You are here...

You are here when I’m wrong.
You’re my heart, you’re my mind…
When I’m weak, you are strong.
You're my eyes when I'm blind.

When I fall, when I’m lost,
You are here, you’re my way.
When I’m hell, you are frost.
When I’m coast, you are bay.

You are here when I cry,
You’re my aim, you’re my fear!
You’re my breath when I die,
You are here… you are here…

30.06.2009
Espoo
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Posted: Jun 2009
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The Orange Good and The White Sun_3

I looked at the sun.
It was the same white.
And suddenly I imagined the whole Universe with the white sun in the middle and a little orange Good that was jumping from one planet to another.
And the whole Universe was its home.

It has been many years since the Good left me, but I'm still waiting for it.
Maybe it will come back...
Not forever...
I know it can't live in our world...
But just for a while, to see each other.
And I look at the white sun, and I hear its whispering: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And I ask for how long should I wait, but it just repeats: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And something ugly hides from me the white sun...
It's hanging and laughing in the clouds.
And I'm pretty sure that the Good will come back.
It won't forget me.
But what if it can't find my house or my city?
When I think of it I feel so cold and scared.
It might be that a little orange Good is walking now somewhere on this planet.
So, if you meet it, please say that I'm missing my little friend.
Perhaps, it doesn't know what it is “to miss”, but it doesn't matter.
It will ask you: “What is missing?”, and maybe the white sun will smile and become yellow again.

Kiev,
2003
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Posted: Nov 2009
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INTO THE STORM

There is a darkness with one arm
That has conquered this city.
There is a soundless alarm
That has been full of pity.

There is a night resumes its reigns…
And room without windows.
There is a fear in frozen veins
That leaves unwritten symbols.

There is a wall that hides from light.
There’s door without handle.
There is a creak in broken flight
That scared itself with sandal.

There is a darkness with one eye
That has conquered its madness.
There is a fear that wants to cry
Because of being endless.

There is… It could have been so sweet,
It has become so bitter.
There is a storm that tries to split
Its ears with windy whisper.

There is a night resumes its reign,
And room without windows.
Perhaps, it is a sweetest pain
That leaves unwritten symbols.

Espoo,
7.10.2009
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Posted: Nov 2009
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The Orange Good and The White Sun_2

I stopped and thought, and honestly I didn't know what to say.
The one silly conclusion hanging in my mind was if there is so much of death, then it must be good!
But then what is good? What is the Good?
I looked at it.
Something small, shining and orange, without any stable shape.
Something as innocent as probably I was a long time ago...
Or was I still?
Otherwise it couldn't get to me at all...
I took the Good and put it on the table.
It was looking at me with its pure blue eyes and waiting.
I don't know what happened to my voice because I whispered:
- You are right friend, but I don't really understand it.
- Why don't you understand?
- Why? - I turned around, - nobody understands.
- Hm, - the Good stopped talking.

It kept silent till noon.
And it got confused when I invited it for lunch.
It started to ask me the questions again.
A funny and curious little one which was itself a proof that anything good cannot be bigger than this my odd orange friend.
So, I realized that it didn't need food.
- Why do you eat? - the Good queried, - for what?
- Well, everybody has to eat to be alive.
- What is alive?
- Mmm, alive is not dead... - I wished I didn't say it.
- The death... again death... death, - the Good was repeating this word being climbing on the cabinet.

- Hey little one! Come down! - I called it when I finished lunch but it was silent, - ok, as you wish!
It stayed there till the end of the day.
I called it a few more times and then left it alone.

The Good woke me in the morning:
- You know, the stars sometimes also didn't understand me, but they used to say why. When the sun threw me to the space, the stars were so glad that they finally had somebody to talk to... you know, they are very talkative! You can't imagine how easily they get bored if they have to keep quiet for a few minutes. Ah, so they were so happy to have me. But since that moment I was thrown to the space, the sun became white. And it will be white forever. It was already too tired.
I suddenly figured out that the bright orange colour of my friend had become paler.
- What's wrong with you? - I asked, but it didn't answer.

It was getting lighter and lighter day after day.
I didn't hear its clear and infectious laughter anymore.
The Good was getting more and more quiet and passive.
Then I realized that it was sick.
I didn't know how to treat it, I have never treated the Good.

