Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

When life gives you lemons, make a lemon tart Put your soul into it and devise a new art Always thought I was brave, I was smart Now it feels like I'm back to the start Now the anxiety, it comes in big waves The pity, the anger, the blame that I crave To my heart and emotions, I am but a slave Tail 'tween my legs when I misbehave Whose love it is that I seek? When I'm senseless, drooling and weak Last night I was there, on the peak Now I'm a nobody, a freak, a geek A sad ol' person who can barely speak A mouse that spits a barely audible squeak I squeeze sour lemons into my eyes To eradicate all the parts of me I despise The squabbles, the indecency, the lies My heart rate soaring up to the skies Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone But what if I am the fool, alone? The thoughts in my head, a dull drone Talking to myself on the phone Life gave me lemons and I ate them whole Now I'm paying the price with my soul An anxious wreck, shipwreck, on the tide ...

My thoughts quickly spiral and tumble down Making small, hollow sounds as they scatter On the jagged rocks and litter below Spiraled like scalloped potatoes, A snail’s shell, or a smooth staircase When spiraling, take a deep breath Remind yourself everything is as it should be As it was destined to be, meant to be As it so rightfully should be Then let go of the jagged rocks that weigh You down in your pockets Crack through the snail’s shells The spirals are all in your mind Because you’re a circle, complete, whole And nothing can crush you image source: https://www.shells-of-aquarius.com/snail-shells.html

They all want to takes pieces of me The bank won’t leave me be Neighbours won’t let me breathe Landladies calling me A fragment here, a small piece there To bosses, friends, and lovers To my pet and to my mother They all want pieces of me There’s not enough to go ‘round I hide in solace ‘til I’m found By exes, hexes, unanswered texts Cold calls, UPS guys, insurance guys Never knew it could hurt so much to cry Skeleton’s trembling and I don’t know why No more pieces to go ‘round No more of me to be shared I can barely cure my own heartache Can take the maximum I could take They say God never gives you more than you can bear But God never answered any of my prayers Fragments of me lining the street Pieces of my life on the wall, on the sheets Leaving a trail behind me as I embark On this new journey into the dark They all want to take pieces of me All I ever wanted was to be ...

Growing up is realizing that Everyone and everything is full of sh** You smile but you really want to quit This world of Netflix, movies, sex, fame Everyone listens to the same music Everyone is the same Growing up is knowing Life isn't just, it's the complete opposite of We get where we get because of the people we know Not due to our talents, & our beauty died long ago It's a slog, a daily grind The only time I see the sunshine Is when it streams from the window in the room Will I be working here 'til I'm in the tomb? Growing up is... terrifying But grown ups aren't afraid of dying So we eat, cry, drive, and pray Day by day by fateful day Make this acrid fear go away In my mind is where I want to stay Where the skies are forever grey

Before I went to university, I thought the whole four-year experience would look something like this: And on the odd occasion, there would be a little bit of studying involved, like this: (Seriously, why are university students always smiling in the grass in all university pamphlets!?) But, my university experience pretty much looked like this: When I first started university, I was striving to be the best, and I was thriving after repeated failures, visits to the writing centre, visits to professor office hours, and countless hours spent studying. Now, I'm just surviving university. The eager motivation I had as a freshman, second year, and even third year student has now worn off. The illusion is gone: of endless partying, drinking, carefree nonsense... well sure, I did some of that too, but I always felt a perpetual guilt when I wasn't studying. I didn't settle for Cs, I aimed for Bs. Then I stopped settling for Bs and only accepted As. I pus...

2016 is a big year for me and for most friends my age. 2016 means I'll transform from "Olga Taratuta, High School Graduate" to "Olga Taratuta, B.A." 2016 holds my future in its sweaty palms. The words "job," "money," "graduate school," and "scholarships" seem to have dominated my pool of vocabulary. 2016 is where I become a real adult, not the OSAP mooching fraud that I am now. But adulthood is a scam. It is a fable told by society to keep the economy in check. Adults are seduced by money. We become promiscuous, lurking the streets to make a buck.  My original goals for 2016 were to: A) Get into graduate school B) Get a job C) Get an apartment D) Save, save, save! Then I realized that all those goals are money-driven to some degree. They are but cookie cutter resolutions, such as "exercise more" or "lose 5 pounds." I will not make money by aiming to make money. I have realized this ...

I have started reading a book called "Help, Thanks, Wow." It is basically a how-to guide for prayer, geared towards spirituals and skeptics alike. The book tries to answer the difficult question: How do we pray? The author, Anne Lamott, recalls her childhood, growing up in an atheist household where only rock bands were worshipped and the New York Times was a temple. Feeling alone, lost, and caught in existential despair, Lamott "snuck off" into the attic to pray to God for help. Prayers for help humble us. They make us feel that the world is out of our control. The cosmos does not act in accordance with our wishes, and our prayers are not answered in the way we would like them to be. Thomas Merton's prayer reads: "My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me" (Lamott 33). Just by reading the "Help" chapter, I realized why I have trouble with uncertainty. Because it is admitting defeat. It is admittin...

