Wednesday, 18 April 2012

The Reality


A wooden shed and a tree
A bucket of water and a cloth across the table

Red soil and deathly air
Richness of soil and the poignant smell of rooting flesh

The blood current of the river and beating sun heat
The tremor of their blood has stopped and their heartless bodies and derived bones are in a heap
that is slowly slowly disintegrating itself and the fumes like that of an old steamer train  

Nothing moves in the ugly stillness of the land and air
Birds? There is not any…because…well I’ll let you latter
The lives which once inhibited this land now haunt it
And the wild life too…what is left of it

I’ll tell you about the birds now
Well they are in a heap not far from the human one
You are thinking how do I know this right?
I’m the only one that has survived
Because…I…ate
all of their juicy insides
and now…now I can be king of this empty world
I have destroyed everybody and everything in it
Next on my list is to consume all the plants, houses, air and the galaxy after that I guess
Well I wouldn’t have any trouble would I…there’s nobody to stop me!

By Elena Kokonova 

another political poem I have been working on that I'm putting. lastly enjoy :)

The Greatest Love

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Capitalism is immortally passionate, not loving equally or indeed freely   
But loving greedily that green gloss coat which prices love
Brand us working people – unique tag – scavenger! they laugh
Obsession triumphs, bloody end comes mercifully for savages, soar Beasts!
Worthless is something without price that smoothers slowly ordinary Beast!
Physical and emotional love valueless and immortal money best loved.
Capitalism wants man to love things; money, bags, trainers & raincoats
Emotional love - useless rubbish but money prized and treasured at heart
Money money is what we shall love most dearly…Stuff hearts with bills.
Savage love? – what a laugh, they cannot feel, how love? Death makes them feel.
Lap in the bloody money pool afloat with wondrous death drinking toxic waste
Hard earned dosh doubles that of free and physical love of simple foolishness.   

Right this poem is too an experiment of me trying to do write in iambic pentameters. I do know that some lines do not follow this pattern but that's done on purpose. feel free to give me feedback on it whether good or bad. thank you for reading 

By Elena Kokonova 


Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Medea

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(this poem I did as an experiment. the tittle outlines what the poem will be about and this poem is about a 'character' not something I have attempted to do before but I hope you enjoy it anyway!)

A daughter of a crowned one
A blood bond with the sun
Genes matching that of the sun
Bore the broad of the hero
Your love is mighty like an eagle

You guided him through the quest
with your unworldly physical powers
You wanted nothing worth of value
Just for him to marry you when her if you slay the quest

The golden fleece you gained with her help
You unpuzzled the being of your brother
Placed a piece of him in a corner of the forest cabinets
Your powers defy the boundaries of humanity
as you conjure the drink of youth
A gift that you can sever and trap in your palm

Running from one land to another you go
Two screamed into the world to infants
That wretched your life
as he took his golden blanket and another under it

You dealt the branding iron quickly on her life
With poison nested in her finest robe
and her most prided crown
that peeled her skin away like that of an apple
Her father followed the footsteps of the dead too.

The end of your tale uncertain. One ending is as follows
Another you sunk into your pool of deceit
and made promises similar to those of God
Your stomach looked like a potato  
Yet there was like with a faith like yours
which you tried to send into the depths of the outer plane
But God interfered and said it was not to be so
Then again away into the shadows of another land you went    
with your child
However a happy ending you did have when he was put upon a throne
and you were his mother 

By Elena Kokonova

quite a bit different from my other work but I still hope you read it and that it intrigues you.

Muse


There in a small decorated muse
with little houses which reside in it
There in that fairy road it is often rumored
that the three muses live

One with a talent for music, the other for art, and the last for literature
Some say it is only a folklore tale others say it is the truth
One claims, ‘I have caught their essence in a jar which glows at night.’
Others say that just the glance of their eyes makes their gardens beautiful

Everybody is puzzled by their appearance
Some say that their beauty is Godly
The specter that haunts is, ‘They with their untold tales and their unopened gifts, yet now everything of the world.’

They transcend the brilliance of a painting
They paint the houses at night and light the lamps
Like ghosts around the streets they chariot. 

By Elena Kokonova

Its a very simple poem with a simple idea. I really loved writing it I hope you enjoy reading it. 

The Globe

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I brought the globe
and put it on my bedside table
and every time I shake it I see your face
looking at me and the sliver flakes shining
just like your eyes.

Every time I look at it to see the future I see you
and I being to wonder where are you in that moment?
what you have been doing all day? How tired you are? How busy?

When I fall asleep I see your face and
that’s the closest I am to touching you physically
and you appear so real, so live, so near
But when I wake up you aren’t laying next to me in bed 

I dress away the days that pass and see how many more are
left until I see you and I count the flakes that swish back and forth
and that’s exactly how fast time passes and I know that in no time
I would see you.     

By Elena Kokonova 

hope you enjoy and would like to have some feedback whether negative or positive - all is welcome. 