I left it on the shelf and went to the pharmacy for some advice in this strange situation.
When I came back, I didn't find the light-orange blemish among the books.
The window was opened and there was a mark on the windowsill.
I realized that the Good had flown away.
Perhaps, the stars were calling for it.


To be continued...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
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The Orange Good and The White Sun_1

I had gotten an odd present for my birthday.
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?


To be continued...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
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Stairs

I'm darkness,
I'm crying with sunrise
Every day.
My tears
Fill your hopeless dreams
With blind faith.

I would be happiness
But I'm dying in your heart
Every day.
My death
Fills your fast life
With purpose.

I would be stairs,
As high as you could fall down
Every day.
My height
Forces you to get up,
To get your way.

I'm your mind,
And being so poor I teach you
Every day.
My spirit
Fills your thoughts
With sense to be human
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
There is something that I can tell about each of my poems - life is so simple but so hardly understandable

Iiris
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I'm hanging on your thoughts...

1.
You're hiding your world,
You're scared of your breath.
Your eyes are so cold,
Your mind got to mess.

You shoot at the sky
To kill some odd cloud.
Your tears are so dry,
Your thoughts are so loud!

Chr:
I'm living in your heart,
I'm flowing with your words,
I brought you to the start
But probably it hurts.

I'm hanging on your thoughts
To take away your pain.
I've kept for us two boats,
Should we escape in vain?

2.
You're hiding your hands,
Your gloves are so tight.
You leave your demands
To plunge into the night.

You wait for the flight...
When darkness comes here
You're shining so bright,
Excited with fear.

Chr:
I'm living in your heart,
I'm flowing with your words,
I brought you to the start
But probably it hurts.

I'm hanging on your thoughts
To take away your pain.
I've kept for us two boats,
Should we escape in vain

To come back here some day?..
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2009
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Do you believe?

Do you believe that darkness brings to light?
Do you believe that life can last forever?
Your desperation could have turn to flight,
Do you believe that destiny is flavour?

Do you believe that sand might die for wings
To fly to abyss of the Universal?
Do you believe in power of the rings?
Do you believe in birth of your immortal?

Do you believe that future goes to past?
Do you believe that rain is burned with fire?
Do you believe that dream is just a dust?
It’s just a dust that brings us to desire…

Do you believe that sun sometimes can cry?
However, tears belong to human being.
Do you believe that I don’t mind to die
To bring you back to our broken feeling…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2009
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...Just hurry up!

Just look at me,
I came from madness
To bring a wisdom
To this crazy world!

Just fall to me
With thunder
From the spring sky,
And burn the happiness!

Just turn me on,
Probably I’m dying
Being fallen
So deeply…

Just fly with me,
I’m enchanted by future!
I’m leaving from the past!
I’m yours…
Just hurry up!

8.04.2009
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
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I'm poisoned

I'm dying,
I'm poisoned
With darkness,
With crowd!

I'm trying
To whisper
But shouting
So loud!

I'm hiding -
I'm found!
I'm praying
To you...

I'm dying,
I'm poisoned,
I'm poisoned
With you!

Forgive me
I'm flying
To you
In your dreams...

I'm witch...
No, I'm poisoned
With distance,
With sting!

I'm dying,
I'm poisoned
With waiting,
With time...

I'm dying,
I'm poisoned,
I need you
To survive...

17.04.2009
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
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You were flying...

You were some blue bird,
You were flying
Between happyness and destiny.
You were thinking
To wind up with dew
To heaven…

You were white ghost,
You were flying
Over the sun!
You were touching
Something
In dense smoke…

You were screaming
With white thirst
For exhausted Earth.
You were dreaming
That some day
You will stop to be a soul.

25.06.2009
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
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Shadow

You’re just a shadow,
Forgotten shadow
From nowhere.

You’re coming here,
You’re smiling
With grey smile…

You’re just a shadow…
Tell me your name,
Give me your pain…

You’re just a shadow,
But somehow I know
You were some crazy feeling…

You were some heavy tense…
You were so bright and deep…
You were some bitter destiny…

You’re just a shadow.
You’re just small shadow
That came from nowhere.


16.06.2009
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
Life is a great accident...
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This is a list of Iiris's Poems. Click here for Iiris's Poem List

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