SlavaOn's Poetry

Palestine Solution.

There was a war between Arabs and Israelis
The kind of war that could drag for years

The war for power, the war for land
The war about who controls whose government

The war to prove once and for all
To resolve the very long standing brawl

My God came on strong and your God's in defeat
I will force you to wash my dirty feet

Sorry, fella, you got it all wrong
Do you hear a sound of an unmanned drone?

It has laser-guided bombs and clever guns
Its power is stronger than of fifty imams

We have the biggest f*ing guns
And the nukes that leaves survivors no chance

Hold on, before you have made a big mistake
You put your money on technological stake

Killing people is not a solution
And there is a better resolution

So, stop killing each other just for one moment
And listen, for Christ's sake, to my argument

During the Exodus God promised you land
But he did not mention on what continent

Since you were travelling on foot
It did not allow for a long commute

With no cars and no buses you were destined
To settle the land called Palestine

I know, now this place is a mess
The Arabs became citizens of the second class

Look at the United States, it is a great nation
But fifty years ago they had segregation

Black Panthers – Hamaz. Do you see precedent?
Now they have a black president!

I wrote this poem not for money
I just wanted it to be funny

I am not an Arab, neither am I a Jew
That gives me right to laugh at both of you

It had been said by Abu Ibn Sin
Laughter is the best medicine!
No Trespassing Ii

There was always an unhealthy race
To own and possess the Earthen space
'Divide and Conquer' was the battle cry
Throughout the ages, oh my, oh my

That land grabbing is not a caprice
It is a source of income, the best there is!
Bureaucracy sprang to provide control
Writing invented to prove to all

To create the evidence that so and so
Was here first and has rights to own
I came here earlier, I staked that land!
And I paid some money to the government

I am sorry, people of the planet Earth
That concept applies to a solid turf
In worlds above and in worlds below
There is no property, I want you to know

Just think about it, it would be lame
If Jesus would stake a territorial claim
(Acting on a real estate agent's advice)
On the best place in paradise

That's why I advise you: Please, be aware
When you own so much, you won't stay up there
From that great burden, your soul will frown
It will never rise, far from the ground

Never sing with angels, never get their blessing
Welcome to Hell! But, .. no trespassing!
True Intentions

The science invented a new device
It is called an intention-meter
I just picked one up for myself
From a shelf at Harris Teeter

People are judging other people
Based on what they themselves feel
With about 50% accuracy,
As the experiments would reveal

Even your family can get you wrong,
Mixing intentions with one another
That magic device will surely help:
My dad, my wife and my younger brother

Better than polygraphs from FBI,
Intention-meters won’t let you lie
Details are important, more or less,
But why criminals kill is no longer a guess!

No bluffing in poker,
No made up pretensions
It will show up instantly
All your true intentions

In its final decision
Supreme Court USA
Replaced all judges
With these cheap gadgets

Their good intentions
It did not betray
“If it works, it works”,
They were quoted to say…


FOTCM Member
SlavaOn said:
Another consideration, why I start posting so many of my poems here, is because I am an unpublished poet. If goes offline or decides to remove my poems for some reason (they censored a couple already), there is no publications that would be available to readers after I am gone. Although, I self-published the first 44 poems in the book "44" that could still be purchased online, I wrote over a hundred more afterwards. My poetry may be below the publishers' standards, but it is unique. It tells about the life and experiences of a Russian IT guy who lived long enough on the West to be able to reflect on it in English language. Somehow, between late 2008 and early 2010 my mind was generating poetry as if there was no tomorrow. Then, without any drastic changes on my part, it stopped doing it... I was not able write anything like that ever since, even under the gun :(
It seems that you think that this forum is an archive for your poetry; it is not. If you wish to "archive them" without bogging down the forum, just arrange them in a pdf and reduce the size and attach to a post.
Fair Trade I.

If you have an enemy
That keeps you awake at night
If you tried and lost
That incredibly hopeless fight
Every step of the way
You shall always go uphill
And your luck's running low
So low, that it's almost nil...

I will make you an offer
That will be hard to refuse
I will trade your enemy
For my attraction to booze
I will go back to the ring
In order to fight
If you take glaucoma
To improve my weak eyesight

I will gladly go,
No, run for you uphill
If the spurs were removed
From my so sensitive hills
I will give you a full bucket
Of the best luck
If you only trade your age
For my age... durak*.

