Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Peering out the dusty window Rain pattering on the sill… My eyes long to be bloody free Yet my glare remains completely still For there is nothing other which is on my mind Except the brilliance congested within The parasites inside me wish to be gone Crawl away ‘til their carcasses reach Berlin For I so desperately desire To be able to read your mind Not a trace of emotions abandoned Not a shred of thought left behind If only I could read you like a novel With words printed, crisp and clean Scrawled all over your clothes and neck Secrets unravelled and out to be seen For your fruitless gaze withers my soul Monotonous gestures damage my scabs ‘Till I feel uncertain if I am worth it at all And my heart is chopped like veal, into slabs Yes, if only your existence was written in words That any warm blooded human could unseal It would be joyous, but on the other hand I am afraid as to what it would reveal

There is no departure from my scent, my love For I am the perfume of salty blue waves thundering down on the rocks from above You cannot hold back from my gaze, my dear Because I am not only the apple, I am the entire fruit bowl of your eye Reaching away from my voice is not possible I am intertwined with the very air that you inhale and each hummingbird’s flip of a wing is encompassed by my delicate speech Do not attempt to be invisible, you shall fail For every rose’s woe is my own and I am all the sun’s rays that bring you joy day by day, they are all my creation just for you Even if your lips do not split for a second, sweetheart, My taste will endlessly saunter in the creases of your tongue, candied nectar blossomed with raspberry juice and raisin dust- whichever aroma you desire, and I am that taste I am a grain of sand on the beach that you carelessly stomp your foot on, I know, but my graces are not faltered by this, for, I am here .

Ravens roost in the crevices of my rib cage No, not only do they torment flabby pieces of skin They peck away at me from inside out Their needle sharp beaks pinning delicate human characteristics in vain Long, slender yet deadly wings as black as soot and as enraged as Poseidon’s sea Those wings that cannot leave me be…

When bewildered by my daily duties I erase all memories of internal thought I just do as I am told and live in comfort Forgiving all torment that life has brought At times, rarely, when the moon is frustrated And the creases of my mind are flooding with nerve I sit back for a moment and breathe a few more Review life’s tragedies, comedies, and observe How I strongly wish to do nothing at all But to stare at a blank wall in vain Be eliminated from all hell and mischief All responsibilities gone; what a shame! I long for the minute hand to calm down for a while I wish to drug it until it dozes away In fact, I could willingly diminish that watch So it would not smile at me any more in dismay Surely, time would begin devouring itself Until nothing was left of it but cannibal clocks They would fight ‘til the last scrap of metal is gone No more heart wrenching chorus of tick-tocks Enclosed in a chamber of nothingness would be splendid Laying on my back, oblivious to

I came back home crying to my mother one day She asked me why my eyes were so sore But how could I speak when my lips were deserted? For they hurt from not being kissed anymore Each breath was a mission I was not willing to take A boulder heaved down on my bones Everything was so difficult; all emotions deployed It felt so familiar to be safely alone My mother looked at me solemnly and told me, “Adolescence is by far the most complex stage At times you’re ecstatic, for you’ve succeeded! But unfortunately, most times you fail at this age” “Uncertainty is an irritating rash That seems to linger, unable to heal Curiosity is juvenile, yet stabs your core ‘Till you question if heaven is real” I pondered on this and I dreamt that night I dreamt about hawks circling me ‘round They gracefully sliced the air above me Without a squawk nor vigorous sound The thoughts poured like an oil spill into the sea… Who am I? Who will I be? What is the future holding for me? The

At times my heart is so wildly lonesome Desperate for a white dove to find… Black blood oozing from pores of despair For my love has been nothing but declined Even marmosets’ hearts beat for their pair Yet my pulse is calmer than a sloth’s This pathway ends at a garden so divine… But I surrender and brush all certainty off So I live day by day, this mournful mouse that I am Grey and wavering- I fade into the dark Spying on smiling faces in unison… I care more about cheese bits than lovely remarks Why bother lifting a finger when I know I will fail When I am certain what can go wrong, certainly will Twenty years from now, I won’t mind being alone I will live in an astounding house atop of a hill Incapability of romance, of faith, and of trust I am truly handicapped in these fields of devotion Risks are not things that I accept with great pride No, I avoid all things that may hurt my emotion Unfortunately, a cat does not make a sufficient life partner And neithe

