Don't be Alarmed Darlings

Stranded, as the will to live

Pick-pocketed, I stole their grief!

Forward, famished ones, we have nearly arrived!

 

To painting blood on holidays

And entering the carriage of the feminine

More savagely and princely than ever before!

 

For snorting seconds of enormous hope!

I swore, pleaded, stabbed, fought to fasten

Myself to a life the light will gobble up

 

I will be toppled as the treachery-spattered stars

Mute and dumb, in the rump of the city

A part of me will endure in all of you

 

In one corner of my soul, outpouring

Nothing at all will remain of my pain

Sunsets will continue to shudder in last gasps

 

New eyes will choose to deliberately suffer

For the forget-me-nots of our little eyes

Which can only champion so much

 

Hungry and resonant, my fingers will shudder

The doorbell’s iron throat will hum.

Reviews

[Michael Kevin Spencer]

Been reading Russian sentimentalists I see!

[Prolific In Verse]

Yes got it, how many of us would ever read Mayakovsky eh?

[Michael Kevin Spencer]

I don't know a Russian perhaps? Or somebody from Belarus who used to be Russian? Or sometimes who is a communist and studies Russian for kicks?