Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Like an alchemist, She had the power To change things From mundane to Beautiful; from a Serpent into a Dove; from a daisy Into a bouquet From a stone brick Into a diamond She had the power Of witchcraft and She loved the way She could use men As puppets and Women as bait Worms on a hook Pierced through the Heart. Little did she Know that a worm Has eight hearts And the men had None She loved love But was never  In love; except  with  Herself; she ate Hearts for breakfast; Legs for dessert; Like an alchemist, She changed things From ordinary To the otherworldly; Spending days And nights in the  Cold cellar where she  Worked; turning shame Into gold medallions; Morphing pain into Sterling; changing Lust into love, Selling it in batches To the men  And the women So desperate for Someone to  Hold Im...

No, he didn't treat you like a friend, Because he neither cared for you nor took care of you when your heart bled. He didn't treat you like a lover, Because, like a werewolf, he turned into human form only in the sunlight, and he escaped before you could see, in its entirety, the beast that you had spent the night with. He didn't treat you like a God, Because he neither feared you, nor respected you. He didn't even try to disprove your very being. It was not even worth it. He was the one you called "home," honey I'm home, home sweet home, A home with a welcome mat stained with reminders that you are not his home, but his backyard, an old tire swing just for fun. You love thy neighbour, and forgive thy enemy, and bleed when his heart bleeds, But he does not exist. Opposite to a god, he fears himself, and disrespects himself, He is homeless, for fear of getting caught in the honey at the door, when he says, honey I'm home! Like a poor ...

There was something about the way he talked. He made anyone who was near him feel a sudden sense of unease. The way his words shot from his mouth like hot bullets, maiming all those who were in his proximity. There was this peculiar way he squinted his eyes so you weren’t sure if he was falling asleep or straining his eyelids to keep himself focused on evildoing.             He was the type of man who didn’t believe in God. He was cynical about absolutely everything, from the long line up at the coffee shop to the very meaning of existence. In fact, he told me that he killed God. We were sitting out on the front porch one nigh staring at the stars. What do you see up there? he asked me. The heavens, I said. He smirked and told me that he killed God long ago. I thought the idea was impossible. And then he said in a suddenly stern voice: I have something to tell you. Because I’m wiser than you. I’m a man. I’ve been through more tha...

Over the years, I have met many people. I have also known many others. Then there are are the few who I had befriended, and for some period of my life they were my role models, companions, and temporary acquaintances with whom I identified with. And the more people I got to know, the more I started to realize how much we are all alike. I'm not sure whether this revelation is a result of my slow progress into emotional maturity, or perhaps it is a fleeting thought. But it dawned upon me how truly messed up we all are. As a hopeless romantic and a stingy perfectionist, I have sailed through life, thus far, searching for a seedling of sanity in this raging sea of lunatics. Alas, the water would never settle. Little did I know that the water was calm all along, and the unforgiving sea was just my own reflection. I can say, without exaggerating, that I have much fewer friends now than ever before. I have become the person that I had loathed as a whiny teen- I am the person who ins...

I don't know about many things. I don't know what I want my future to look like. I don't even know what shoes I want to wear tomorrow. Then there are things that nobody can ever know. Like how the sun looks like up close. Or how it feels like to sit in a corner of the Milky Way. I will probably never know how it's like to be a billionaire or a celebrity. I don't know when I'll die and I don't know if I'll go to heaven or hell. I'm not even sure if either exist. I don't know if I'm a good person. I don't know who I will see in the mirror tomorrow. I don't know if I will live to see another winter day. Will I be able to tell my grandchildren the tale? I don't know what the ocean's abyss looks like. I will never know how it's like to step foot on another planet. There is just so much that I don't know, and it taunts me. All I know is that I've already felt the sun up close because I've felt its warmth in your ...

I know you’re cheating on me with the game This foolishness is driving me insane If the taste of beer is sweeter than me Then kiss the keg and leave me be Love deprived, you’re a sad bitter man A lonely, sleazy Maple Leafs fan Half-undressed, I stand at the door You say move, honey, game starts at four I know that your friends will come over soon You’ll cheer on the team and yell like baboons Your life goals reflect your poor persona You can’t even choose- Guinness or Corona You’ve worn the same jersey for three days now You’ve fed on nothing but frat boy chow (Mr. Noodles, hot dogs, and leftover steak And last month’s strawberry birthday cake) It hits twelve pm and you still hit snooze If they lose, you drown your tears with booze And if they win, you celebrate with the gin Who do you love more- me or Fenton? I’m not sure why I haven’t left you yet But at a hockey game is where we first met

In high school, the "university experience" was mystical. It was something that was on everyone's tongues throughout senior year. We'd fantasize about the parties we'd attend, the friends we'd meet, and the freedom we'd have away from public education. We'd go to university fairs and university representatives would come to our high school, shoving colourful pamphlets in our faces featuring smiling students sitting in poppy fields with books in their hands. University. A new chapter in my life. A step into adulthood. And it is nothing as I expected it to be, nothing like the candied university booklets I received by the dozen in high school. Here are some raw facts about university life, and the things I learned during my freshman year: The "university experience" is mostly one of cramming for tests and exams. In high school, you may have had a test every now and then, and exam periods once during a 5-month semester. In university, you ha...

           There were two people at the beginning of time- a man and a woman. They were cold to each other. They slept on opposite sides of the creek and each one of them scavenged for food on their own. There was an abundance of plants and animals that they could choose from. Although they were young, they suffered. They knew no other life but this one. They settled in this lonely paradise, accepting it as their only reality. They didn’t communicate with each other because they were too scared to. People are wild and unpredictable. They can be boiling teakettles one day and sanguine sloths the next. It is indisputably easier to avoid the complexities of human nature entirely.             One day, a heavy storm hit the land, and the man and woman huddled together beneath the leafiest tree they could find. The man took the woman’s hand and breathed on it, making it warm. They looked into ea...

Love: How that word slides off the tongue, Like a licorice serpent rolling along. Disheartening prune ladies, intriguing the young, Bewildering the brave and the strong. We all seek to find it, though it might not exist, We dig in trenches with leeches. We journey along from the moment we’re kissed, Striving for lips that taste of peaches. The man next door has found true love with his cats, He dresses them in ties and tuxedos. He pours them tea and sits cross-legged eating rats, While they feast on mice stuffed burritos. Multiple loves belong to little Dee down the street, She invites boys to her orange juice stand. The nectar of her voice and her fingers so sweet, The boys leave with their hearts in their hands. Mrs. Prunella has wrinkles in which teardrops settle, She has not a mirror in her home. At times she purposely forgets to turn off the kettle, So the fireman can save her from being alone. The Mulroneys have been married for twenty odd years, And th...