Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

A frog can use its eyes to look around. It sees everything. The swamp, the flies, Its prey, its frog friends, its predators, The frog sees everything except for What is directly in front of its face. This is why you can catch a frog Very easily. Not by sneaking up on it From behind or from underneath Or by plotting a way to confuse it. It's easy. Just catch it by cupping Your palms over its face, and It won't even see it coming. That's life, that's my life, I'm a Frog and life wraps its fingers around me In the most conspicuous way. And I Don't fight it because I can't see What's ahead. Like a frog I see what Is the present, in the moment, with Complete ignorance of the danger that Lurks directly in front of me. Of the Hand that holds my destiny. That has The power to trap me and never let me go.

The empty sidewalks, the leering stares Not scared anymore, nobody cares Can it just be me and the moon Why does the sun have to come so soon I used to have dreams, now my mind's gone Seems like the crazy in my head has won The silhouettes on the wall are my friends Those lonely romances, too, come to an end Let the darkness envelope me, keep me warm Let my insanity keep me away from the storm Trying not to look at all I've left behind Don't feel pity, just look after me, I'm blind Keep marching on without destination Succumbing to every inclination Dissect every flaw, every whisper of fear Keep my mind foggy, keep my thoughts clear Wishing I had no memory Wishing I had no sympathy Can this feeling that I can't comprehend Be killed, mutilated, put to an end? Can it be walked out? Talked out? Can it be drunk, drunk, drunk and knocked out? My mind is just a hamster wheel Getting tired, when really all I feel Is insomnia and a case of common sen

I'm not a role model, an intellectual, a poet. I'm not a good person and I'm not an evil person. I am just a member of the species  Homo sapiens . I am blood, guts, and bone. I am an amusement park of veins. My heart feels no pain or pleasure; my heart just pumps blood. It would be silly to think that there is a deeper purpose, when I am a bundle of nerves wrapped in naked, papery skin. Why would I be part of a grandiose plan? I am just an animal. There is no logic in the animal kingdom. There is no philosophy and no art; just a hierarchy of animals that kill and eat one another. We are part of that kingdom. Maybe Hobbes was right. Without security, we would be cannibals. Without morals, we would be foxes. Without politics, we would be wild. We are wild. We are not ladies and gentlemen. We are panthers and wolves. We huddle in packs and howl at midnight just for the fun of it. We flee from danger by scurrying away like scared little squirrels. We would do anything for o