Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

With Valentine’s Day coming near It is the perfect time to confess my love To the most famous man of this great land Embodying a nation that’s both strong and free Yes, Rob Ford, I declare my love for thee Even when I try to forget about your smile It shows up on the front page of the paper Your face shiny and pink like rose marble My heart begins to sting with envy That you’re having a great life without me Oh how I wish that you could see I’d cross bridges and mountains and LRTs for you I’d bash all the protesters outside City Hall for you Just to make you notice me Together, we could have dinners at Steak Queen We could conquer the gravy train We could conquer the world Alas, my unrequited love taunts me Even though I know you have More than you can eat at home Will you still be my Valentine?

Sitting in the waiting room Clock ticking on the wall Musky, heavy old perfume Drifting through the hall Carpet thick with dust Chair splitting at the seams Ginger cookies turned to crust Fresh milk rotted into cream Children playing with their dolls Ripping their bodies in two Clock keeps ticking on the wall We're still waiting in the queue This lady with a clipboard Calls out for a Dolore Again I've been ignored As Dolore walks out the door After days and days on end The lady greets me with a smile Finally I can attend What I've been missing this whole while She leads me through the door Which leads me to a beach A sandy white ocean shore A horizon hard to reach The waiting room is life All we know and all we see Is so trifling when we know We can't even see the sea

What a blessing it is to be part of this world Part of a bigger plan, something bigger than us It is humbling, rather than terrifying to know That our senses are limited and we know not much at all What a blessing it is to sail through life altogether Through its murky waters, calm waves and sea storms Knowing we are on the same ship, in the same sea The same love passes, one smile to another There is more to life than can be seen, or dreamed of Or tasted, or calculated, or measured, or interpreted A love that is tasteless but sweet A hope that is invisible but tender A spirit that is alive and forgiving What a blessing it is, to be part of God's plan

When I was four years old I didn't know what death was. I used to cut earthworms in half, just for fun. And even after they were chopped like slices of salami, they would still squirm around and I thought this was because they lived forever. My schoolteacher told me it was because they had eight hearts, but even if they survived my slaughter, they would eventually die because that's nature's way. When I was eight years old it dawned on me that the worms are no different from us. They live and eat and do their best to survive, and one day they get snatched by a bird or a disease and they turn into mush. A bird will eat me up one day, too. I, at age eight, became terrified of eternal darkness. When I was ten years old I attended a Catholic school where religion was a mandatory subject. My schoolteacher told me that when you die, you go to heaven, where you are happy and safe for all eternity. I was so excited by this idea that I wrote prayers down so that I could memorize