Un homme déserté

A few essays, thoughts, and bad haiku I come up with when my imagination is enhanced by nature.
Aug 23
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*Cat haiku*

You never feed me.
Perhaps I’ll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.

You must scratch me there!
Yes, above my tail!
Behold, elevator butt.

The rule for today:
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.

In deep sleep hear sound
cat vomit hairball somewhere
will find in morning.

Grace personified.
I leap into the window.
I meant to do that.

Blur of motion, then —
silence, me, a paper bag.
What is so funny?

The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds —
your foot just squashed one.

You’re always typing.
Well, let’s see you ignore my
sitting on your hands.

My small cardboard box.
You cannot see me if I
can just hide my head.

Terrible battle.
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What’s a ‘term paper?’

Small brave carnivores
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes,
Fear vacuum cleaner

I want to be close
to you. Can I fit my head
inside your armpit?

Wanna go outside.
Oh, poop! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!

Oh no! Big One
has been trapped by newspaper!
Cat to the rescue!

Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in bed, then screams;
My claws are not that sharp.

Aug 13
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Life is not waking up every morning, or simply breathing.
It is seeking and living new experiences every single day.
— D.Q.
Aug 12
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“And they do not love me and if they do love, then it’s not me.

Because you cannot love me selectively.

You cannot love pieces of me.

Because that breaks me.”

— My friend Alena aka Simone de Beauvoir.
Aug 10
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On the mysteries of men and women

Who’s more complicated, someone asked, men or women?

Here’s my reasoning:

For centuries men have spread the concept that no quest in the universe compares to that of attempting to understand the female mind. That no other thing does a man wishes to accomplish more, and that it might just be the reason of their existence!

At the same time, women have intensively amazed themselves at the simplicity and predictability of the male of the species. All while at the same time trying to understand the meanings and intricacy of their actions; creating a sense of common understanding in society that men are simple creatures and women… well women come from Venus.

But in reality I think we have been fooling ourselves like two adversaries pointing a weapon at each other when neither has ammunition and both know it well.

The truth is, we’re all the same. Complicated, complex and confused. Neither of us really knows what we want of ourselves and to be able to ignore the monster in the room, the monster of our own indecision and uncertainty, we fool ourselves looking for answers as to why what we want from us can’t be found in them.

We spend our lifetime looking for the answer to a question we well know doesn’t even exist and if it did would be impossible to answer: what do men and women want?

May 28
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Латы (Laty)

Сердце на месте стоять не хотело
Вырвалось жаждой свободы горя
Сделаны ставки и пущены стрелы
Я дом полны на конце острия
( 2 раза)

Я выковал новые латы, они прочнее прежних.
Они любой неприятельский натиск сдержат.
Новые, свинцовые кастеты в руки,
Пусть только посмеют посмеяться. Суки!
Байки, глазницы, слежение, радары,
Не пустят никого на расстояние удара.
Лязгом гусениц они будут напуганы.
Не пробить броню, броня чугунная.

Шипы остры, опасней прежних
Диверсанту не оставят надежды.
Пусть дрожит земля под триумфальный скрежет
Я сплю лишь иногда, Любовь моя, не оставляй меня.

Иглами пальцы пронзают на пяльцы натянутые холсты.
Время раскачивается в пространстве на скатерти пустоты.

Любовь моя, не оставляй меня…

Сердце на месте стоять не хотело,
Вырвалось жаждой свободы горя.
Сделаны ставки и пущены стрелы,
Я дом полны на конце острия.
(2 раза)

Я не верю в дипломатию, они предатели.
Пытаться договариваться только время тратить
Я отвечу залпом, чтоб медом не казалось,
Чтоб в мыслях им не виделось испытывать мой панцирь
Пусть хоть пикнет кто, но тихо на полмили
Проволока колючая, против танков – мины.
И минуты-годы, а секунды-дни.
Я один в пустыне, любовь моя, не оставляй меня.

Любовь моя, не оставляй меня…

Иглами пальцы пронзают на пяльцы натянутые холсты.
Время раскачивается в пространстве на скатерти пустоты.

Любовь моя, не оставляй меня…

Сердце на месте стоять не хотело,
Вырвалось жаждой свободы горя.
Сделаны ставки и пущены стрелы,
Я дом полны на конце острия.
(2 раза)