Here are some of the poems that I wrote in English. This section is regularly updated. New poems are at the end of the thread.


When he finishes his cigarette
She is going to say to him: “Nyet”.
“Nyet” is a “no”, an elegant end to his hopes,
“Nyet” means nothing is ever going to happen.
He shouldn’t have missed her boat
A few autumns ago when the time was right.
Should have read the timetable better,
It clearly states: “Boats only once a year”.
Please, forgive her, but her answer is: “Nyet”.


When he finishes his cigarette,
He knows she is going to say to him: “Nyet”
Has a “no” stopped him before?
Yes, it did…
There is nothing to lose, therefore.
Should walk across the icy lake
Without a boat
To her shore.





In a mirror opposite (what looks like) my bed

I can see crisp white crumpled sheets

And a girl who seems just like me,

She even has got my name.

The same body, the same face, the same laughter…

Except that I am not laughing.

She is watching a man getting dressed by her side,

Putting on a blue shirt and a tight English tie.

That man knows she is a bit wild for him but he is fine,

Getting used now to never being on time…

<Work can wait.>

She is leaning forward to seal his lips with her kiss,

Gently taking off his shirt she ties him up with his tie…

<Then she pauses.>

Feeling the presence of me in her reflection,

She throws her shoes into my looking glass

Which is breaking while he is allowed to witness

How I am being smashed into pieces all over her life.

I know her, I am almost her, I am her reflection,

I am what she keeps in brackets (when she is out),

I am her best companion wherever she goes…

And yet, there is nothing I can do

If she wants to stay with him. On her own.



Night, champagne, men… and that very man
Standing not by himself at the bar.
I am there, I want him to know, so I say:
“We have nothing to say to each other, my love”.
He confirms that by nodding at me…. and his friends,
Turns away and drinks, more and more.

Then, I leave.
And he leaves.

We happen to take the same car.

He happens to have my keys.

I happen to care of the past.

And he wishes to remind me of it.

Sweet and sour,
Pleasure, pain,
Pleasure first,
Pain is late.

Pain comes on its own.
He is never there when it arrives.

So, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure.

Night is about to finish…

“I was thinking of you”, – he says,
“Stop”, – I say,
“I was… I was thinking of you in the night, many nights”,
“I was thinking of you many days…”
“Stop”, – now he prays.
“Night is over”.
“Night is over”.

Night is over.
He never liked morning rays.


The night could have shared us with each other,
It could have buried us from the world for many weeks,
You could have been licking off my covers,
And spreading chocolate heat all over my lips.

It could have been short and quick, and powerful,
It could have been tender, mild and soft,
We could have been blowing ourselves into fireworks,
And hiding afterwards in the loft.

And here I am tied up and tortured
In my own mind and by myself,
And there you are arrogant and nurtured
Living your whole life on a shelf.

We could have had whatever happens,
We could have spent our youth away,
We could have lifted all our vetoes
Had our passion been easy to play.

NOTES for N.

It was wrong…

We shouldn’t have…

It was short, and strange, and passing…

Now I’m deaf

And you are blind

Trying to forget trespassing…

It was wrong…

But it felt right…

It was soft and felt like blessings…

Now I’m restless

And you are sad

As the memories are chasing…


I am,

And I was,

And I dare be

The One and Only for you.

There on your sofa you lie at my feet…

That’s the way you love it,

I know it’s true.

Always on a leash,

Waiting for my orders,

Protecting my bodyline,

And my borders,

You are prepared to kill

For my laugh.

And no –

You are not a puppy.

Not a puppy at all,

In fact.

You are a big, very big, big, big, MASSIVE

And in certain circles a highly respectable -

Whoof, whoof -

A huuuugely respectable



I have found my love,

It seems perfect and happy.

I am walking,

And talking,

And thinking

Together with him.

Together with him I am napping.

But what is it happening with me?!

In his voice-

I hear yours,

In his smile -

I see your smile,

Through his love -

I get closer to you.

I love you more and more with every day

That I am walking,

And talking,

And thinking

Together with him.


