Submissions by Natalja (Natalya)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
take me not
passionate thoughts encipher hidden emotions
take me or break me
without words which bring pain to both halves
without promises which will never be delivered
without dreams whose lies deceive both of my lower parts
take me or break me
squeeze my beating heart in your hands
I want it to see the world through your fingers
I want this world to be a split in your hands
only then it will be real, it will be ours
take me or break me
what are all those...
take me or break me
without words which bring pain to both halves
without promises which will never be delivered
without dreams whose lies deceive both of my lower parts
take me or break me
squeeze my beating heart in your hands
I want it to see the world through your fingers
I want this world to be a split in your hands
only then it will be real, it will be ours
take me or break me
what are all those...
205 reads
2 Comments
Fortune teller
Taro cards – show me the lights of his heart
speak to me, open the space for my dreams
nurture my world which spins my soul which steals my youth which blows my mind
and I don’t mind
cards – running spiders that do not bite but build the black picture of your eyes
I am getting stuck in this web; I am being liked by the cobweb of intrigue - hypnotize me
and I would not dare to resist the temptation of your presence
I follow the black silhouette of you – crows despise me, cawing and deafening me...
speak to me, open the space for my dreams
nurture my world which spins my soul which steals my youth which blows my mind
and I don’t mind
cards – running spiders that do not bite but build the black picture of your eyes
I am getting stuck in this web; I am being liked by the cobweb of intrigue - hypnotize me
and I would not dare to resist the temptation of your presence
I follow the black silhouette of you – crows despise me, cawing and deafening me...
144 reads
0 Comments
title
touch me with your fingertips
show me your naked vulnerable hands
I will eat them for breakfast
and paint a red-blooded poem of you on my back.
feed my inner dog, stroke my hair
and make me beg for more.
watch the changing forms of my black shadow
wrapping around your shouting soul
crawling inside of your nightmares
pulling your hunger in -deeper and deeper.
sense the swings of my tricky mood
smell my burning soul, steal it allfromme
and make me beg for more.
show me your naked vulnerable hands
I will eat them for breakfast
and paint a red-blooded poem of you on my back.
feed my inner dog, stroke my hair
and make me beg for more.
watch the changing forms of my black shadow
wrapping around your shouting soul
crawling inside of your nightmares
pulling your hunger in -deeper and deeper.
sense the swings of my tricky mood
smell my burning soul, steal it allfromme
and make me beg for more.
220 reads
2 Comments
friends forever
was it all a dream
a stupid childish dream which made my bed sheets wet
was it a sweet illusion
of us being friends
one night sharing small bed
same day sharing same smell of naive dreamlike mirrors
it was us sitting opposite each other and smiling
it was so real
naked souls proud of their nakedness
colourful threads interlacing
knitting the patterns of the words
knitting the pattern of one world
could i have ever dreamt that all
your friendship free of jealousy and betrayal
our sincere blue eye and a big cherishing smile...
a stupid childish dream which made my bed sheets wet
was it a sweet illusion
of us being friends
one night sharing small bed
same day sharing same smell of naive dreamlike mirrors
it was us sitting opposite each other and smiling
it was so real
naked souls proud of their nakedness
colourful threads interlacing
knitting the patterns of the words
knitting the pattern of one world
could i have ever dreamt that all
your friendship free of jealousy and betrayal
our sincere blue eye and a big cherishing smile...
335 reads
7 Comments
life cycle
me typed in
in my name
and printed off on a library card
plain plastic card is me
me wearing my favourite clothes
accessories, belts
left on the table
watching them from the distance
and realising
they are all – me
me wearing mysterious perfumes
feeling them on others
accepting the smell as a reflection
of me
me picking up the clues of my existence
everywhere I go
from every person I meet
the food I choose
downloaded tunes
numbers on the phone
it’s all either me or reflection of me
it’s all clues of my...
in my name
and printed off on a library card
plain plastic card is me
me wearing my favourite clothes
accessories, belts
left on the table
watching them from the distance
and realising
they are all – me
me wearing mysterious perfumes
feeling them on others
accepting the smell as a reflection
of me
me picking up the clues of my existence
everywhere I go
from every person I meet
the food I choose
downloaded tunes
numbers on the phone
it’s all either me or reflection of me
it’s all clues of my...
284 reads
6 Comments
hidden zone
it covers you up like the wave full of slime
where your thoughts, hands and legs get stuck
it makes you suddenly feel homesick
to long for town where you have been born hating the whole country
it makes your heart wound and unwound with the same dull pain of burning tears
keeping pace with the rhythm of your thoughts
yearning for childhood when everything has been sorted for you
when dinner has been cooked but you have been refusing to eat it most of the times
why no one cooks dinners for you now?
and when it happens – it’s not the same
it is made with...
where your thoughts, hands and legs get stuck
it makes you suddenly feel homesick
to long for town where you have been born hating the whole country
it makes your heart wound and unwound with the same dull pain of burning tears
keeping pace with the rhythm of your thoughts
yearning for childhood when everything has been sorted for you
when dinner has been cooked but you have been refusing to eat it most of the times
why no one cooks dinners for you now?
and when it happens – it’s not the same
it is made with...
