Записи с темой: english (список заголовков)

Из коллекции ночных

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
i write from a place,
i write from this place,
a concrete physical place,
a warm spot on my body,
just a bit under my breast.
no, not from my heart,
literally from under my breast
because that's where it feels ok,
that's where it feels safe
to put words together
into thoughts,
and then to share them with a page.

once the words are on the page
they seem to cease being my words
they start a life of their own
get houses, families, children, pets,
change jobs, travel,
make same mistakes twice.
they forget the place they came from,
they forget the closeness we used to share.

@темы: ночные мысли, english


Из коллекции жизни: без тебя

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
my whole life i will be learning to live without you
i will fill the emptiness of your absence
with pictures on my zenit
with thai sunsets
with fixing my body by going to the gym
with constant ryanair flights
with mosh pit concerts
with winter walks in snowstorms
with alcohol
with occasional smoking
with sex with these arrogant mansluts
with books about great adventures
with great adventures of my own
with midnight teas and writing
with work
with friendship
with laughter
with excellence -- because you know that i will achieve it even without you

i will overcompensate and live harder and brighter than i ever would with you

and some call this "living for yourself"
and others call it "loving yourself first"
but i just call it fucking lonely, fucking incomplete, fucking unhappy
because yes, i have not met you yet

... but what if i never do.


@темы: непроза, жизнь, english


Из коллекции коротенечек

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
in this age of technology
in this space with no privacy
maybe it is good that you and I do not have any pictures together

@темы: коротенечки, english


торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
"Scorched Earth" is a military strategy invented by the Scythians, which involves destroying anything that might be useful to the enemy while advancing through or withdrawing from an area.

as a final act of self-loathing
i will let my meat govern itself
and devour your meat
whole and complete
i will let my guilt rise and overwhelm me
i will let it drown and suffocate me
then i well forget the words
"drown" and "suffocate"
then i will forget all the other words that were said
then everything inside me will quiet down
and everyone around me will shut up
and in this silence
i will break
and stiffen up
as my heart learns to beat ever-so-slightly
and my lungs learn to live with half-the-air

but i will stop this,
i will find a way to stop this
and i will relish the pain.

@темы: english, дневные мысли


Из коллекции английского

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
if my lover had a child
this would be a different story. completely.
if tomorrow he brought in
pictures she drew for him or
things he made for him;
if he started showing me
pride in his eyes,
accomplishment in his manner;
if he started commenting,
and boasting,
and explaining,
i would stand quietly, stay still
and hope that this,
as a heavy cloud,
would pass.

i would see in my lover's child
the eyes that long for me in the dark,
the hair that sweeps past my neck,
the same exprеssion that greets me in the morning
for there wouldn't be anything in this child
that would not be my lover's.

if my lover had a child
my own unborn children
would peek from their hiding places
with curiosity
eager to see this mystery,
this oddity,
this being
so familiar, yet so foreign.

@темы: english


Из коллекции английского

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
the man you like is the man you kiss

@темы: english


Из коллекции цитат

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
Goodnight, you princes of Maine. You kings of New England.

(c) John Irving

@темы: english, цитаты


Из коллекции ночного

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
northern constellations shine
your face becomes distorted
i cry and break
my fever and my dream

and yet, my sleep continues unaffected


мелкие северные божки
зажгли на небе созвездия
- написали свои имена
непонятными нам, буквами-картинками
и тычут сверху пальцами (или чем там)

вот К—, бог плодородия и войны,
всегда остающийся при деле,
вне зависимсти от дел людских.
этот бог обозначает своё имя простой закарючкой,
потому что у него до сих пор не нашлось времени
научиться писать.

рядом, вселяющее ужас имя богини В—,
покровительницы музыки и прочих искуств.
люди так боятся её,
что в музыканты и поэты
идут только безумно смелые или дураки,
что в данном случае - одно и тоже.
как именно богиня обозначает своё имя,
никто не знает, потому что никто ещё
не отважился присмотреться.

от страшного к приятному,
бог любви и поцелуев в щёчку, Д—
рисует своё имя на полнеба,
заполняя его звёздочками и завитушечками,
многих это быстро начинает раздражать.

Й—, бог лени, снов и всего самого лучшего,
попросил написать своё имя кого-нибудь ещё.
сам он, согласно легенде, где-то спит
вот уже десять лет.

Кто-Нибудь-Ещё, самый трудолюбивый из богов,
точно высчитывает расстояние между главными
и второстепенными звёздами в своём имени,
сопоставляет его с различными азбуками и теоремами
и пытается сделать из него две вечные параллели.

богиня смерти, Э—,
украшает небо самыми красивыми и яркими звёздами.
люди на них засматриваются,
тем самым упрощая труд богини.

патриарх пантеона, владыка элементов и человеческих душ,
так же ищвестный как Ы—,
никак не обозначает своё имя,
ибо ему и так принадлежит всё небо.