Our love cannot be reanimated.
With absence of care, no attention paid
It has been too unhappy with us, too frustrated!
We were not in love engaged.
It has died today, in the morning…
I was alone guarding near its bed,
You were visiting friends in Wyoming…
Our love is now dead.
Our love is dead, don’t shake, don’t touch it!
Lying pale it is, pretty pale, really tired, sad,
Has suffered so much, poor thing with poor life, wretched..
Our love is dead.
Decorated with flowers and songs its tomb stands at our lives’ corner….
For the last time perhaps making love will not be bad??
Let’s try it for tomorrow’s funerals in love’s honour!
At the funerals.
With our love dead.
We will put a veil on love and a gorgeous wedding white dress..
Good idea it is! Surely, a success! God bless!
All our lovers will be invited to be our guests,
At the farewell party to drink at our love’s expense….

But hey! Who let these tears on my cheeks through my eyes?
Who let you crying, too, weeping, man chilly?
Do we want to say sorry? sorry for anger? sorry for lies?
Or do we simply wash out the remnants of feelings?


Sad wind blows autumn into us,
Indifference is mellowing…
Green leaves of love fall into loss
Obtaining faded yellow.
Who is to blame for passion gone?
What for to blame?


I am walking along the street
Watching you walking away,
I am not asking you to stay,
Far from falling at your feet.

A year went by, and there I am
Following the very same sunny street
That I was walking all alone along
When I was watching you walking away.
Following your footprints of last spring
There I am in a little black dress,
Smoking a cigarette, with a cross on my chest,
Going on a same route again.

On the very same prolonged memories’ night,
Windows of your house will be left open
To the moon of another town.
Always arrogant but polite
You knew you had to remember me on your own.
And your coffee is going to go cold
When you put a drop of tears in it.
You were avid with emotions,
You are avid with tears.
Only one drop of regret of how once on a sunny day
We didn’t notice that we felt.


You found the way out of this labyrinth,

And the answer is so simple:

There is no answer;

There is no way out.

Once you stop treating labyrinth as such,

You realize that the only way out

Has been your own way in,

The beginning of your life.


On a sandy shore of a distant island,
There was a girl slowly flourishing,
Waiting for white orchids to grow in her hair,
Red roses to brighten her cheeks,
And a golden tan to touch her stem.

On a canvas of a bright blue sky
With a brush of sticky white clouds,
There was a man defining her contours,
Filling up with invisible kisses
The unfinished surface of her evolving mouth.

He was painting her portrait secretly,
Unable to cope with a sudden talent,
Scared of picking it up, and dropping,
And trampling it down
Into the mud of routine and habit.

With the sounds of passion tearing his chest,
He wanted to shout he couldn’t live without her
But he didn’t dare whisper a single word,
Thus recalling the silent cries of seagulls
On the wallpaper of his bedroom
In another town of another life
When he was there imagining what it would be like
To be with a woman he loved.

Furious to lose her out of his picture,
He was not ready to let her into his house,
Even though she smelled of orchids and roses,
Even though she brought the sunshine back to his mornings.
He was thinking of hiding her portrait,
Leaving her tied up, with it, to a tree in the woods,
Where only God could see them – and no men.

They were together on that distant island,
They were together on that distant island,
But they didn’t know each other, yet.


I was standing on the bridge alone,

I was with you.

It was 2010 for me

But it wasn’t for you.

It was a clean clear cut

But you didn’t forgive.

I wanted to move on then

But you didn’t let me leave.

You held my hand from the past,

From all those years,

From the moment you said hello,

From the day we met.

Cars were passing past fast,

And so did our life.

I wanted to jump and break free,

But the bridge was high…


Only time could stop

You driving yourself up my wall,

I made it very slippery

So that you could fall,

I made it very dangerous

So that you would flip.

But you were too basic

To have noticed the trick.

You should have used zero logic,

Pure emotion, the lack of judgement and no luck;

And filled my ears up with rubbish,

Ugly nonsense, lies and small talk.

I couldn’t blame myself for anything

As there was no end, no start, and no ‘us’;

But you insisted on blending colours,

Painting a masterpiece!

