nedjelja, 04.02.2007.
SYLVIA PLATH (1932 - 1963)
 DADDY You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time --- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been sacred of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You --- Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two --- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through. LADY LAZARUS I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it --- A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the napkin O my enemy. Do I terrify? --- The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The Peanut-crunching crowd Shoves in to see Them unwrap me hand in foot --- The big strip tease. Gentlemen , ladies These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut As a seashell. They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls. Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical Comeback in broad day To the same place, the same face, the same brute Amused shout: 'A miracle!' That knocks me out. There is a charge For the eyeing my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart --- It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood Or a piece of my hair on my clothes. So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. I am your opus, I am your valuable, The pure gold baby That melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern. Ash, ash--- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there---- A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air. |
četvrtak, 12.01.2006.
KYRIL FADEEV
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Hope U like it, 'cause I just love it! ; )
 Wings of butterfly; artist's technique on paper; 69 x 90 cm; 2004  Liberation; artist's technique, acryl on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2003  Angel; artist's technique on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2004  Dance of flowers III; artist's technique on paper; 75 x 90 cm; 2004  Bodies; artist's technique, acryl on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2003  Fantasies in the shower room; artist's technique on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2004  Gladiator; artist's technique on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2004  Mars through the blue glasses; artist's technique on paper; 90 x 64 cm; 2004  Wondering; watercolor, gouache, air brush on paper; 43 x 61 cm; 2002  Rain; artist's technique on paper  Insomnia; artist's technique on paper; 64 x 90 cm; 2003  Me and my friend; watercolor, gouache, air brush on paper; 30 x 64 cm; 2002  Just a flower; watercolor, gouache, air brush on paper; 85 x 60 cm; 2002 |
srijeda, 28.12.2005.
Forbidden Love by Nicole L. Draven
 In the darkness My love creeps. In a coffin My lover sleeps. He visits me When the moon is full, Lovers who cannot Truly be. Quietly, my shadow lover Comes to me, Holding me in his arms Gently, sweetly kissing me. Tonight is the night I've finally chosen For my lover and I To live through eternity. With my hand in his I leave my mortal life behind. |
petak, 09.12.2005.
Sad Dancer by Mystique
 I told him he was the sad dancer He had a sickness something like cancer, I feel it in my heart and see it in his eyes He doesn't even care if he lives or dies. I wanted to be the one to whom he could run And live for a moment under his sun, I thought I could be a healer Something like rain, But I could never feel or understand his pain. I said, ''Hold on! I will help you cope!'', But he was not buying that shit called hope. In me he could never confide But still, I stayed by his side. There's no such thing as A knight in shining armor, I could never protect him from the things that harm him. He said I could never make things right But it would only be enough if I held him tonight, Only a girl, but I felt his tears Maybe just for one night he had no fears. You know, he's the sad dancer, He's got a sickness something like cancer. |
nedjelja, 27.11.2005.
Misty by Unknown
 My name is Misty I am but three, My eyes are swollen I cannot see. I must be stupid I must be bad, What else could have made Made my daddy so mad? I wish I were better I wish I weren't ugly, Then maybe my mommy Would still want to hug me. I can't speak at all I can't do a wrong, Or else I'm locked up All the day long. When I awake I'm all alone, The house is dark My folks aren't home. When my mommy does come I'll try and be nice, So maybe I'll get just One whipping tonight. Don't make a sound! I just heard a car, My daddy is back From Charlie's Bar. I hear him curse My name he calls, I press myself Against the wall, I try and hide From his evil eyes, I'm so afraid now I'm starting to cry. He finds me weeping He shouts ugly words, He says it's my fault That he suffers at work. He slaps me and hits me And yells at me more, I finally get free And I run for the door. He's already locked it And I start to bawl, He takes me and throws me Against the hard wall. I fall to the floor With my bones nearly broken, And my daddy continues With more bad words spoken. ''I'm sorry'', I scream But it's now much too late, His face has been twisted Into unimaginable hate. The hurt and the pain Again and again, Oh please God, have mercy! Oh please, let it end! And he finally stops And heads for the door, While I lay there motionless Sprawled on the floor. My name is Misty And I am but three, Tonight my daddy Murdered me. |
petak, 25.11.2005.
Red Tears by Courtney Dorman
 I drink water and her blood is what I taste. I look in the mirror and I see her face. I dream and see her crying red tears, I see her trying to stab away her fears. The red fills the tub she lays in, It's happened before but I see it all again. I hear her voice when I'm on the phone, I see her when I'm at home alone. Red tears were on her face when she cried, Red tears covered her body when she died. |
nedjelja, 13.11.2005.
The Night by Jolene Sessler
 I am the night And I shall take you Where the light no longer shines. Come with me (If you dare). Leave the shadow Of your life. Abandon your material (If you can) They are of no value anyway. Fallow me now Not too closely Or I'll kill you. Too far behind? I'll leave you. Remember, you need me. Without me, You wouldn't exist. Don't be afraid. You chose to live this way; I only provide the medium. I am the night So follow me To where the rules of the day Do not apply. |
