Sunday, June 30, 2013

December fairies


   It’s been two weeks in UK already. So what’s the development? Eh, fuck it. I don’t feel like talking about the job hunting and stuff. I’d rather fly away, find some cozy hideout and look at stars, smoking cigarettes (the ones that don’t give cancer and smell of gingerbreads), and feeling safe and looked after. You know what I mean – the feeling of home, belonging, harmony. Something that I’m not sure can be reached on this messed up planet. Soon I’ll be forty (little bit more then in two years). Twenty, even ten years ago I thought that at this age I was going to know what it is all about - who I am, what I want from life, where is my place. It happens that I still don’t have a clue. I’m thirty seven years old dude, sitting alone in a dusty garret, in a crappy town, in a foreign country, without a dime to rub against another, watching The Big Bang Theory, writing bad poetry, and drinking way too much Strong Bow. But this is not what I wanted to say.

I miss it.
The sound of half-frozen brook, stars, icy air,
December fairies in their sheepskin coats
And rosy chicks.
To walk in the winter nights,
With snow creaking under the boots,
With ancient gods and spirits
Waving to us from their sky-ships,
With our thoughts crisp and clear,
Our roots deep and sturdy,
Our wings lighter then moonlight.
I remember the dark winter nights,
When I was a wolf.
I’ll meet you there.

2 comments:

  1. very touching. hello from Thailand)

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  2. Hey Amazonka:) Thanks. It's getting better, step by step. Good luck in Thailand:)

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