283 reads
2 Comments
archetype
people remind me of angels
but someone has stolen their wings
has cut the cord
and thrown them straight into reality
where fallen angels
are blinded not by the sun
but by the polluted steam coming out
of the boiling earth
where colours are created
on the mind stuffing adverts and addictive TV shows
but not in the corners of the richly growing imagination
people remind me of angels
who fail the flying test and never come back to it again
who lock themselves in blocked flats
on ground floor without sunlight
and dream of a free flight...
but someone has stolen their wings
has cut the cord
and thrown them straight into reality
where fallen angels
are blinded not by the sun
but by the polluted steam coming out
of the boiling earth
where colours are created
on the mind stuffing adverts and addictive TV shows
but not in the corners of the richly growing imagination
people remind me of angels
who fail the flying test and never come back to it again
who lock themselves in blocked flats
on ground floor without sunlight
and dream of a free flight...
279 reads
9 Comments
awakening
we were together
trapped in open space
where only playful rays
could tell us about the ticking clock
and change of days and nights
where air was wet
loading our lungs with lack of air
with growing pain
and zero chances for survival
but we were together there
sharing the oxygen
in loud counts of rhythmic breath ins and outs
trying to keep the eyes closed
being scared of drowning in black plain nothingness
being used to dump pain
of not knowing when and how
then
the door was shut behind us
and...
trapped in open space
where only playful rays
could tell us about the ticking clock
and change of days and nights
where air was wet
loading our lungs with lack of air
with growing pain
and zero chances for survival
but we were together there
sharing the oxygen
in loud counts of rhythmic breath ins and outs
trying to keep the eyes closed
being scared of drowning in black plain nothingness
being used to dump pain
of not knowing when and how
then
the door was shut behind us
and...
240 reads
0 Comments
lust
I look at you and see myself
I want to sink into smell of your body and to drown in your eyes
even if I knew how to swim
consume the cover of the body together with the stringy, dry skin
and take delight in finishing your core beating heart off
then I want to meet you accidentally on the streets and rape you
to dress in your T-shirts on the late morning
and drink fresh cup of coffee with the song of your body
I walk on a thin ice being aware of my own inability to swim
but cold water frostily attracts me with your depth and its blueness
I attempt to...
I want to sink into smell of your body and to drown in your eyes
even if I knew how to swim
consume the cover of the body together with the stringy, dry skin
and take delight in finishing your core beating heart off
then I want to meet you accidentally on the streets and rape you
to dress in your T-shirts on the late morning
and drink fresh cup of coffee with the song of your body
I walk on a thin ice being aware of my own inability to swim
but cold water frostily attracts me with your depth and its blueness
I attempt to...
321 reads
6 Comments
hide-and-seek
I grin – and it’s called smile
sun burns me, attacking with straight, yellow rays and round blindly open face
i hide in the shadow – it shelters me
in one room of its hungry hostel
space is filled with spiders tickling my nerves
i laugh – they are funny creatures:
friends, relatives, siblings, parents
let it flow, go, let go
let me fall, down, get hurt
let me phantasize, imagine
be someone i could never be
breathe in pink air – breathe out black
sun burns me, attacking with straight, yellow rays and round blindly open face
i hide in the shadow – it shelters me
in one room of its hungry hostel
space is filled with spiders tickling my nerves
i laugh – they are funny creatures:
friends, relatives, siblings, parents
let it flow, go, let go
let me fall, down, get hurt
let me phantasize, imagine
be someone i could never be
breathe in pink air – breathe out black
236 reads
4 Comments
my poem
how has it happened that i have turned into
stringy, used chewing gum
with sweet childish smell and absence of taste
stretching between three languages
sticking to one of them
t h e n
being squashed by the enormous military boot
being stuck to one sole, watching the other
swinging, switching, stretching
loosing bits of myself without realization
stringy, used chewing gum
with sweet childish smell and absence of taste
stretching between three languages
sticking to one of them
t h e n
being squashed by the enormous military boot
being stuck to one sole, watching the other
swinging, switching, stretching
loosing bits of myself without realization
268 reads
2 Comments
when I risk
I decide to write you a letter
like in old good times
when we talked through prints and shapes of the clouds
when we used to stand shores apart
looking in each other’s eyes
itchy words, perhaps love birds
I can’t rip them off my chest
I used to write you piles of them – making them fly from the top of the roof
now they are neatly hidden in the golden dusted candy box
birds' screaming songs made me think, cogitate ...
like in old good times
when we talked through prints and shapes of the clouds
when we used to stand shores apart
looking in each other’s eyes
itchy words, perhaps love birds
I can’t rip them off my chest
I used to write you piles of them – making them fly from the top of the roof
now they are neatly hidden in the golden dusted candy box
birds' screaming songs made me think, cogitate ...
211 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Natalja (Natalya)