Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Scattered Thoughts While on the TTC Subway/Bus/Streetcar Waiting for the subway . It's funny how the TV monitor screen says 5 minutes but I already see the lights coming through the tunnel. Trying to find a place to sit . Smelly guy. No. Homeless looking person. Uh... Dude who packed his entire life into his luggage bag. I'll just stand. The pole is warm . I wonder how many people didn't wash their hands after peeing . And touched this pole. And then licked their hands. God damn it I just scratched my face, I'm going to be infected with pee germs. Why is that guy staring at me? Is there something on my face? Stare at reflection in dark subway window. Looking good , looking good. Dude, turn down your music, I can hear Destiny's Child from here. New people coming into the train. Avoid eye contact at all costs . I just locked eyes with that girl for more than five seconds. AWKWARD . Put head down. Lift head back up. We made eye contact again. I'll just t...

He was the type of guy who would drink luke-warm Molson straight from the can. Then he would pass the can to me and I'd leave my strawberry lipstick on the rim. We'd sit there for hours staring at each other and it would be most natural silence. It made me feel at ease. Then one day he told me that he wanted to swim far away and I nodded and said I liked to swim too. We were young, you know. Youth is the deadliest disease. So we stripped to our underwear and he bit his lip when he noticed the blemish on the side of my hip. He pinched my stomach in a way that was both childish and suggestive. I smiled and said we should swim. The problem was that we had no idea where to swim to. We sat at the end of the dock half-dressed and split another Molson. It was hot as a cup of tea, as it was basking in the sun with us all day. But we were young and diagnosed with youth and infatuation.* He said that he loved me. And the step from infatuation to love is one that is large and full of ...

We like to wonder about what is to come Because the unknown is thrilling And the known is nothing but Stale coffee and broken staplers Every corner of my life has a dent in it Or a pothole or a mud stain or A dragon behind the door With great fangs and the back arched Waiting for things that haven't happened yet Worrying about things that might not happen And all these things are illusions Delusions Confusions They're a different sort of suffering Wondering what is to come Is a self injected needle filled with Blood from a dying pheasant As the bird wonders if it should Stray to the wolf's jaw or just wonder How it would be like to be brave (Or an idiot, you choose) Like a horse with blinders on And a flamethrower for a tail I speed towards uncertainty The hooves chaffed and the wings scorched And the rider gone astray Talking about the future Only my demise is certain And the rest is a brew Of good days and better days Days where I'm a ...

Like businessmen on their way to a funeral We had our hands crossed on our laps We had our lips zipped to a sulky slit We had our wings clipped to our backs I knew that the doom would be over soon Like a mother I shielded your fate I didn't want you to know my weakness For it showed as we opened the gates Like cowboys on the road to nirvana We had false hopes inside of our shoes We had love where our heads should've been We had red hands and we had no excuse As the gates opened I saw your face Split like a clay mug constructed by a kid The rays of sun clung to your eyelashes The spit of the gods cleansed your eyelids Like murderers we erased all we had seen We had our hands crossed behind our backs We had our lips pressed against each other We had our wings folded in our laps And our love was more futile than a clay mug And our hope was an addictive, impotent drug And our sense was forgotten on the side of the road And our love remai...

I decided to watch "The To-Do List" but I had pretty low expectations for it. The reviews were very mixed and I'm not usually into raunchy "American Pie-esque" movies. I was gladly surprised that this movie is not as shallow as it seems. It is about a teenage girl exploring her sexuality and dealing with pressure from her peers and family. She is a valedictorian and an overachiever, but she realizes that she underachieved in the romantic and sexual part of her life. She writes a list of sexual fantasies to fulfill before going to college. There were a few stereotypes brought up in the movie that irked me, though. The biggest misconception that this movie triggers is that smart girls don't get action. The main character, Brandy, is also called a "bitch" and "uptight" simply for being smart and successful. In truth, it's possible for a woman to be both intelligent and sexually experienced. Also, the sex scenes get a little ridiculous ...

I draw circles on my arms when I am bored I lay on the grass and I smile to the Lord Who may exist only in my head A flimsy deception hung by a thread I've been in a plane and looked to the sky Searching for angels that might pass me by But all I saw were clouds, empty and thick It seems for my whole life I've been tricked If God exists and is on the lookout for me Where was He when I was on a killing spree? Was He eating biscuits and drinking tea? When I cried and I lied, where was He? All I want is for Him to send me a sign A supernatural presence from the divine I want this mint tea to turn into red wine I want all the stars to shine and align All I want, dear Lord, is just one sign Philosophy class taught me there is no God The teachings and prayers are nothing but fraud A delusion that only the peasants applaud As any person could see that the bible is flawed Yet I want to believe that He really is here That my life has...

I fell in love, as one falls into a cauldron of brisket and bones. Fighting the fall left me impaired with three stitches on each breast. Only the psychopaths in dystopian fine art seem to understand me, as Real people are as fake as Gucci glass cases in Chinatown, Given that they are undeniably in denial and deny denying. It's that sort of thinking that puts doctors in chicken coops, you know. Veering away from this deceptive normality is the best I can do, Even though real people feast on the vulnerability of my complexities. Yes, the list can stretch long enough for St. Nicholas to read Of all the complexities of this tragically abnormal soul of mine, Unless I fall in love with another maniac in that boiling cauldron, of course.