tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22576530237357623122024-02-20T03:23:39.585-08:00The empty wood inside the half-asleep fishHi there! My name is Diana Mak. Here is my experimental poetry-prose.diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-39802944734008883602012-01-30T12:30:00.000-08:002012-01-30T12:30:34.064-08:00Blame The Idiot: ПреТотальность<a href="http://blame-the-idiot11.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_9546.html?spref=bl">Blame The Idiot: ПреТотальность</a>: vВы не знаете что таит в себе выстрел, Спина и сведенный к тишине, гибкий, интервал почти не заметных. День. Я претендую на занемевшую н...diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-79402252551949259982012-01-30T12:27:00.000-08:002012-01-30T12:27:11.202-08:00I play with mint fingers from crumpled music.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I play with mint fingers from crumpled music.<br /> Sounds apart.<br /><br /> The keys are impregnated with a cold sweat.<br /><br /> I break my fingers. Through.<br /> The pitch.<br /> <br /> Snow mixed with a cotton candy.<br /> Sticks to the pupils.<br /><br /> Cautious exhalation. Breath. Fermata.<br /><br /> eyelashes-bows cut the dawn to the colorful ribbons.<br /><br /> It is so good ..<br />I better put the smile into the fridge.<br />
So it will not sour.<br /><br />And I'll set an alarm clock for my thoughts. Or for the nuts in muesli. <br />
It doesn't matter. It's so chaotically in the morning.<br />
<br />Feet hysterically paw over the prickly parquet.<br />Because of the sadness nails are hiding in the bones.<br /> <br /> Today my guests are the fallen leaves.<br /> We'll play croquet with timber clubs.<br /><br /> Then we gonna sit down on the crowns-cushions<br />
and arrange the sun drinking.<br /><br /></div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-77493515369724852012011-08-05T07:42:00.001-07:002012-01-13T07:12:09.839-08:00look out!..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Never allow your fingers be close to the crushed glass.<br />
Nails are fickle.<br />
They will leave your fingers, they will lie beside the fragments.<br />
<br />
My eyebrows decided to trifle with me.<br />
So they hid behind the left ear.<br />
I punished them.<br />
I poured the acid on them.<br />
<br />
Lost hangers in your wardrobe<br />
want the wind as much as you do.<br />
<br />
Look out.<br />
You can hang there too.<br />
<br />
Don't breathe through the threads -<br />
You might get poisoned.</div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-63363126557620102162011-08-04T13:21:00.000-07:002011-08-04T13:21:37.008-07:00About the dust and birds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
It snows with dust a lot in my room.<br />
I love to swallow it. And knitting needles.<br />
And threads. And beads from the old toys. And toys.<br />
<br />
Where did the dust from<br />
the book by Dostoevsky disappear?<br />
It is in my nostrils. And in my stomach. And in my heart. And on the eyelashes.<br />
<br />
hush.. Old birds don't like the noise.<br />
<br />
… !!...! .! *..,!!!!,,****»..,.?????....%%...!.!..%.%...._+++….(«*(..»*?»%*»:…<br />
<br />
They try to say something.<br />
Out of me.<br />
<br />
My own thready beady dusty orchestra.<br />
It mustn't be listened to. It must be inhaled.<br />
<br />
Suicidal birds constantly ram into my windows.<br />
Tuesday. Morning. At dawn I was trying to catch the local birds<br />
and I was tearing off their wings<br />
so that all of them might not pierce into my windows.<br />
<br />
Mercuric fibers.<br />
Grate the sparrows.<br />
Yummy!<br />
<div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-32743242219568328032011-08-04T11:48:00.000-07:002011-08-04T11:48:26.939-07:00About trees and the blindness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Did anyone ever happen<br />
to tear off the butterfly's wings,<br />
going through the fall?<br />
<br />
The empty wood inside the half-asleep fish.<br />
<br />
All the trees are mad.<br />
I feel myself in safety beside them.<br />
They open an etrance into the street lamp's holes for me.<br />
<br />
I gulp trees.<br />
<br />
Today I put the dead earth on.<br />
I cut off my face<br />
to hide the cracks.<br />
<br />
The crickets go out<br />
when the Moon cries.<br />
<br />
it's dark.<br />
<br />
Having choked with the branches,<br />
I lost my sight.<br />
<div><br />
</div></div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-23355171811224248922011-08-04T10:20:00.000-07:002011-08-04T10:26:59.665-07:00to stick<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div>not to live, not to breathe into the dusty snow</div><div>not to live, not to breathe into the polar mold</div><div>to feed the shrivelled wind with tears</div><div>to grab deciduous smog into the back of my head</div><div>to burn the moist brushwood under my skin</div><div>to rub the mouldering smoke into my knees</div><div><br />
</div><div>keep sticking</div><div>with hair into the clay</div><div><br />
</div></div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2257653023735762312.post-78383330469865103302011-06-22T14:06:00.000-07:002011-06-22T14:06:35.186-07:00The soliloquy to a street lamp<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Moth ate the asphalt on my street</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m lying crushed in remains of the road</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hey there.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hey, look. Stroke it . Yes, this is a tame chestnut.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It sprouts into the most cheerless only. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So you have nothing to be afraid of.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">‘Cause you are a street lamp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You’re standing alone, you’re crumbling away into the garbage can...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You know, frequently I have dreams about scents of frozen fingers</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Locked in cracks under the banisters.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">They slide on rough wood</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Getting splinters</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And crackling with them at the time of thunderstorm.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Once I heard that with bits of truth we knock colours out of life<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Colours crave for interlacements.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As a matter of fact, not so rusty as you got.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The road disappeared. Moth, you know..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On the roadside there are so many vagrant empty shoes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Could you cure it as you’ve cured me once.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh but what’s going on?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sand is shuffling upon the skin.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It looks like sand wants to commune with us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We are as sandy as it gets, my dear street lamp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We’ll have to stay here for a couple of Julies.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hey, where did you go?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It’s gone, sand poured away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Let us fly away as well.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">fields..fields..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">ears..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">fields..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">fields.. poppies.. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">fields..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">polar bear</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A polar bear!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hungry? Flights are exhausting, aren't they? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Well, let’s rub with the eye stuffing</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">heels<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hair<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nails</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And let them march into the stomach</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To bring discord.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hey, street lamp, you seem to have as interlayed nerves as I got,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Interlayed over expectation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the corners of the mouth nerves come out</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And tie up the tongue.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m silent.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But still, we keep breathing out the dreams.</span></div><br />
<br />
Diana Mak</div>diana-makhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17727518891368946404noreply@blogger.com0