While I was asking for disobedience and mistrust.


You should have lost your keys to magic,

Cut corners, cut no ice and cut short.

I find this story fabulously tragic,

Come back when you re-write yourself and learn to distort.


One stop away from your derelict station

I have decided it’s time to get off,

Absence of fear in my hesitation

Points to the line I am willing to cross.

Drawing the line isn’t easy, believe me.

It is a crack in the surface of earth,

It is a crack in the depth of my feelings,

It is a death, a dejection, – a loss.

And when I cross it, I know for certain

There will be no come back and re-try.

Show is over, down the curtain,

Kiss on the lips, – and forever goodbye.


Listen; here is your voucher –

Come and get my soul;

Plus a twenty per cent discount

If you are dark and cold.

Shipping a free order

To your address in hell…

I know you can’t afford it

But I’m not here to sell.

I trade away reluctantly,

I trade away for free,

Soul doesn’t mean anything,

It’s just a nominal fee.


Take me out of my covers,

Spread me on your table cloth.

Make us rude and fierce lovers

Glued for life in love and loath.

Then declare yourself my master,

There is no stop to lust.

Whip is fast but you are faster,

Your desire holds my trust.

Tie me up so that it’s hurting,

Hit me as hard as you can,

Let me be your toy diverting,

Handcuffed with a golden chain.

Then I’ll take revenge in silence,

Then you will be on your knees,

Double pleasure in my violence,

Power is mine, remember this.

When you come next time – surrender:

I am here for you to stay.

I can be as vile and tender

As you wish… – if you obey.


Evenings are pouring alcohol into my open mouth,

I am ecstatic with the fake affections they drown me in,

Evenings are dressing me into glittery ball gowns,

And forbid me sweeping moonlight off these streets.

I want dark night to come and savage mindless evenings,

I want dark night to eat their cursed heart and feeble flesh.

I yearn for a new shade of dull, well-known meanings,

In a mundane stupidity I search for a genuine flash of fresh.

Evenings are known for shredding words and wasting glances,

Evenings enjoy adding insignificance to what is right,

I want people to learn to forget them, and take chances

With a new world of no mediums in days and nights.


We can argue,

We can quarrel forever,

We can break up and stop talking for good.

But sooner or later,

In such a small world we live,

Our paths will cross…

We will chance upon each other,

Accidentally notice one another

In a crowded bar

While waiting for a friend or a date…

I will be in a short summer dress;

You can be in your stripy blue shirt

The one that you love wearing

With the cufflinks I once gave you

Hoping they will link us for life…

They didn’t.

One glance we will throw at one another,

Only one simple glance without memories,

Spared of history between us,

One glance as if we have only just met

And have only known lust…

One glance – we cannot stop or help it -

We will inevitably seize being able to forget

How good it was to kiss those lips,

How good it felt to touch your sKim,

How I was running out of breath

When you looked at me the way you did.

We swore never to speak again

But when passion comes back

There is no way out of it for anyone,

The only way is back.


I am dressed in your touches.

Naked I feel covered.

I feel more covered naked

Than when I am wearing real clothes.

Clothes are dull.

Clothes are for mundane people.

Not for you and I…

You are sealed as mine -

With a bright red mark of my lips

On your naked tanned sKim;

I am sealed as mine -

With a promise of no promises.

I enjoy being disobedient.

You enjoy making me listen.

I enjoy you making me do what I don’t want,

And making me enjoy doing that.

Wearing nothing we are in bed and in a restaurant.

We are in a park naked, having a picnic.

Wearing nothing we talk to other people….

In each other’s eyes we are always naked:

A kiss and a touch is more than enough.


I will never look into your eyes again.

I firmly promise this to myself.

I won’t avoid looking at your face.

But looking into your eyes was a mistake.

That was how I lost control,

And you got power over me - and more.

That is how I’ve been heading for a fall,

And in our little game you’ve been leading in score.

You submitted me the way you talked to me,

Silently you talked to me, dipping your whole self into my world.

