     no blinks

     no flashes

     ashes

     by Oleg Malakhov 26-27.12.97
x x x

     few insects

     on the pavement

     results of inner world reflection

     mutation of the mind

     no meaning

     only over-whelming

     system of regulation

     checking up intensity

     of hand-shakes

     taste of kisses

     the pain degree

     while separation

     .....................

     soldiers

     bombs

     mankind counting

     seconds...


     by Oleg Malakhov.

     6.04.99.
x x x

     reorganise me till complete complain

     with oaring devil's name while having bright discussion to somebody

     claim my waiver till the end of everything

     of personification

     grab ideas running wild through poetry in boots of extra large

     glance memorising someone else with eyes of no conformity and playing character

     god buys in tropical embraces

     some decorations gone in vain no less so temporary needed

     to note conclusion in her kiss under her open waves of eyebrows recall between the sense and matrimony

     lock of condition lack of luck and look of light lit misery of love
x x x

     lease me in intro

     true

     nuisance I am in ad

     amine aid

     amen

     men

     end
24.04.01
x x x

     riding riding riding

     through Europe

     gothic plastic

     fairy- tales

     models

     staring

     making pictures

     sleeping

     roads become senseful

     and we become sensitive

     roads

     attractive lines

     of our broken lives

     cities countries

     wonders

     parties all over Europe

     hope

     what if you find

     the unity

     a backbone of civilization

     minutes of madness

     illusion of wholeness

     by Oleg Malakhov (Feb. 1998)
x x x

     She ensouls me

     while I'm staying at the airport

     falling into stories after all

     she's away

     apart from words of mine,

     annoying tenderness,

     so memorable then...

     No miserable pleads

     no teasing

     no waiting syndromes

     no thoughts of jealousy...

     but who would care

     who would hug me

     night long

     since her calm movements

     (there's no me)

     and her plain beauty

     (torn in me)

     are in a jet

     flying away

     leaving

     deformity

     instead.

     by Oleg Malakhov (Feb. 1999)

     The First Kiss

     by Oleg Malakhov

     So you think it's easy

     I thought it was

     I tried just to get closer

     Then everything was like I'm drunk

     Like I'm completely lost

     First kiss

     The memories I have are poor

     But still I can recall

     It was a girl.


     A Friend of Rain

     by Oleg Malakhov

     I'm a friend of Rain

     When it comes

     I close my eyes

     but anyway I see it

     and if I try to escape

     to find the place

     where the sun lives

     the walls of Rain

     surround me

     They love me

     These invisible drops

     of cloudy tears

     And if I died and turned into Rain

     I'd find no one to call him

     A Friend.
x x x

     Think of me sometimes.

     It's pleasant to know

     that someone minks of you

     sometimes, one minute a day,

     one minute a week or month

     or even a year.

     Think of me...

     And if it's rainy and windy

     you are sure to find me

     somewhere in the city

     looking for something

     looking for nothing

     thinking of you

     every minute

     hoping that you

     still remember my name.

     by Oleg Malakhov


     Oleg Malakhov
x x x

     peaceful morning

     lights over departed city

     few biological units

     under the skies starting to rain

     within the wind of coming autumn

     the kiss of emptiness

     the lost desire

     the meaningless and senseless

     operations
26.08.99
x x x

     can you feel the pulses from the pay-phone

     the protection of my voice

     my eyes

     don't see you waving through

     the study room to the window

     of your childhood memory

     stepping on the worn-out toys

     and days are of no value

     in the place

     abundant with the stupid duties

     where I am

     commencing projects

     training tests for personnel

     presenting warranties

     and having great desire

     to break it up

     untying tie

     unbuttoning my pants

     and fully giving up

     to act of showing nature

     and feeling pulses of your dear vein

     on the right side of your delicious neck
x x x

     your looks go

     since tears flow

     under the red sun

     under the moon

     I lost your infinity

     powerful time

     adds some more

     powder to your face

     there is illusion in me

     that I still feel

     permanent taste of your lips

     September, 1999
ALL MY DREAMS


     by Oleg Malakhov


     All my dreams

     Are in Norway

     I start painting

     Red roses

     All the painters

     Paint roses

     They can smell

     Their own roses

     All the poets

     Write poems

     They can feel

     Their own poems

     But my dreams

     Are in Norway

     I start watching

     The clouds

     All the dreamers

     See clouds

     They can reach

     Their own clouds

     They can speak

     To the clouds

     Their way

     Is to Norway

     I will beg

     All these clouds

     Just to take me

     With them.
x x x

     I am a little monkey

     I have a little key

     I can unlock my window

     I can be free

     I am a little parrot

     I can repeat your words

     Don't say so many words

     So many words

     I am a little rabbit

     I have a little bell

     It sounds like a rain-drop

     drip drip drip


     by Oleg Malakhov


     **

     dust memory sensing sailing straws of bamboo flow in toes of middle autumn

     crazy we all

     astonished

     fabulous dreams are harrowing furore hidden in glances beneath voluptuousness inhale

     addressing to boys an girls with colourless mud on hearts ingrained

     and transparent minds lots for behind-leaving-behind


     strayed


     initiation tissue in sitting system of insane tins

     so lucky light installed with stain material and rings memorials splashed all around the flaming figures

     recording voices any click in this community is stressed

     strange how it is


     **

     me (why is it first) indeed

     even the evening evidence is vague voting in vacuum vastness of void

     me in vain

     ..

     Moscow,

     Sentiments over the backyards outside the business activities

     14.11.2001


     volatile i draw you
15.11.2001


     flying laying love

     beneath above
15.11.2001


     by Oleg Malakhov

     October, 2001

    

... ... ...
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