Poem about birthday Why do we celebrate every birthday? Maybe we should just celebrate first. But we celebrate every next one. Celebrating being older. Are we celebrating that various health problems await us over the years? Are we celebrating that we will soon have to call for help to get up from the armchair? I am confused. I don't know if I should celebrate my next birthday. It's nice to celebrate. I love celebrations! But celebrations for no reason. That's how we should…
Poem about bottom I'm sinking. I sink deeper and deeper. I only see the abyss. I have the impression that I am going through all the earth's crust. I can't wait to hit. To know it's over. I imagine a bang. It echoes in my head. But I can't fall. No way to hear that bang. It's like an eternity. I have touched the bottom of my life. I wonder if it's hell. It shouldn't be. They say I'm not a bad person. As soon as others say that, I believe it is so. I expect to wake up. But…
Poem about scent Hundreds of different brands are on the shelf. They cost hundreds of dollars. You don't know which one to choose. You try three and then they all smell the same. The seller offers the latest. When they see that they can't convince you, then they offer you cheap and so on. I’m crazy when I get out of the perfumery. The most beautiful perfumes cost nothing. There are no sellers to convince you which one to buy. There is no doubt which one to buy because they…
Poem about wind It's blowing, it's cold! It doesn't help a raincoat, a hat, a scarf, it's strong! It is so strong that the whole ship is rocking! Hardworking fishermen work. They stand on a rocking ship as if they are attached. On land it's different. Bunkers are being built. A few floors underground. Tons and tons of concrete and iron. They report that a strong wind is coming. Everyone is in a panic. Everyone manages to keep their head alive. Silence... The sun is slowly…
Poem about drunk He walks alone. He thinks alone. He cries alone. He lives alone. He laughs alone. He drinks alone. He got drunk just because of that "alone". He was not born as a drunk. He became a drunk. He became because he was left alone. And he stayed drunk because he had to do everything himself. Everyone bypasses him. Nobody should ask him why that is so. He doesn't even ask for it. He always says he's not alone. He says he has a friend who warms him up in the winter,…
Poem about an old violin It is retired. They say it took its own. I would not agree with that. It's still a real lady. Always well-groomed. It can still do everything. Always in the right place. At the right time. It can laugh. It also knows how to cry. When you hear it, you always stop. It can do it easily and quickly. It can be quiet but also loud when needed. If it could write a book, there would be different stories. Life, business, and love stories. It can cost a…
Poem about having everything and nothing Everything is easy when you can see with your own eyes. And very difficult if someone has to guide you or use a stick. Everything is easy when you can hear with your ears. And very difficult if you have to wear a hearing aid, so you step up, and you shut up. Everything is easy when you can touch things with your hands. And very difficult if you have to have an artificial hook instead of an arm. Everything is easy when you can walk on…
Poem about "what if" What if icicles fall from the roof on my head? What if a pot of flowers falls from the third floor right on me? What if lightning strikes just as I cross the bridge? What if a shark hunts right now when I'm in the water? What if the storm starts just when I'm sailing? What if the volcano activates just as I climb to conquer the summit? What if someone drunk drives a car and hits me? What if my numbers come out and I didn't pay the lottery? What if I go…
Poem about a poem Dim light in the room. Two candles burning above the piano. Cigarette smoke leaves traces in the air above the candles. You can hear the candle burning and you can hear the pencil on the paper. A diligent hand writes and erases. The piano is cluttered with papers. Nobody manages. Nobody knows what the first page is, and which is the last one. Only he knows. He knows exactly where he left off and what he needs next. Inspiration is coming. He plays the first…
Poem about bottle It stands on the shelf and asks for nothing. Even if you don't wipe it for a year, nothing again. It's just doing its job. It carefully guards what you have entrusted to it. In one basement, one man... He has been taking care of them for years. He dedicate himself to each at least once a month. Take, wipe, check and put back in place. He says they keep his treasure. A treasure of grapes, a treasure of the finest taste. There are also a lot of them on the…
