maria.karamatova
Jul 8

Graduation Poems (03.07 - 05.07)

0 comments

Edited: Jul 8

 

 

Spaces of Love

 

1

 

Equipped with a space suit

(Imagined immunity)

I dive into vast airy planets of yours.

 

We meet, fingers crossed,

Spiral vectors untwined,

Your chronicles getting entangled with mine.

 

Projecting our nebulous

Days turned to lore,

Our act of creation

For all to observe, imitate and restore.

(Oh, well, with some honestly tiny exception,

A passionate splurge I would never divulge.)

 

It’s dawdling sometimes

But it’s probably worth it -

I'll make you immortal,

You got close enough.

 

A last silent witness

Recording existence.

 

Voidwalker

Exploring

The Spaces

Of Love.

 

2

 

Remove all your carpets

Before you invite me.

I got used to falling

On cold and hard floors.

 

I'm not good at cleaning,

I'm not good at sailing

Through murky mixed signals

And other mixed things.

 

I got good at flying

Those spaceships of yellow

Through last nights deleted,

Though black holes (hearts) to home.

 

(You removed all safety nets, your defenses, your secrets, the space between our lips, so why don't you remove your fucking carpets, how about that?)

 

Remove all your carpets

Before you invite me.

I got used to falling

On cold and hard floors.

 

Can't get so much worse,

Can't hurt so much more,

I've fallen

For you

After all.

 

3

 

A memory,

A fleeting moment,

A clingy pestering creature

Crawled from the ocean so long ago.

 

So, let’s rehash

The same old story,

Let’s pull again

The same old tail.

(Did it always have a tail?)

 

So, let’s rewash

The same old tale

(It still loves salty water, apparently)

Till the coasts of left and right hemispheres

Get washed away…

 

4

 

All poets are liars.

All lovers are addicts.

And lips, tongues and teeth -

They are all precious coins.

 

For buying some freedom,

Connections, confessions,

For getting a fix...

And for an overdose.

 

5

 

This expedition was not fruitless.

We found something that allows us

To tamper with existing laws,

To twist, distort and to transform

And still remain alive and whole.

 

It’s poetry - The only way

To get away

With anything.

 

6

 

I’m stuck and I’m drained, and I’m chocked with frustration.

My head’s cycle setting is permanent press.

My brain getting squeezed by a hopeless intention -

Producing six poems in only four days.

 

Those empty white pages, they mockingly track me.

I’m stumbling in deadlines and dragging through dread.

Those muses no longer can find me attractive

And words are refusing to join me in bed.

 

I can’t recognize lines popped up with endeavor -

They look and they sound not like me at all.

I let them run free, all those cords must be severed,

I’d likely do my worst and gladly be done.

 

***

 

Whatever it is, dear destiny, bring it,

But make me inspired and make me complete.

My fingers are striking an end and beginning,

I frame and present all this meaningless s***

 

:D :D :D

 

#rantover

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  • Daniel Blagoev
    Jul 15

    Graduation event poem and 3 others

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  • Miloslava
    Jul 11

    graduation

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  • Йоана Стоянова
    Jul 9

    ciao, graduation poems:)

    out the carnivores of my mother's womb sharpened their wisdom long before i was born i need to smell their bright tracks back and call myself out of my mother's womb * * * the pear fell away from its motherly branches wild seed of a fruitful era to come obsession toolbox i quit my nostrils delegate my underwear to the chimney-sweeper shed my eyelashes click the belly button to undress yet another underwater costume unfit exhale self-sacrifice is an outdated myth too long too used to hang on the dots of someone else's unfinished sentence * * * swift lizards running amok through the folds of the night foam through the horizontal frame of a borrowed sea gaze remind me: i have the map i need to follow the aftertaste of short explosions in the eyelids of long-departed ships body wit a blindfolded captain blames the unreliable ship that could bear just the treasures that are kept from its sight this dream keeps repeating and when the trousers of day unzip their messy cocktails i remember - my body’s the vessel i’m trying to blame

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