а люди смотрят снизу и дивятся.

@темы: english, непроза, сны


торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
que sera, sera
whatever will be, will be

с каждым днём становится светлее
и когда я под утро ложусь спать,
кажется что я прожила на свете целую вечность

@темы: english, ночные мысли


торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
"i loved you when you were twenty-one"

today i was hunted by visions
of a different
more succesful me

i couldn't write shit

@темы: english


Из коллекции черновиков: разбираясь в старых бумажках

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
to do list

купить книжки
купить кувшин
достать вилок


может уже было?

из ушей вытекает вода
а на губах иней


из неясного

“Merde,” said Maximillien de Robespierre. He was right, the French were in the merde.


из пафосного

Through the distorted colour glasses of my words, I look as no one ever sees me, but as I am in my faintest dreams. I stand and stare; a reminiscence of the past: friends, teachers, and those who simply made my life beautiful. I thank no one, but I am grateful. Memories of you will always live in the tips of my fingers, keeping me warm in those long winter nights, when there is no tea left to brew. Civilizations disappear, time bends, reality shifts, but we will never be younger than we were today. Never forget.


у фрэнка был зонтик, а я у меня были синие резиновые сапоги

@темы: english, отрывки


Из коллекции стихов

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
what is this thought if not a dream.

i leave my eyes and windows open to the wind
it swooshes through, flies by without a stop
but brings with it and leaves
the memory of distant places
the ashes of forgotten races
and words i gave to it three years ago.

they're just as quiet.


многие рассказы в этом сезоне начинаются со слова "ты". ты даже не представляешь, но это стало моим новым бзиком. разница во времени? в расстоянии? в возрасте? всё взаимноудаляется. остаётся только растерянное "ты" и вездесущее "я", но с ним-то, как раз, ничего не поделать.

когда по крышам разгуливают кошки
дикие мужчины бегают по комнате
а я сижу и вдумчиво моргаю

@темы: english, ночные мысли


Из коллекции цитат

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense.

There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days - burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob - a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a seabreeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for "fifty", blooming for fifty days - the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance.

There is also the ------, secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat - a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen - a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as "that which plucks the fowls." The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, "black wind." The Samiel from Turkey, "poison and wind," used often in battle. As well as the other "poison winds," the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness.

Other, private winds.

Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the "sea of darkness". Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cronwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. "Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901."

There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was "so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred."

Dust storms in three shapes. The whirl. The column. The sheet. In the first the horizon is lost. In the second you are surrounded by "waltzing Ginns." The third, the sheet, is "copper-tinted. Nature seems to be on fire."

(c) The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

@темы: english, цитаты


Из коллекции мыслей

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
ты не оглядываешься назад
дышишь полугрудью
ни о чём не думаешь
и пытаешься убежать от ветра

"losing sight of the eternal garden can be devastating at best."

what is important to remember is that you cannot touch the sky
even if you jump very high
and think you can
one way or the other
you see a girl in a white dress with feathers
you think she is a bird
and expect her to join you
and when she doesn't
and when you fly up even further
you remember that you weren't supposed to be here either
and fall

what is
beneath you
underneath you
have you ever thought about it?

@музыка: serart - black melon

@темы: english


Из коллекции непрозы

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
о баобабах и людях

the world keeps turning round'n'round
and i am standing in the middle
i plant my roots so firmly to the ground
that they go through and hit the indian ocean

i splash and squint
for i love salty waters

i smile and swing
my branches high


of baobabs and people

мир крутится вокруг своей оси
а я стою, как раз, посередине,
впиваюсь в глубину земли корнями
и достаю до индии, до океана.

я балуюсь и брызгаюсь
среди солёных вод

я улыбаюсь и качаю
ветви выше. выше.

@темы: english, непроза


Из коллекции снов: of america again

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
dreaming of america again

you and i dream of america tonight.

"again," you comment in my sleep.
"again," i answer you.

we might be well dreaming of the truth. the third night in a row we're dreaming of america: the poor and the extremely rich.

i've heard that in america all walls are grey, all windows dirty, all wal-marts way too big.
i've heard that in america all people are angry, no dogs are friendly, and fast food is way too greasy.
i've heard that in america all money smells like perspiration-blood-n'-coke, all life is just a game of black jack, and no one is too happy about anything.

all that - america.

you say, "well, that looks lovely. let's"
i say, "well, that this then"

. а теперь почти тоже самое, но вверх тормашками .

я говорю, "ну, тот этот тогда"
ты говоришь, "ну, это всё выглядит чудесно. давай"

всё это - америка.

я слышала, что в америке все деньги пахнут потом-кровью-и-немножко-кока-колой; что жизнь там - лишь игра в блэк джэк; и что никто ничем не счастлив.
я слышала, что в америке все люди злятся, все собаки кусаются, а весь фаст фуд ужасно жирен.
я слышала, что в америке все стены серы, все окна грязны, и все магазины уж слишком велики.

