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Posts tagged ‘poetry’

It's so sweet at home to cling
To the brightest, deepest thoughts,
Sense abstracted joys life brought
When you've got some food and drink.

May the folks below tread somewhere
In a hurry, lots of them:
Faceless weekdays, once again.
Folks swarm fast from dawn till sunset.

How I lurve to view this grandness
From my window, glance below.
Corner boots wait till I go.
I'll obey my lot with gladness.

Overtopping for a moment,
I abandon fuss and crowds:
Hours and days to plan my routes,
I reap heaps from this postponement.

I may be too weak or grumpy,
Need relaxing, whacked by swerves.
I'll atone misdeeds to nerves:
Roads I walked on, wild and bumpy.

May I pause and seize the day,
Spend grand time within four walls?
Here, my childhood I'll recall,
Being a needle in the hay.

Then I'll tread steep rocks with speed,
Leave my yard, won't ask for permits,
Not a monk and not a hermit,
Just a tired man on the street.

Dmitriy Belyanin, 2022

Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die.

Clare Harner, The Gypsy, December 1934

Rovina Cai




Simple symbols seize new space
On the monitor of mine.
A new phase of life I face.
Seas of words surround my mind:
Lots of letters, dark as coal,
Small like atoms, on a page,
Small are steps towards a goal.
It will take another age
To create a tale of sense;
And the tail of my past,
Which once made my life too tense,
Having passed, is light at last.
Days of writing lost their looks -
Bits of sands, and now a lens
I must use to read my book,
Since the writing is too dense,
Since my weary eyes are weak,
Like my memories of youth,
Others’ help I have to seek
Just to magnify the truth
Of the days I’ve spent in writing
When my health still held aloof:
When my mind still was mighty,
I could climb any roof.

Dmitry Belyanin, 2015

Entering a room of magic monsters,
Feeling I’m becoming but a mouse,
Wishing that my head, so full of nonsense
Can get over all of this tough stuff.

I can’t Zoom into computer puzzles.
Truly, our time is like a flash.
I feel like a dog that wears a muzzle
And my thoughts and feelings always clash.

I have opened Windows, wide and vile,
Very soon, I’m gonna want to sneeze!
How I wish that I would save all files:
My poor nerves need solitude and peace.

My computer’s locked, but I don’t know,
How to get in, through what kind of keys,
As I’d skipped my lessons! Work is slow.
Shows by Opera make my heart freeze.

These dull sites will push me to my Edge.
I cannot excel in tough Excel.
And my muscles now deserve a stretch
As my woes are macros. Problems swell.

Do I need a tablet for my head
Or a tablet that’s a good PC?
Or should I have earlier gone to bed?
I can only bet. I need to see.

Well, I’m good at Word, but still, no word
Can describe my journey to success.
I can’t fly to it. I’m not a bird,
And at home, I do not have Access.

Yet this day had passed, as if a bug
Had invaded outdated programs,
And the teacher’s shoulders had to shrug,
When she saw the answers to my problems.

© Dmitriy Belyanin, 2018.

I want to introduce you our new author – Dmitry Belyanin. Dmitry kindly agreed to post his poems in English to libertyinfinity.com. He not only writes poetry but also translates poems of classical Russian poets to English. He was born in Almaty, Kazakhstan in 1986. Dmitry has been writing poems since childhood. He had also created compiled (mostly classical music) videos, reviews of books (fiction and books devoted to social sciences) and content that peacefully promotes Kazakh, the state language of his home country, in Kazakhstan. Dmitry runs the TikTok channel @dmitriy.bm, YouTube channels Dmitriy BM and Theory Digest, Instagram pages @dmitriybm_theorydigest and @belyanind_econ_kz and the Vkontakte group “Канал Dmitriy BM и прочее от Дмитрия Белянина.”

I’ll dump specs of dust from my house:
My chaos shall cater a mouse.
I’ll sweep sour vexation from sight
To sleep with relief when it's night.

I’d lost trucks of childhood days,
Swift seconds, wee diamonds, a haze
Of happiness visiting me,
In place, torment came, seized some glee.

Lost dark, hollow zones from my brain:
I made my life plain, leaving pain.
Wouldn’t see when I’d lose, when I’d win,
But I’d clasp my fragrant tailwind.

Left battles, and clashes, and friendships, and foes,
And can new years bring next sweet rhymes or dry prose?
Once sunlight dictates nights a pause,
For stars I seek, sensing a loss.
.
While I seem from some sides a loser,
To fusses may I tie strings looser.

© Dmitriy Belyanin, 2020
poetry tattoo
radio on
rose in dew