Babushka (Grandma)

This is just a poem that i wrote after my grandmother died not long ago.

The silky wind brushes your skin
The golden sun carresses your lips
But you do not feel it
The rain falls down on your grey head
The snow freezes your white hands
But you do not feel it
The seasons come and seasons go
The weather changes with the flow
But you do not feel it
You lived a long and harsh life
You lost a lot of friend and foes aside
But you will never know
How much I miss you
Now that you are gone.

R.I.P Natalia Gregorivna Baranova
1916-1994

Mama

Train please stop
Wheels dont bang
Conductor hit the brakes
I am coming to see
My dear mama
With my last words
In a hurry to see her pretty eyes
Dont wait for me mama
Your good son
Your son is not like he was yesterday
I got sucked in
In dangerous buisness
And life
Is my never ending game

The Good Night.

Ciggarette flikering in the dim
The wind threw the ash in my face
The burning filter
Left a burn on my finger
The steel door squeaked
IT opened
Your are walking towards me
Your are mine now
I feel a pleasant sensation
From head to toe
You are with me
Forget about everything
Its the night
But will seem like a dream
I will take you
And hold you close
Like my dear daughter
We will get hugged by the ciggarete smoke
You will leave as soon as the sun rises
The prints on the bed
Will remind me of a good night
Irradating moon light
Its hard for me to say no to you
Swiftly your clothes will come off
And cover the floor
The night wind
Will mute our moans
The strong rush of blood
Will hit my heart
And I will remember
The good night.



And swiftly your clothes will cover the floor

Times are good and bad.

Times are good and bad
Sometimes happy
Sometimes sad
I think of you
It makes me blue
Because you are not here with me
I remember the times we had
Sometimes happy
Sometimes sad
But no matter what I'd do
You'd always pull through
And be there with me
Now those times are gone
And it makes me think
Will I ever be free
From the chains
To which you
Hold the key

Coffee

Just a little something that we can all relate to in the morning before poetry class :)

Sweet aroma rising up
Touching the senses
Waking me up
Black or mixed
Doesnt matter
The fresh taste
Gets me awake
Just one sip
Puts a smile
On my face
After one cup
I am ready to go
To Englsih 2110
At 9:30 am

4:45am

This is just a little something that I decided to wrtie at 4:45 in the morning on the reflection of a man who cant sleep due to a personal connection with another.

It's getting late
Time to sleep
But everytime I close my eyes
I see you in front of me
I feel your touch on my skin
Even though you are not here
I still feel you deep inside me
I know you are with someone else
My mind says stop
My heart believes otherwise
And it hurts so bad
Through all the times we had
Bad or good you were always there
Now you are gone
And I know its for the last time