There is no better place to work than at this camp Though your headaches will worsen and feet will be damp The friendships we make will forever survive Though is you spread hatred, of friends you will be deprived The skies are clear on most days, and head's in a mist The hypothermia-inducing bay is tough to resist Breathe in the fresh bittersweet breeze Be baffled as sunlight kisses the trees At Camp Presqu'ile the soundtrack consists of children and birds Plus coyotes at night, but don't be concerned Though the job insists on creating bags under your eyes And there's a few troublemakers that you really despise You starve on "beans and weiners" day, you love your nights off If one person gets sick, everybody will cough You come back to this place every year The reason for this may not exactly be clear But hey, I'm kitchen staff, what do I know? Well, at Camp Presqu'ile you don't have to put on a show Don't be afraid t

I should have listened to my intuition Before I applied for a kitchen position Now I am cursed with this temporary career The Kitchen Staff Oath begins right here: I promise to wash every dish spotless clean And fill the lawn tractor with the right gasoline There is no excuse for coming to work late I will come every morning in a hygienic state I swear to never abuse my coworkers with mayonnaise Violence is not the answer- I will live by that phrase Water fights are for idiots; this summer I will be mature I'm prepared for all hardships that I will endure I will survive this through blood, sweat, and tears At any moment in the day, I will be glad to be here I shall be obedient to the almighty boss With a smile on my face, I will never be cross Never will I eat and ice cream sandwich that is not mine I'll clean the floor to perfection, never will I step out of line Most of all, NEVER will I procrastinate, argue, or loaf I will abide by the kitchen sta

Slouched on a dishevelled sofa Cheese bits in one hand, pop in the other The world is but a dazzle of incoherence Head is deaf to the words of my mother Like a shot of whiskey, video games bring me joy In fact I could be game drunk for days As my technique is developed, I know I can improve And enhance the scoreboard and number of plays The gore and surrealism in front of my eyes Is too riveting for one to resist If a black-out were to occur ever again, My game console would most certainly be missed Game controllers are my greatest ecstasy Without them my heart would not be complete I agree that tootsie rolls are delightful But shooting virtual creatures is five times as sweet As I am lost in a labyrinth of the gaming world Reality seems to be unreachable and impossible to attain Eyelids are heavy and thumbs tender and raw Halo overdose; brain cells deteriorating, going insane If only life were a video game in itself All choices would be simple as pie Because

My eyes can see Yet I have less satisfactory perception than a fruit bat clinging to a branch in the moonlit night, hovering aimlessly over bruised peaches, staining its petty wings in sweet liquid; how unfortunate that this mere excuse for a mammal is better than I My skin can feel Yet a serpent has the capability to penetrate the quilted layer of my arm muscle, and it indeed, if thirsty enough, can spew poisonous acidity into the blood cells of my vein, rushing to my idiotic brain as it morphs into a mass of disgrace Whoever imbecile founded the theory that humanity is the mightiest in the animal kingdom was clearly a fool who had never witnessed daylight beyond the golden gates of his estate. Or perhaps he had a few too many barrels of grape wine while gambling at a round table in the shaggy basement with his equally numskull friends. The world is ironic in that way- It is the animal kingdom that is more powerful than we. Humans are selfish, money driven rodents We would

If only, if only, if only... What shy words of faulty wisdom and pity I would have, could have, should have... Phrases plainly mendacious; not witty If only there were a device to make time turn on itself If only I could mend my mistakes before they appeared If only my eyes were green instead of blue If only I could have faced all that I have feared If only love was but a fragment of one's mind If only God was but a mythical being If only poverty could perish in guilt If only I could watch the world falling apart without seeing If only everyone could just leave me in peace If only I could sit here and do nothing at all If only life were just a tad less complicated If only an angel would hint to me before I would fall If only things were the opposite of what they are now If only I were able to polish all of life's imperfections If only high school would just end tomorrow If only I would never have to suffer pain and rejection If only I accepted everythin

Each drop of dew on a blade of grass Is a thunderous, lunatic waterfall And each sliver of wound resulting from glass Is a tender bloodbath from which I crawl Red roses form a spark when I see your face And they wilt just as quickly as they grow A desert of loss is a horrid place In which an oasis morphs into snow Lustrous lips conceal all uncertainties Artificial courage formed by vintage heels Vacant stares are my heart's remedies Tangerines spoil more quickly than they peel Whether glamorous or gruesomely plain I am still a coward, firm, I'm the same