I sold myself for lust to you, the worst of all enemies,

Putting chemistry prior to anything, and all my character on hold.

Without my permission my neck received a tight leather collar

With a long solid heavy chain firmly in your hands again.

Without my admission, you were pulling strings back and forward.

Yes, torture is fun. But without fun torture is pain.

From now on, my body refuses to want to be touched.

Here I am signing my own lifelong plea:

There is no winning in our exhausting fight,

Just kiss me once and set me free.

PR Oddly.

Proudly. You are wearing a label of a human being -

On your soul made of sweet dreams, smiles and hopes,

On this piece of meat with jaded sKim and jaded feelings,

Sliding downhill in life on a black run of its rocky slopes.


Proudly. You’re wearing a label of nature’s master,

And yet you’re a slave – abused – but fed and full,

Sleep-walking into unknown success and familiar disasters,

Politically correct and out-of-passions fool.


Proudly. Coward of a human that insists on being

With a detrimental inability of acting like one should,

Vegetable-to-be, slave now and a former human with no meaning,

You are just like all of us… Look around, and be rude.


I’ve noticed that whenever I see you

You like borrowing my sense

(Thus, I stop making it)

You wear it inside out

And then return it to me

For me to live my life

With my senses literally worn out.

How do you think that feels?

And you also like taking my heart,

Without asking, stealing it away,

And never returning.

How do you think that feels?

To live your life with a hole

Instead of where the heart used to sit and pulse?

It feels pretty damn empty, I tell you.

And I have to fill it in with a laughing gas,

So I do that, and laugh instead of feeling hollow.

I also have noticed that the way you look at me,

Whenever you look at me, you claim power over me.

How do you think that feels?

To be at your power, within your reach and at your service.

How do you think that feels?

To be yours, forever and ever?

- It feels good. -


Thrown onto the streets, surrounded by high walls

Alone, inspite of all its grandeur and high ceilings,

In this town of shared passion and frequent love,

There stands my house of frozen feelings.


You didn’t notice my open door, kid,

You are still with her, whatever, be it,

Threw snowballs straight into my window,

Smash – broken glass – within a minute.


I don’t live there anymore, I got bored…

My door is locked, and the key is buried.

I have moved out and moved on;

I stopped believing in vicious, lying magic fairies.


I thought I completely moved on,

And I did, after all those years apart,

My show was still going on,

But nobody’s managed to steal my heart.


You were seeing another girl,

Are seeing? Or maybe have been?

It is easy to twist and twirl

When the other side cannot stop believing.


My best friend did not understand me

He thought I liked you for your glitter and gloss;

The truth is: the negative side of your ‘cool factor’

To me, in many aspects, outweighs the pros.


I like you because you are not ‘like them’.

Unlike the rest of a typical kings road crowd,

You are Kimd, able to think, and your character has a stem,

I respect you, and you make me proud.


Sad to admit: I was scared to open up to you,

Didn’t want you to see me as a different league,

I hardly ever doubt myself, in fact.

But when I am around you I am out of control and weak.


I can sense – and maybe I am wrong – forgive me,

I feel that I can somehow read your thoughts,

And what I am hearing about myself upsets me,

I hear you thinking that I am not – and will never be – ‘your sort’.


No matter how far I fly, how high I jump,

It helps, but I will always be a different bird,

The one that is good for hunting but that is as far as it goes,

And the line between us will never be blurred.


With such a carefully selected group of friends,

Where the entrance is through an interview crop,

People say it is only possible to go a floor down

If you are confident nobody can tell you where to shop.


So, when you suddenly kissed me,

Soft kiss at first, and then got feistier, bolder, faster;

After all, it is hard to resist when a girl finds a man

Able to tame her into being her Master.


So, when you suddenly kissed me,

With months and years gone and lost in a whirl,

I now know you didn’t really care and didn’t really mean it,

In the very same manner you’d have enjoyed any other girl.


You didn’t really want to try to get to know me;

You didn’t press ‘play’ before pressing ‘eject’;

I’ve been a bit slow, and started to understand this rule only now:

People, who met against all odds, should never have met.


