Before You Lose Your Sense of Humor

 the whirl wind is coming

it will cast aside everything that's funny 

mortals will find everything sensitive 

or inappropriate

lets laugh at our follies 

before crooked mortals foment in them 

and grow new extremely sensitive skins 

as sensitive as their loins 

lets laugh at our intellect 

or lack thereof - or lack thereof 

when we elect leaders 

let's laugh before it becomes a crime to 

have a dissenting view 

laugh at your girlfriend's bulbous nose 

laugh at her poor cooking skills 

before she stops finding it funny 

before you become an eyesore

 

Lands of the Free

 The soft wind kisses your soft cheeks 

You raise your hands as if they are wings 

Because they are wings

And because you are ready to fly away 

To distant lands of the free 

The tinkling cold water kisses your dainty feet 

You are ready to walk on water - like Jesus 

And seek shores that promise greener pastures 

You are not afraid of snakes anymore 

May be one will offer you an apple 

For you are done with these damn lemons 

Bargaining for Hope

 Did we ever have to bargain 

for a shred of hope? 

Did we ever have to look at 

the distant horizon, 

And plead with our calloused hands?

Yes, once, twice...

four...seventy times 

And we still do 

We are bargaining for a millionth of hope 

A grain of hope 

So that the nights does not seem longer.

And the days harsher 

Did we commit unforgivable sins?

Maybe...

May be we lied to merchants of hope 

Or angels that ferried hope 

Or we kicked poor scrawny animals 

That came with good tidings 

We do not know 

Hence we toil

Maybe today we our children won't sleep hungry 

The River

 It still flows, 

a river seeking vain shores 

sleek in its meanders, 

over rocks, 

flowing, 

an endless chuckle of water, 

uniting with the bird's songs 

songs that sound like distant dirges 

it flows like a vulture, 

circling above - waiting 

waiting for an imminent death. 

Against Will

The sun pours its light on unwanted dreams

Scorching it, withering its sweet bloom

The scents of the dream slowly recede

To oblivion, or withdrawn by gods in charge of scents

Always – always – against one’s will

Nothing New

 What's new under the sun?

Isn't what you consider new 

existed thousands years ago?

Isn't you new love someone's ex?

Or a person he or she grew tired being around 

So tired that their breathing irritated them

Nothing is new, 

Not you, not me 

We are all second hand goods 

whether we like or not 

Because someone like you has existed in the course of time

Live your life - it was preordained 

Live Again

 When chicken go home to roost

We will rise to raise our cocks 

And let them crow the entire night 

Or take off in debauched flights