Poem about an ace up one's sleeve How does it know when to show up? How does it know when to be up one's sleeve? How did it get there, up one's sleeve? Why an ace and not a deuce? It started one evening. At the round table, with six chairs, six whiskey glasses, and two decks of cards. A long game was played. With a big stake. And he was losing. Losing and losing. They wrote about him in all the newspapers. About the fraudster. But they have never discovered him. He was…
Poem about some hardworking people It's 4 in the morning. He is quiet, so as not to wake up his family. He puts on his uniform and moves on. Along the way, he joins his colleagues and continues together with laughter and talk. A broom and a garbage can are waiting for them in the same place as yesterday. They diligently clean every part of the street. They have been collecting garbage since last night because someone threw garbage in the middle of the park. If you saw them,…
Poem about magic lamp You see me. You do not see me. I am the Genie from the magic lamp. You have the right to imagine three wishes. And you have no right to correct a wish. There is no harder task. Probably every other person would like to be rich. You get rich and what's next? You have everything and then nothing is interesting to you anymore. That is why young people who have everything, quickly indulge in vices. My first wish would be to destroy all the money in this…
Poem about life and death The saying goes that one must die and be born. I agree that this is the only thing you have to do in life. The saying goes that whoever is born must also die. Do we really die when we die? I don't think so. I don't believe there is another life. Life after death. I'm not talking about it. I believe that one can live after death. We live through our deeds. Someone built, make, create. They leave the built deeds behind through which they still live.…
Poem about bills I've been paying bills since I was born. Baby diaper bills. Milk bills. Then the kindergarten bills. Bills for one school. Bills for another school. Faculty bills. Then you pay the bills to the boss. Pay the bills to the director. You just think that's it, then you pay bills to your wife. Pay the pedicure bill. Then for a manicure. Massage bill. Just bills. Then pay the bills to the kids. Swimming bills. Dance bills. All life bills. You just think there are…
Poem about the coming winter It was like yesterday. And I was very young. I was scared. I was afraid of that 2022. Out of fear, I imagined. I imagined I would be old then. Well, it won't matter much, if the end of the world happens. That 2022 came and I'm not old. I am in my best years. 🙂 And the end of the world did not happen. Or it happens. And we live in ignorance. Maybe covid is the end of the world. Maybe global warming is the end of the world. Maybe this Monkeypox…
Poem about fire It is spreading with incredible speed. It is dangerous when it catches a run. So dangerous that sometimes entire cities are evacuated. Even the strongest are afraid of it. Its angry enemy is water. And water is dangerous, they say it always finds its way and breaks through when floods start. It is not known what is stronger. We can't do without them. That's why they say there is no game with them. And they are necessary. If you have them, you can survive…
Poem about desert island Alone. Separated from the world. Separated from everything. Is it sad? Does it ever need company? Who does it complain about when there is no rain? Who does it complain about when it's too hot? No, it is great. It's not bad to be alone. Not bad to be unique. Not bad because it's not deserted. If there are no people, it does not mean that it is desert. It has so many beautiful, tall canopies, which flutter proudly. There are so many singers who fly in…
Poem about thunderstorm There will be no thunder in the nettles. They say but they are not sure. They think thunder is afraid of nettles. How can they not understand? Thunder is not a living being. There is no thunderstorm to the enemy to shoot and set them on fire. It is a natural phenomenon. We are the culprits, nature is just defending itself. If we were to preserve nature, nature would not defend itself. They talk, they compare. They also came up with a saying "like a…
Poem about vortex Seas, lakes, rivers. Sea salt water. Lakes and mountain air. The most beautiful winding rivers. Sounds fantastic. Sounds irresistible. Until you find vultures. I call them that. Metal vultures. A big barge on the clean, the cleanest river. They dig and dig, they look for gold. They frighten the aquatic world, they spoil their habitat. Behind them, when they dig everything up, they leave holes. Why is it in human nature to spoil everything? On the shore…
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