“Never say never”.

I have “never” said.

Thought it was not in my fate -

Or nature – to do it.

Fate has never been up to me.

And my nature only fate knows.


It was so simple, easy.

He was there – I was alone.

He insisted.


You can call it “a sin”.

Why not? I used to.


I believed. I hoped. I was romantic.

Spoilt rotten with irresponsible fairy-tales

About some prince on a white horse

On a mission to rescue his princess.

I wasn’t a princess.

I didn’t need to be rescued.

But… I believed. I hoped. I was romantic.


“He will find you,” Mummy always said.

“Who is “He”?”

“You will know it when you meet Him.”

I thought He would know too…

Happy bullshit fed to a hungry fantasy.

I believed.


Moonlight walks hand in hand…

Master and Margarita. Almost.

Now I prefer dark rooms with all lights off.

And no stars outside. Please.

I hoped.


Flower withering in my vase,

Silently, and alone, stubbornly proud,

Exuding the most intoxicating odeur.

I bought it, and I am enjoying its death,

I have the right to.

Days pass, nights have already passed.

“What do you see in me?”


I was romantic….



Faced with reality,

Our passion has sobered up,

And so did we…

Reality always meets excitement

On the finishing line of its fast-paced run.

Excitement doesn’t last,

News become history,

Victory shrinks to a trophy,

Once so delightful – made us happy -

Now left on a dusty shelf of old texts

Where our excitement is commemorated in words,

Like a memorial on the cemetery of feelings.

I don’t want to delete those texts, sorry.

It’s like wiping memory cards off our minds.

Faces are gone, words are gone, and then what?

A question whether we have ever existed?

Why is it so important for us to remember that we have existed?

That we haven’t wasted those minutes? Lived.

Why can’t we just do that? Build our own reality.



You used to say:

“You are one in a million!”


That you can wank off at the mere thought of me,

That you get hard when someone mentions my name,


To chain me, to punish me, to teach me,

To take me through a beautiful hell.

I found it all so romantic and wonderful.

No irony.

You treated me like a man should:

A lady at all times but a whore in the bedroom.

And I have never even cooked for you.

Today you left,

Left me with a non-making-sense:

“I won’t miss you at all”.

You didn’t say it – radio did,

But you agreed, nodded.

Tomorrow you returned.

Couldn’t fight it, called it “addiction”,

Believed that “we only live once”.

I couldn’t stop you – you liberated me -

How could I go back into the cage

Of stereotypes, and imposed rules,

Abusive stability that kills our freedom,

You made me happy when I thought nothing could.

Not only physical but also a Kimship of spirits.

Pulled me out of my fall, and I was grateful.

But today and tomorrow – especially tomorrow –

I knew you hated me.

Despised me for being here for you,

For being available,

For not stopping you from yourself,

Your lover, your mistress, your mistake.

You returned, but sex lost its colouring,

Lost its chains, charms, and its power,

Lost itself, lost us, has become pointless,

Asexual, tired, fake, foreign, alien, not ours,

Or in other words

Just a habit that we developed,

Like the habit you have with her.

When it was passion it wasn’t a sin,

Now it is.



And there she was…

Walking along a wide green field,

With her shoes in her hands,

And her heart in her mouth.

Hungry, happy and helpless,

Painfully jealous of herself,

Due to eat her heart out.

Also due – to give birth.

She was walking along a wide green field,

Baby somewhere inside waiting,

While her heart was pulsating and bleeding,

In her mouth.

Oh, the taste of life is so sweet.



Empty words demand attention,

Eyes are asking for feedback,

People waiting for reaction,

Knives being thrown at your back.

This is known as “being social”,

Talk the talk and smile the smile,

God forbid being controversial,

Culprits sent into exile.

“How you’ve been?”

“Hello, my dear!”

Mwah – mwah – mwah,

“You’re looking well…”

Friends indeed are those who cheer,

Friends in need can go to hell.

Put a mask before going out,

Put another one on top,

When you’re facing faceless crowd

Drink and dance should never stop.