At times, when emotions drown To the abyss of surrealism An anchor weighs me down To the ghostly ocean floor An immortal murmurs into my soul Life is but a carnival Not a thing to be afraid of, the whole World is just a playground Hues of pinks and blues Cotton candy sweetens my heart It's funny how it stains my shoes And tortures my stomach a while Not all sweet things are good Everything comes with side effects I laugh much more often than I should Too often is too healthy? Like a carnival, life makes no sense Maidens scowl at passing-by clowns Those princesses' heads are much too dense To realize the humour in the world When struck by blueberry pie In the head, by a mischevious jester All one can do is savour the cream, or cry I would rather not do the latter A merry-go-round swirls While children's snickers are heard Balloons entertain little girls 'Til their mothers lead them back home I stand in front of distorting mirrors I am

The sky is composed of hues of teal and pink As the sun retires for the day This paradise of perfection glistens and gleams Licking away all liquor drops of dismay Each and every mansion on this hillside of elegance Has the exact same appearance as the last The sea of red roofs blends into the horizon This current of bricks so vast... The children tickle each other in the sandbox Parents observing them, chewing ice-creams This world is simply too ideal to be true This paradise must be from a catalogue of dreams And on the towering, most prominent hill There rests the most hideous looking house the town has seen The windows are shattered, doorknobs breaking in two Garage leaking onto the streets with gasoline All kids are forbidden from going up there And no adult would ever risk their life for curiosity’s sake But one very adventurous, special young boy Knew that this would be one risk he must take Climbing up the steep, slippery slope The heat of the sunlight

Like a rustic, rabid beast He prowls the night for traces of crust Left over in the tin garbage cans Smothered in layers of slimy, thick dust His eyes slice my heart much like A fresh blade drilling deep into a man's face Oozing blood dribbling onto the tiled floor With a mind of their own, droplets all over the place I am infatuated with this muscled creature My diligent fear dissolves into joy Like a pill of ecstasy in a mug of warm water My mind goes high when around this boy It is dismal that he is unable to see me No matter how hard he would try I am invisible, untouchable, an angel He's a demon from the underworld and I'm from the sky Who knew, that the rumours were true Opposites can't attract, let alone co-exist But those smooth, slick lips taunt my nerves Tongue covered in ashes so tough to resist I watch him from above my cloud He can be seen in the deepest pit of hell Oh loathsome, irresistible devil, How daringly I wish to rebel

I FAILED. The math performace task. Literally. It's a miracle if I got a 50% on it! Anyway, it's only worth 2% of my grade, but I still had a panic attack. Oh well, it's not the end of the world.. XD Enjoy <3 br="" nbsp=""> The day had begun so wonderfully, it was almost angelic The larks whistled away in the distance The sky was the clearest blue than it had been for weeks It is truly unfortunate that one horrific event had the strength to strip the trees of their beauty and replace the morning sunlight with demons Walking to school, Gracefully strutting one foot in front of the other She never expected that this would be the day the world would end It is something that one does not foretell or look forward to Math class She walked in through the steel iron doors They slammed shut right behind her “Pencils up…now; you have an hour to write the test” The demon in glasses had spoken Sitting there on his seat, sipping some café mocha She could not

On a solitary tree branch, at the top of the hill A mama bird has found herself home She tends for her egg through darkness and light Protecting her precious from starving alone The egg has hatched, feeble young beak Desperately pricks for a breath of pure air Mama bird teaches the young one to fly Oh tell me, why wasn't papa bird there? In fact, where has papa bird been all this while? Left poor mama bird handling life on her own She raised the youngster to be fearless and bold She nurtured it until it had grown No troubles arise, the youngster is free He has been brought up well and feels good Though deep in the roots of this bird's tender heart Are emotions of betrayal, being misunderstood No, this sapling will not ever be the same He is not normal, as from others, he has learned Penetrating through crusts of hatred and remorse All he ever wished for was to hug papa bird

I have been thinking about teenage boys and their general jerkiness/immaturity and have decided to dedicate a whole poem, simply ranting about how there is no such thing as a Romeo in this world, and there is no point to expecting perfection XP Enjoy. The sky is blue, My heart is grey These boys, they're tricky, They misbehave They treat hearts like chewing gum, To spit out on the street They love you until they bore, Then they search for someone fresh and sweet If only there were a factory Which could furnish the ideal boy One whose ego were at average height One who would not treat love as a toy Stunning green eyes and contrasting black hair A gorgeous smile and angelic lips He would have to be tall and slim, yet buff Not skeletal, yet trim at the hips He should be a gentle and caring soul Looking after his grandmother's cat He would be brilliant, though not genius Yet could withstand an intelligent chat My Romeo, my Romeo, how I wish he were re