*Durak (in Russian) - fool
The Secret Of Soma

There is a place on our planet
That is marked forever with a dragon’s seal
The winged serpent may have departed
Its hidden lair it didn’t reveal

In the furthest corner, in its deepest recess
There lies a secret that I want to access
It is an enigma,
inside a riddle,
covered by mystery so well
That thousands years had already passed, before a shaman broke the spell

When ink was still wet on Rig-Vedas pages
The Gods had known that secret for ages
It was called Soma and the book number nine
Would give you the recipe of this drink divine

You take the ingredients and thoroughly smash
Then filter the juice through a very fine mesh
When stainless steel mesh is hard to find
A shaved ram’s skin will do just fine

That drink alone had the magical power
To keep the Gods at the same young age
How would you like to become great grandfather
And still behave like you’re in teenage

For a piece of a Golden Fleece, Argonauts looked in vain
It was not the “gold” that they wanted, but the residue that it contained
Gilgamesh knew the legend too, but he lost his best friend Enkidu
Then snake interfered and stole the plant, which was the main Soma’s ingredient

In fairy tales a witch tells the hero, where the hidden secret lies
Go nobody knows where, pay its still unknown price
The suitor then,
is spun thrice,
in the direction anti-clockwise
He leaves shaking and swearing, never to follow that stupid advice

I am not a witch and I was not on a quest
When I met a dragon, I invited him as a guest
I wined him and dined him, we parted as friends
And he told me the secret of Soma’s ingredients!
History Of My Deaths.

I died for the first time, when I was seven
An ambulance hit me and I went to heaven

The next 14 days and 14 nights I spent playing for hours
Among wild bagulnik* and saranka** flowers

My skull was cracked open, I was slowly dying
In Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia my mother was crying

Doctor Boris Rachkov had performed trepanation
That ended short my distant vacation

Saved by a piece of bone from a child who was killed
By another speeding automobile

The next time I died I was thirty seven
I didn't go to hell nor did I go to heaven

Shaman from Huautla gave me a potion
To satisfy curiosity and test the devotion

I emptied the drink and closed my eyes
I knew, from that bed I would never arise

I took the last breath, I was so afraid
I asked Olden Gods to come to my aid

Stop useless fighting the message was sent
Relax and enjoy that precious moment

At this very instant, despite my fright
I broke right through to the other side

From my precious body I was so detached -
Like a head of cabbage on a cabbage patch

A plenty of other heads were on the ground
Blissfully unaware of what happens around

A giant of giants, a sight to behold
A mighty Purusha as Rig Vedas foretold

As huge as a mountain of entangled legs and arms
He collected the harvest from his heavenly farms

If artist would try to paint such a sight
He shall splotch his canvas in crimson red and bright white

Purusha brilliant, Sun rays are his breath
Who knows him conquers death

The Lord of immortality sent me back
With a little present that others lack

And just to make sure and add more lifetimes
I went ahead and died a few more times...

============================= ==

*Bagulnik - Rhododendron dauricum
**Saranka - Lilium pilosiusculum
This poem summarizes my hunting for Fenn's treasure chest (TC). The story itself was posted in the "travel" forum: treasure quest for Forrest Fenn's gold

I called the poem "Thrill of The Chase End".


Like many of you I had to replace
Money, women, careers for the thrill of the chase
It became my obsession, as I knew it would,
And I heard him clearly and I listen good

To outwit that old fox
One has to think outside the box
I cracked the clues that were enmeshed
Deep inside a poem, my solves were fresh

I knew that I have only one shot
I thought I connected dot to dot
And, although, the place was some distance away
I rushed like a fool, like a train runaway

I went down the canyon and traced my path
From halted warm waters through the beavers' wrath
Their brown faces fooled me not
They allowed me to connect the next dot

I knew I had to go North,
Up the creek somewhere, for what its worth
It shall lead me where I ought to find blaze
If I've been wise, which was the case

It was there all right, with my marvel gaze
I looked quickly down and uttered a phrase
I said "Open Sesame, reveal the Tee-Cee"
But tarry scant was all I could see

"Don't even touch me", it said: "go away
Let the sleeping porcupines quietly lay
Cacti spindles will pepper you like a rain
You will find the meaning of the word pain

Ha-ha, for that challenge I was prepared
Crowbar I brought and gloves two pairs
"I eat that stuff every day for breakfast
You are just rodents' poop, fermented, compressed

I made my way to the rainbow's end
Someone beat me to it at that moment
Instead of the chest full of gold
I've got a handful of poop very old
(Ark) Okay. Then I was asking at some point about consciousness. And the answer was that I will understand consciousness if I'm able to invert formulation of gravity. But formulation of gravity according to Einstein is based again on space-time, where time is a dimension. So how can I invert something that is wrong from the beginning since it's based on space and time?

