Ulysses

I look at you.
I smell a rat.

Your familiar coo
And your skin is matt.
Hallelujah is in your voice
And this smell is my biggest hardship.

It looks like I have no choice.
I again stand on this airstrip.

I look at you.
I smell a rat.

My thoughts are a clew.
Bryan Adams sings… Drat!
It’s time to pay my invoice.
It’s time to break this grip.

Love loves to love love.
Do you love Joyce?
I see how you’re touching your lip…

I look at you.
You smell like a rat!

All this makes me spew.
I take up my gat.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

I don’t know

I don’t know
I exist or no.
All my senses turned into white ash.
Many years ago
I refused this show,
Threw away my passions like unneeded trash.

I smashed up all mirrors,
I killed viewers and hearers,
I put my gun under my head instead of cozy pillows.

I don’t know
I’m alive or no.
All my cells encrusted with sediment and rust.
I didn’t mark a foe,
I didn’t forecast a blow.
And now I disremembered about the notion of ‘trust’.

I smashed up all mirrors,
I killed viewers and hearers,
I put my gun under my head instead of cozy pillows.

…When I inhale this purple mist
Dead senses start to dance a twist
And I’m ready to stop my run
And hide my gun.
But zombies here. I hear a snigger.
I must exhale. And pull the trigger

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

…adrenaline runs low

cur doesn’t flow through torn wire.
my veins are cold. I lost my fire.
and throbbing love in slow gyre
descends to bottom. descends to nothing.
this cruel game without rules.
I count my uneven pulse.
I just become a needless plaything
just trash

(a chorus)
adrenaline runs low – and heart is dying
and squirming in convulsions in my chest
adrenaline runs low – and sun is crying
and darkness comes to my heart like a guest

I cannot stop this nightly show.
a gutless puppet squirms in throe.
dread voice gives orders calm and slow
so phony. so truly.
incisive waves destroy my space
and heavy fogs erase my face.
I make a last stroke. I make a last sigh. so coolly…

(a chorus)
adrenaline runs low – and heart is dying
and squirming in convulsions in my chest
adrenaline runs low – and sun is crying
and darkness comes to my heart like a guest

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014