Though the following is not a poem, it links to poetry and personal experience, so enjoy nonetheless. This blog is in dire need of some comic relief, wouldn't you agree? ;) Why is the term, "Poetic Scout" an oxymoron? I learned this from experience. No sooner had I been persuaded to join the army of scouts and tacky uniforms than I begun to have the growing urge to quit and get the hell out of there! Poets do not belong in scouts- this is just a fact of life. You cannot expect an absurd, artistic, and obediency-challenged poet to blend in with the flow of people who all dress and march exactly alike. What is the point of lifting your feet off of the ground at the same tempo as everyone else in the group, when you could concentrate less on your feet and more on your surroundings? A poet is distracted by the chirping of the birds and observes snowflakes gracefully falling to the ground. Just when I have an ideal start to a poem stuck in my head, I am disrupted by dr

Time It is not animal nor being Owns not a pair of wings yet Can travel so quickly it feels like Quicksand slips out of your feeble, wrinkly hands Fingers shrivelling, deep blue veins Poking through a shallow used layer of skin Oh, time does indeed cause pain If that minute hand just suddenly froze For a mere millisecond, the world would Be a catastrophe in two For time, like glue Makes it certain that the planet spins 'round If the second hand tick tocked In the wrong direction The future would come yet too soon For us human weaklings, it would be An overload of agony to bear So let us leave time just the peaceful way it is For all things are beautiful if they Are taken in reasonable doses And not mistreated or misunderstood Time The main factor of crow's feet On the other hand, time Is as bitter as it is sweet

Written for my dear friend who recently had his heart broken, and anyone else who is ready to give up on love... don't lose hope!! :) Enjoy <3 br="" nbsp=""> Love floods into our lives like a tidal wave of hope Only to crush our fragile bones to the ocean floor Love is so promising at first, until not all goes well And it gashes your back, flees, slams the door Nothing puts a smile on your face more than the thought That love is recycled and comes back around It appears when it is least expected One day, your soul mate will surely be found Do not worry, do not curse yourself Do not think of yourself as a foolish boy The one and only cure to a broken heart Is simply a glass full of anticipation and joy Life is not over, the birds keep on chirping They sing to the drum of your heart Know that, you are still yourself, you are still here Whether with someone, alone, or apart This journey of love, it is never ending Do not expect it to be pleasant all the way

Exam week has begun! Oh, the stress keeps building up! Also, this constant isolation from my friends and from regular school life has gotten me pretty down in the dumps. Sitting at home studying all day isn't all that fun... With no distractions except for history notes on my mind, I start looking back at past events- usually disturbing ones, that crowd my inner peace and totally distract me from studying! I'm actually supposed to be studying at the moment, but in order to achieve at least some peace I wrote a poem about this tunnel in my head... It seems like I'm over analayzing past situations over and over again and I'm sure that that's not healthy! You can't change what happened, but you can change what will be. Have to take my own advice sometimes! Ha, enjoy my poem. I am a prisoner of my mind I am a slave of my very own brain Flashbacks clog inner peace And restrain me from becoming sane Thoughts; they arrive with no knock on the door Barge in

I am in a particularly deep thinking/the world is beautiful mode, so I decided to write another one of those depressing/OMGWTF type of poems (: Just some thoughts that have been going through my mind that I decided to share with the 2-3 (4!!?) people who read this blog. Enjoy <3 br="" nbsp=""> Today, I looked at myself in the mirror. Not in a doing-my-makeup sort of way. No, this surpasses eyeliner of any kind Today, I learned who I am Hey, maybe I'm not that pretty after all Mom just tells me so just because she has to My grades? Average, nothing Harvard worthy Do I deserve the praise? Perhaps compliments means nothing. No matter how many times they tell me how special I am... I'm just one among the millions Of the people living in the world When I die, who will remember me? Over time, I will be forgotten And the only remains of me will be The waves in the stormy, rolling sea Those were my thoughts as I stared into my eyes. Just like daisies cry and

It is burdensome to believe, That 2009 is past tense now Nothing more but a legend Another chapter in life to write down Fireflies still murmur inside me... They say 2009 was anything but wasted time Alas, Earth disagrees; this year meant nothing But to me, it was a crucial escarpment to climb Now that the year is done, flashbacks reappear... Seeping into my brain like leeches in a bog Oh, how I must flee from these tormenting thoughts I barely see 2010 peaking from amidst the dark fog No, I'm not generally a nice person, but, people do change… Thank you to all who I've met this year, thank you to all my new friends It's always better to be together, after all To commemorate the minutes we’ve spent As I've mentioned before, we're living, we're breathing Is that not enough to bond and fail to remember the date? They're simply numbers on paper marking the sweet sunrise... Is it not more joyous to live than to constantly wait? White bla