I remember the days when I was scared of ghosts After watching a marathon of poltergeist movies About hauntings in strange homes My juvenile friends and I couldn't get to sleep And we'd squeal at every creak creak  On the floor board I'd sleep with a night light on  The one with Winnie the Pooh reading a story to Piglet Yet I'd still lose sleep I was so scared of the ghosts that were out to get me Now I want the ghosts to get me I don't even understand what I was scared of I want ghosts to haunt my house I want ghosts to transcend their world and show their white faces Hell, I want poltergeists to mess my whole room up Because, see, if ghosts don't exist Then why should anything invisible exist, too? What you see is what you know But I don't see love, so how do I know it's there? What if love is just a ghost?  What if "love" is what we label that chemical reaction in our brains that sparks fondness? And...

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 ...

I have a dysfunctional relationship with Time Sometimes I like to play hide and seek with Time Time hides, and I try to find it I see it peeking from behind the curtains But I treat Time like a child, and I say 'Time, oh Time! Where are you?' Time just stands still, trying not to be seen And with Time frozen, I have all the time I can dream of At other times, I wish Time would move along I look at the clock as it mocks me with its tick tock As I'm stuck in a store folding socks And I dream of a day when I will be a somebody A businesswoman with a brief case and a somebody at her side And one day I can create another somebody Alas, it takes time to get promoted from being a nobody Sometimes I wish Time would turn back Because in retrospect everything seems serene What was once a heart ache is now petty What was at one time a death note is now a joke How I wish Time would comfort the poor younger me Time would say, 'Time moves on! Time heals all scar...

A hermit crab dances solo on the seashore. It is desperate and confused, and it has grown out of its feeble shell, which lies in fragments underneath its claws. The crab, not knowing what to cling on to, reaches out for anything that passes by. Any breathing creatures becomes its friend and any tin can or roadside trash becomes its home. This is the danger of desperation. Alas, this confusion is a weakness of human emotion. We keep falling and falling, as in a trance, like in those dreams where one falls and then wakes up coated with sweat. But we never really rise from this continuous fall. As we fall in love- with faith or hope or passion or agony- we pray to keep falling and never reach the pits. Never static, always confused, always dumb, homeless hermit crabs without a purpose. This is human emotion; a desperate search to make sense of things that are beyond our control.

Yes, chivalry is dead because it was never alive. Besides, we are not knights and princesses; we are confused young adults, always looking for a convenient distraction. I hate the word "convenient." It reminds me of a gas station convenience store, with cameras installed to the ceilings, and a unisex washroom with a rickety door. This is convenience. Beef jerky on the side of the road and a quick fix of Redbull. Convenient. I can distract myself with hours of brainless television. A few hazy nights spent at the entertainment district with the bass pounding every molecule of anxiety out of me. I can jog with headphones in my ears and my back dripping with sweat. I can spend a ridiculously long time preparing a garden salad while watching a rom com from the corner of my eye. I can soak in strawberry scented bubble bath and hum to myself. I can do all these things but I will never be able to fool my own mind. I will always seek another distraction. What am I distracting ...

When the snake slithers under my door, let him do it Let him test how much I can take, take my heart and chew it When the clock ticks and time gets too thick to erase Let him steal all my time away and call it the chase When my self esteem withers away, help me do it Assist me as I take the world in my hands and say screw it When the snake poisons my vein, let him do it It's just a small sacrifice for the pain, no more to it Injected with this liquid that makes me another me Rejected by this twisted ghost and I become my enemy Long ago, I thought I was stronger But I can't take the grief any longer Passion or cocaine, same drug different name I am the only person to blame for the pain So when the snake slithers into my chest, let him do it Let him cut out my weak heart and chew it, Nothing more to it.

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...

The world used to be full of people People who ate and talked and lived They all had the same haircut and black loafers They never cut their fingernails   They carved their names into tree trunks for fun They fished to replenish their stomachs The world used to be full of these people Where have these carefree people gone? We have been cursed with external attraction Even animalistic desires are less brutish Than the images we digest Of people who are not really people People who are trapped in tight cow skins Strangled in bow ties and neck ties Wearing heels that could be used for combat People who are stringed together by bones Nothing more, nothing less Bones, skin, muscle, fat A concoction of body parts That are labeled and shipped off To find a soul mate: a lover of bones All we see is the external attraction Things that we don’t see, don’t exist, right? Ghosts and werewolves Witches and spirits God and morality No, there ...