letters (I let myself to rest!)

my swords… my wounds…
my slowly bleeding life.

the last drop of rain
trapped in the spider net.
the thunder resonates
and scatters in the distant echoes.
the rainbow drinks my tears

o blessed emptiness!

wind rustles through the wheat
and settles by my feet.

barefooted spirits of the plains,
my long forgotten friends,
kneels
by the puddle of me.

I let myself to rest!

letters (it's raining)

it’s raining
the wind, drenched in rain, quietly passing by.
the memories have no time
to develop into the images on running water,
blurred by the flow.
drain swallows the remnants
drags them underground like a hungry beast
keeping memories imprisoned, intact
not alive and not entirely dead
just to devour them later in the privacy of the grave.
pile of skeletons in the corner of the cave,
archeological riddle, histories of past events
none of which was powerful enough
to make the history, terminate the flow,
break the cycle, to overrun the rain.
it’s raining. I let it rain!

fragments (misinterpreted)

long scarves color of sapphire left behind
salamanders crawl through the portals:
touched by light …combusted
turned into ashes, blown by wind.

cold watery eyes silent witnesses
lost in fields.
rising sun dries tears of the night.
steam flows through the pores of my skin:
rises, evaporates…

the roots absorb one last drop of moisture.
the flowers, innocent,
sinfully celebrate my pain
and the truth, seeds of new beginnings,
blissfully rest in darkness.

fragments (the show is over)

the show is over
and circus left the town.
a fortuneteller with the crystal ball:
rituals, stones, smoke in the sky.
deranged clown,
no friends, no enemies.
an extended family of pompous acrobats,
skeletons locked in a closet.

the rain erases footsteps and settles dust on the road.
a foggy dusk rolls from the gapping mouth of the abyss….

fragments (the fortuneteller 2nd version)

the fortuneteller
was a fake-blond, near-sighted,
next-door-neighbor-kind of woman.
she began her reading from the Sun.
she mentioned that it was her favorite card.
“I am glad it’s not the Fool”.
she looked in my direction
and I guessed that, in my case,
it should be the Fool.
there was not much of a choice.
the Hanging Man upside down
was not an alternative but a progression.
she professed much light in my life,
stumbled over betrayals, hardships and loss.
I did not tell her,
that hell is quite a bright place

fragments (morning 2nd version)

the lonely cricket (no chorus there, just one annoying solo)
trophy of the night, plastered over my window,
was scraping its body off the glass.

yellow roundness bulged at the edge of the earth,
ready to break umbilicus, bud off,
surf the blue waters.

silent and feeble shadows of the night
were retreating into the dark corners of my room
crawling under the bed, last sanctuary,
rest in the coffin.

the morning, shifting sands within a sliver of time,
was invading my blood grain by grain,
dissolving into iron saltiness.
extra kick trough my heart
dip and swell trough my vocal cord.
words roll on the tip of my tongue.
“good morning!”

letters (morning)

the lonely cricket
scrapes
silent fabrics of the night
from my window.

sun bleeds
into the broken horizon.

wounded night
retreats
into the dark corners of my room.

morning sifts like a sand dune
from the horizon of darkness
into the horizon of light.

the new day invades
my blood stream

tender vibration
dips and swells
through the hollowness
of my vocal cord.

morning rains
with words
from my fingertips.

fragments (spells)

spells
of your fingers
sprinkle my skin
as words,
as droplets of blood.
…sticky red stripes,
cold vipers slide down,
rains on my toes.

I keep you silent
when I am awake.
I let you whisper
my dreams into my hair
when I sleep.

an animal chews my flesh,
in the dark,
when you’re gone..©

Author: Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments (time, my enemy)

fragments (I am tired)

letters

rains…
imitation of the sound
of my blood flow,
filling still empty grave.

the future,
I saw,
was suspended into zero temperature and gravity.
umbilically attached to darkness.

desperately
I was leaning on the past,
I had known,
anything real enough to support my weight,
while my feelings were summoned
by the coffin of my body.

fragments

Thinking of a real death of our species, becoming part of the planet, reborn into different life form…

in your deadly embrace
I surrender.
…attracted, dissolved,
filtrated,
run underground….

reborn and surfaced
in the cold creek
in the middle of night.
naked… silver
in the light
of the local moon
carelessly suspended
in its fullness
from the dark corner
of sky…

drops of water…
wet trail left behind…
I run through the field,
no horizon…
cold grass,
gift of the spring.
heal soles of my feet,
from the journey
through the minerals…