мы третью ночь видим сны об америке: о бедных и фантастически богатых. вполне возможно, что нам снится правда.

"опять," тебе я отвечаю.
"опять," ты шепчешь в моём сне.

сегодня ночью я и ты видим сны об америке.

сны об америке опять

@настроение: триррррр

@темы: english, непроза, сны


Из коллекции цитат: oceans

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
i am a man of melted motivation.
i Am the endless need for the next generation, and the one after, and the one after ...
i have an ocean in my ears. SPLASH SPLASH. i make the sound, the night is silent.

(c) D.A.

@темы: english, цитаты


Из коллекции того, что надо читать: Ливерпуль - продолжение

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
After Liverpool
James Saunders


[The MAN is talking]

W: Just a minute, can you stop?
M: What's the matter?
W: I'm bored with this conversation.
M: You're what?
W: The conversation doesn't interest me.
M: Oh?
W: Can you talk about something else?
M: Certainly, if you want me to. I do apologize for boring you.
W: Not you, your conversation. You weren't to know, I was trying to look interested. My fault.
M: You mean you shouls have looked bored?
W: No, I should have told you straight away I wasn't interested.
M: Hm. Does this often happen?
W: What?
M: Finding yourself saddled with a crashing bore?
W: You are not a crashing bore.
M: Just an ordinairy bore.
W: I've offended you.
M: Me? Why should I be offended. You're the one who should be offended, having put up with a crashing bore.
W: You are not...
M: After all, if one's a crashing bore it's best that one's told. Thank you. For telling me. That I'm a...
W: Stop it.
M: Am I boring you again?
W: Listen. Stop it and listen, be quiet and shut up and listen. It's quite simple. You were talking about something which didn't interest me. I should have let you know at once. Instead I pretended to be interested. It was my mistake. I apologize.
M: Oh, don't apologize, I shouls apologize, I'm the bore.
W: You're not listening...
M: And now I have news for you. May I tell it, at the risk of boring you?
W: Go on.
M: This conversation is boring me. So shall we change the subject? Or better still, since we both find each other such crashing bores, perhaps I'll put the television on.
W: I don't want television, I want to talk to you.
M: In spite of the fact that I'm...
W: Please. Stop it, please, please.
M: The sad thing is, I was only telling you that story because I thought you might be interested, It was of no interest to me.


Bullet With Butterfly Wings, какие всё таки разные люди сюда заходят .)

@темы: english, цитаты


Из коллекции того, что надо читать: Ливерпуль - продолжение

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
After Liverpool
by James Saunders


W: So you're going at last?
M: Seems like it.
W: Is that yes or no?
M: Unless you've got some other idea.
W: I've run out of ideas. Why, do you have any ideas?
M: If I had I suppose I wouldn't be going, would I?
W: I suppose not. Anyway, I've tried everything.
M: You've tried everything?
W: We've both tried everything, I suppose. I suppose there is no point in hanging on. No point in trying again. No point in going over the same old ground again and again and again. Best to give up, I suppose. Cut one's losses. Go, go. Try with somebody else.
M: There's nobody else.
W: You'll find somebody else.
M: So will you.
W: I daresay. Not to worry about me.
M: We did agree it would be best.
W: I know we agreed. I'm saying, go, go. Only.
M: Only what?
W: It's your decision.
M: My decision!
W: Just so long as you realize. It's your decision.
M: We both agreed...
W: We both agreed but it's your decision, it's still your decision. You're the one who's going.
M: One of us has to go.
W: And you're the one. You've made the decision to go. I haven't. I can't make the decision for you. Just so long as you realize.
M: Do you want me to go?
W: I want you to make your own decision and do your own thing. I'm not going to hold you back. If you want to go. I also don't want to be - held responsible - if you do.
M: Do you want me to go?
W: I want you to do as you think fit!
M: Do you want me to go! Do you want me to go!!
W: No. [Pause] Do you want to go?
M: No. [Pause] Oh, what else is there to say?
W: We'll find something.


я узнаю себя в ней
и даже знаю что со мной не так
что со мной так, я тоже знаю,
но, сэр, дело не в этом
дело просто в том что я

@темы: english, цитаты


Из коллекции того, что надо читать: Ливерпуль - продолжение

торгую догмами и эскапизмами.
After Liverpool
by James Saunders


W: Hey.
M: Hm?
W: Catch.
M: Thanks.
W: Eat.
M: Catch.
W: Thanks.
M: Eat.
W: Catch...


Глава 1: Сказки по телефону

С вечера на ночь. Тихим голосом. Импровизированным репертуаром.


А пч, меж тем, всё уходят и уходят. Не прощаются даже. У меня три варианта: я слишком много пишу, я слишком много пишу о глупостях, я делаю слишком много ошибок (хихикает). Интересно какой из.

@темы: english, отрывки, цитаты

all the men you'll never get to kiss