Among The Things I Would Give You


are boutiques of quail feathers,
an ice frosted cupcake,
a bracelet with your letter on it,
a handful of acorns,
a bucket of blackberries,
a casket full of rosehip,

my footprints across the path to our front door
my breath captured in glass of the bathroom mirror,
the forest of my expression on the bookshelf,
my accented voice in the wooden staircase,
the artwork of my moisturised hands on the cooper door handle,

my smile reflected in the bottom of your coffee cup
my silhouette not reflected in the wall of the lamp but in the dark pits of your eyes
my laughter and pleasure engulfed by our own,
my outer glow in which your eyes paint it in your mind, 
my inner glow you caress with your own,


the fabric of the cotton candy of my mind,
a dose of my creative vitamins you took,
married to my words you said,
I am a deer that roams the meadow fields
and I gift you with the knowledge of my trips,
a coat of rain I wear which only you can brush off

my heart hung in the gallery of your own anatomy,
and yours polished and displayed in my own apothecary,
The sheet of leaves you throw over us
And the blanket of night covers us night into night
While the sun pulls the curtains open, pulls our blanket of and tickles us with her rays
And in treasure box we put our every day of ours which is patched with love
And we have the trophy of spending every day together.
There is no better thing than that amongst the undiscovered crooks of the world. 

By Elena Kokonova. 

One of my favourite poems. I LOVE IT I hope you do to. Many thanks for reading. 

Carnivore


Two races against one another
One race bloodthirsty 
Willing to kill and eat the other

The heart they have no care for
Or the brain because they are already intellectuals
They have a mind and are rational

Living creates acting like zombies
They are willing to do anything for money
Anything for the market figures
even if they don’t add up. Anything to make them into a positive

The superior race says that the inferior are bound to die out because they are weak
However they would not die because they are weak
but die to poverty, starvation, hypothermia, infertile

It is better that they don’t have children
Safe them from being used like machines in this system
This is a fight for survival a battle until death 

By Elena Kokonova 

another political poem that I have written previously and not posted up. Now it is posted and you can see it. one of the first political poems I wrote. 

The Oppressed Truth


Monarch like Fascist
Prime Minister like dictator
No difference at all

Feudalism like Capitalism
Divine right of monarch
That’s what we have now – centuries forward

A first past the post system
Based on majorities
Paralleled with absolutism

‘You don’t seem to realise the situation
and face the facts’ I wonder how those
thoughts do not enter your head

You are not an aristocratic
and you are not a democrat
Because you a oppressed

‘You over there – don’t you see it.
Don’t you see through the laced façade
and the beautiful veil before your eyes.’

Let me tell you this my comrades
We should not be submerged in the caldron 
We do not sign up to this fraternity
We were already in it from conception

‘You ask me what I mean? You think
I have a hidden motive…’
It is not a hidden motive. I want to liberate your mind

It does not matter whether you are Enlightened
Because your are mentally not free
Your eyes clearly see the snowflakes in the air yet not your own oppression

‘Yes I am telling you the truth. I am telling you that you are oppressed.
And I am arguing that you are trapped in a doomed system. A system that has bound you by an invisible rope. A noose around your neck just enough not to gag you”

I am just telling you so that you now
Because one day you will awake from your slumber and see the archetypal truth
carved on the sun, sing by the wind and choired by the grass 

By Elena Kokonova 

another one of my political poem I'm posting up. it was simply siting them in my computer folder so I thought why not share it with you - my fans. 

A Trail


One by one I went to pick up the shinny coins
on the beach and then I put them into my blue bucket
along I went to collect them much like I collect rocks
and then I run home and take them to mummy so
she can buy bread and cheese

When I went  coin picking again
there was non there and there were just hollow holes
where the coins should have been
and then I understood the tide had come and taken them away
now no more bread and cheese we have

Instead we have tap water
and air
We are still alive and I wish we were dead
that’s what I pray for before I go to bed
because it would be more merciful than this 

By Elena Kokonova 

another political poem. hope you all enjoy it. 

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Façade


The blaring curtains have hidden the room
The curtains engulfed the room in her ruffles
Tigers, lions, dragons, bears and rabbits mascots dance around inside
One to the left the other to the right
Up and down they bob
Their cartoonish eyes blind to the audience that is around them
Children squirm with laughter at them and point at their stupidity
They wear necklaces made of dollars, euros and pounds around their necks
Heavy they seem to weight on them
They the laughable figures are just like those of our democracy
A circus figure dancing around the stage for amusement
It is inexistent and what we see hear on stage is on the reality
We see dressed up figures that are not real
They wear costumes and when they take it off
Off go the characters they played and democracy just like them is an act
It is a staged idea and nothing more
It has no soul and no heart and no more
It is a spectre and nothing more. 

By Elena Kokonova
new written and I would love to hear what you think.