A: Replace time with consciousness.
I kept thinking about how consciousness could be fitting in one of the dimensions that we live in. Is it like a mighty river and we like fishes swimming in it and being carried away:

Your heavenly plan is beyond me,
I am leaf in the middle of stream,
Being carried away to the ocean
Through world that’s reflected within...

Or, our little streams of consciousness are blended together to create it:

Did I solve the riddle? Was it my lucky guess?
That we ourselves are a road of happiness!

In the majority of poems, that I wrote, I knew exactly what I was talking about. The poem itself is a road - it can go this way or that way, but in the end it always ends up at the destination that I selected. I even assured the readers in the preface of the 1st and only self published book "44" : "I either felt, imagined, dreamed or took part in the described events". But, there were several poems that came out of (I don't now where) and it was my hand that wrote them, but I do not know what they were talking about. I will share one of the poems here. I have an idea that the consciousness dimension may be not a river at all - it could be expanding in all directions at once. Our little fishie's consciousness could connect or interact with events in our own future without any idea of that happening. The reason I came to this is because yesterday, I may have solved the riddle of this old poem :)

Throughout my life, I tried to act smart
And once, I was driving in a golf cart
With a partner who seemed like a retard
Who was always protected by a bodyguard

I was young and bold, he was old and lame
When he lost in golf, I was challenged again
A game of poker, baccarat, roulette
With a gun to my head, I couldn’t say nyet*

I knew the dice were loaded, from the start
It’s not just the money that were at stake
The old dude wanted to steal my soul
I didn’t have room for a single mistake

Despite the odds I won in his game
He was upping the ante, all the same
Blackjack, 3 cards and finally – craps
Yet, he failed to catch me in his devilish traps

My guardian angel was too strong for him
It defeated the old piranha
He waved to his goons and uttered the words:
Let the man get his money…

* nyet - "no" in Russian
My family.

You called me a vagrant, an old buffoon
But I do not give a flying -flick-
'Cause my mother's name is Fortune
'Cause my father's name is Luck

Though, my efforts led to naught
With Kachina I had to ghost-dance
Since my brother's name is Lot
Since my sister's name is Chance

Now, watch my hands, I am a charmer
On zero I placed my only bet
After all my aunty's name is Karma
After all my uncle's name is Kismet

I'm crossing a chasm on a tightrope
A wraith is standing in my path
Yet my daughter's name is Hope
Yet my son's name is Faith

From ear to ear I am grinning
The Grim Reaper will have to wait
For my wife's name is Destiny
For my lover's name is Fate
A fool from Istanbul.

One fool from Istambul
For big babló
Sold Ukrainian Church
To oligarch Petró

He was assisted
By archpriests-protoierei
One came from Canada
Another - from the U.S.A.

A lucky dude
Who benefited from that
Was anathema'ed
Patriarch Filaret

The little problem
That couldn't be fixed
Religion and money
Don't like to be mixed

Such blatant, shameless,
Egregious abuse...
They cooked their own
Fat & juicy goose

I really hope
There will be the purge
Throughout the Orthodox
Christian church

I wish Jesus Christ
Would come unannounced
And throw money changers
From His House

babló = money (Russian slang)
big babló = $25,000,000
I am not totally sure what specifically caused me to write the following verse...


Aaah, we are so proud
Vainglorious bastards
Arrogant, prideful and snotty
Totally missed on a storm cloud...

A simple logic rules it all
There's nothing random in our world
Mind rules over matter, to think otherwise
Is the reason we'll fall

And now we are fallen...

We are weak as kittens
No wings to fly,
That's why we are crawling
We want so much, but we know dickens

The more impotent, the deeper we falling
Did we fail ourselves?
Who are we fooling? We aren't innocent elves
For the wealth we are drooling.

And now we are trolls...

We pillage and plunder
The Earth we're despoiling
It's not a public toilet
That's a huge blunder

We are the cancer
Purge us Earth mother,
Give another birth
It could be your answer

And now we are gone...
Thank you @BlackCartouche
Here is a new one. Can you guess which author/book influenced it?

Ghost in a shell
She felt like a ghost in a broken shell
Lost on her way to the paradise
She had to use the sense of smell
To follow the scent of her sacrifice

Was it an ordor of an unborn child?
What says things smell a certain way?
Ghosts have memories running wild
Like hungry piranhias sniffing out the pray

In the aquarium of her memory
There is a measure of everything
Multidimensional penitentiary
The exit marked by Ariadne's string

She was a mother who lost her child
And now she's caught in a space-time warp
Maybe I felt her inside my mind?
To me she looked like a shining orb.
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