The Lefties Existence


Dagger, knife and gun
All are weapons but not for mass destruction
Not for use against the state
Handcuffs are what the system does best
The Superiority of Justice
Against the backdrop of the cuts and deficit

Every day the working man and women face the barrel of the gun
A dagger to their wages and a knife to their life
So what can one say about mass destruction
When every day common destruction occurs on a grand scale

Power contained within a Padlock
We suffer a little more every day
I wonder where is democracy?
It seems to be a stand up comedian.
Who after finishing his act leaves the stage.

Everybody condemns the idea of class. The existence of class
Until the tents appeared outside St. Pauls and the resignations happened
That we live in an unfair world and the question what Jesus would do occurred?
Somebody noticed the phantoms of the past
and saw is as we are, believed our suffering and plight
Somebody who stood up for us and defend us!
We will always remember this day!
You did not try to rob us our voice and did not deny our existence
We salute those who have us lefties in their hearts and minds!

By Elena Kokonova

 I just wrote this today and I'm posting it up for you to see. I thoroughly loved writing this and I hope that you like it. Many thanks. Would be great if you could leave some feedback. :) 


A History of the World Struggle

First we had tribal societies;
cave men and women fought for necessities
in the wild, men battle like deer for the fertile female
dig for roots and chewed on them to survive
slept under the black blank cave top
and the only blanket you have is your skin
primitive instinct ruling everything
the simple pleasures valued and the simplicity priceless

next in the time line is slavery
where master’s oppressed the other end of humanity,
the uncivilized rough, crude, uneducated slave
who stained the land and air with their existence and their presence
their vile and dirty touch only suited for the lowest work
unfit to receive human meals but bones, sticks and swords.
The people in want of freedom,liberty and mobility!

Then the bookmark of feudalism
The landscape changed once again
under the crops, clouds and towers  
the soil owners against the nature nurturers
captivated by the walls and where their hearts
fluttered like against the  bars of a cage
Once again the sky changed and the reflection of the world
mirrored had changed sneakily and uncaught by the sight of eyes
people in want of their lives, food, freedom and the banishment of the monarchy master walls!
The taste of freedom never born on their tongues, sight or illusion of the mind!

Then there come capitalism
The lust lyrics of money, greed, power run riot in our cities
and in our streets and houses
Minimum wage was a disgusting concept on the clusp of conservative lips
and public services a dead liability – the NHS and the welfare state
A human eats human world now
Workers against owner and owner in partnership with the state
The state enforcing and upholding power – power of the government
The common good only good for the rich and no common soil
We are not nation united but a nation divided – divided by the deficit
The deficit a reaction of the combination of bankers greed for money and the lullaby of profit on the business mind.
We the common people do not share in this common goal of ‘we are in all of this together’
What can be said is that we are criminals, chavs, rioters, benefit thefts, unemployed and depends of the state…the demonised and criminalized working class people
Labelled by a rotten system where there needs to be a villain and we the working class people become that villain
Along with the ideologies of the left that are seen always to fail
And yet here I’m wondering what are the great triumphs of capitalism
There seems to be a graduation certificate missing along with the world money and funds…I wonder where they are hiding
How at the end of the day who has benefited…? I am not cynical, there has been an inheritor of all that gold glory and I’m proud to tell you it is the people who deserve it most...because they work so damn hard
While the rest of us…we don’t give a damn. We gallivant the streets all day cladded in couture and humid hats.
What about the medieval festival costumes? What about those?
Out of place and period but yet they walk upon the cities, the streets and houses
They have the power to change the sceneries of the cities, streets and houses and even the world
Instead of the capitalism system swallowing us, it will be swallowed by the common people, by the anti capitalist protestors, the unions and students - by the left
The cry of the banks will even reach the all mighty Heaven and will even make Judgement Day come early
At last may I say –

            May God have mercy on you
                       
and may he not leave your hellish soul

            to root in Hell forever more!

                                                No

M
e

r
c         
y!




  By Elena Kokonova
Another political poem. I hope that you like/love it as much as I do. Many thanks

A Canvased Face



Maybe I have a beautiful face
and beautiful thoughts
but you can’t seem to see behind that

The scripture written in my irises
yet something else written across my soul
a soul that crawls

Would you guess that maybe hellish letters
are printed on that sacrificing page of old
Hidden from the staging of the stars, moon and sun
across my airy canvas soofly traced
not a moment of life but a thousand bound to hell
and not a trace of time on the edges of my roughly sculptured face

The parting of my lips a Godly yet foreign sound
The order of the expression of my eyes has turned a collage
and you are here to find there origins and define what is that is my essence
Oh so hard to trace out with a chalk or a paintbrush

This piece you see is actually I
and the wonder that is born in my heart is one for you
Whether you will ever understand that ideology I simply can’t know
with my mortal presence contained in that frame

My love and lust splattered on the canvas that is your heart
Among the thorns that bound my hands to the bloody glaze of the canvas
Yet you aren’t repulsed and you begin to understand the anarchy of my soul

By Elena Kokonova 

one of my recently written poems. I really love this and I hope you can enjoy it as much as me. Enjoy and please give me some feedback and your thoughts. Thank you :)