Best Ivan Poems
after Ivan's wake, later that night while I slept,
I had a dream..........
suddenly! I was in a parking garage below ground,
it was dark and oil-greasy, I was standing near a car,
a big old four-door
and on the other side of the car stood Ivan
motioning me to come to him......
I started around the side of the car,
but my feet felt like lead buckets......... I could barely move
I couldn't seem to get to him.......
and reached out to him.......
exclaiming "Ivan your dead! do you know your dead?"
.......with that peaceful smile Ivan always had,
he replied "jimmy! (he always called me jimmy)
I know, I'm ok, come here, I have to tell you something"
he reached out his hand to me,
.............and disappeared
Just a quick look
First chapter of a book
First verse of a song
Can’t stay overlong
A 50-yard dash
Gone in a flash
Not right, not wrong
Can’t stay overlong
A heat seeking missile
God blows the whistle
God strikes the gong
Can’t stay overlong...
*Dedicated to my brother Ivan who lost his life on an airline training flight in 1984. 'Hunter' was his middle name...
CAT 5 HURRICANE - IVAN THE TERRIBLE
Your world of illusion is not of my choosing,
but here we are stuck in a Hurricane's eye.
The sea is so pleasing, but I know you're teasing,
and our Hurricane is a different high.
I feel you surround me as you stop to feed,
consuming my soul in your greed;
I'd follow your teardrops to get where they lead,
your love is the ending I need.
If I'm not mistaking this migraine is making
me think that this Hurricane might lose it's eye;
your love is a blessing, I guess that's confessing
I need you to show how all Hurricanes die.
I'd walk through the valley of death in your eyes
for more of your little white lies.
I'd soar through the heavens with love if it flies,
to stay in your beautiful eyes.
I'm feeling no mercy from all the dispersing,
that Ivan'a Cat 5 will fade through the night,
but find it alarming that you and your charming
have wrecked my life much more in delight.
I'd crawl through the valley of death for your lies,
'tis here I find love, in your eyes.
I'd follow your teardrops to get where ever they lead,
your love is the ending I need.
© Vee Bdosa the Doylestowon Poet aka Ron Wilson
Let’s dream and wonder
How societies would live their diurnal,
Wondrous and productive lives
If every member of that fraternity
Of brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, children
Would have shame and higher conscience
And let it be the guiding light in their beings;
And also, would think only of others
Because whole civilization in its multitude
Would think of them before themselves;
Putting Innate Responsibility and Outermost Kindness
To the foreground;
By making them the cornerstones
Of it’s societal and unbreakable Unity.
What would it be? A total horror,
True Communism in making, I would think
Without doubt;
That how it was evinced to all who want to know
In Ivan Efremov’s treatise ‘The Bull’s Hour’
In all its humble conscientiousness and much forethought;
Would it ever happen? I think – not.
“A famous work dating from 1885 by Russian realist painter Ilya Repin, Ivan the Terrible and his son Ivan. The painting depicts Ivan the Terrible mortally wounding his son Ivan in a fit of rage, and it is considered the most psychologically intense of Repin’s paintings -- an expression of the artist's revolt against violence and bloodshed, yet within the painting of oils on canvas, the eyes painted by Repin depict Horror, an intense feeling of fear, shock and disgust.
However, it seems Violence begets violence because the painting was vandalized twice.” ~~ ALEXANDRA GUZEVA~~
“Art is not always beautiful, but if it makes you feel something, it is art”
~~The Poet~
Repin’s brush depicted actions that could only disharmonize.
Terror haunted the Tsar’s pain ridden eyes.
Ivan The Terrible’s eyes stare with remorse and panic.
Violent actions were frequent, his emotion was manic.
He and his son argued, in impulsive rage, father struck his son.
Father’s eyes silently scream “What have I done?”
Tightly grips his son and tries to stop the bleeding with the other hand.
Blood streams from his son’s head, he regrets this, it is so unplanned.
Ivan the Terrible’s spear, such a lethal weapon, lays on the ground.
There is a pool of his son’s blood there too, spilled all around.
Ivan his son, his head reposed, has the face of a betrayed son.
He will die from the inflicted wound, he sheds a solitary tear, just one.
He shows sadness and loathing of the deed that’s been done.
1st Tsar of Russia Ivan the Terrible administered many bloodthirsty deeds.
Yet for slaying his own son, he regrets, a mistake as his son bleeds.
He realizes his actions are irreversible. His eyes truly haunt when you scan
Ilya Repin has done the impossible making us pity this merciless man.
There's wind and there's rain and there's mist
above desert waters of cold,
Here life's dead to spring, it's not pleased,
to spring, wealth of gardens is sold.
I'm alone in my bower, it's dark,
I've got easel, wind blows from the park.
Last night you were here at my place,
But you pine, because of my even life
And the end didn't gift smile for face,
Nonetheless you were seemed to me wife.
So, farewell, I will live to my spring
without wife and without wedding ring.
Today clouds do not know some rest,
They go wave by wave one by one,
Your trace near porch got wet fast,
It says that you're gone, yes, you're gone.
And it's hurt to see dark when you're lone
in that nightfall and wait for the dawn.
And I wanted to shout after you,
Please, come back, you were close for me so,
There's no past for a woman, it's true,
There's no love and you're a stranger. You know.
I'll engage fireplace having drink,
Would be good to buy dog as I think.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Ivan Bunin
Translation from Ivan Kotlyarevsky
Why is the water so much roily?-
Hasn’t it been shook up by the wave?
Why am I sad and not jolly,
Hasn’t my mother chastised me to save?
Yet, my mother didn’t trouce me-
From my eyes, there pour th’ tears of bad,
No matchmakers come from my sweetheart,
But are sent from the unloved lad .
Where’re you, dear? Take a look,
See my anguish stand;
Oh, fly over, my truelove,-
They’re taking, now, my hand.
Faster, darling, bring me off
From the fierce misfortune:
If I am to live with an unloved,
I’d rather perish in a torture.
Translator into English: Ivan Petryshyn
Traduzione dal Ivan Kotliarevskij
non e' l'onda che ha sbattuto
il fiume ch'era trasparente?
non e' la ragazza triste, infelice,
perche' la mamma ha svegliato la sua mente?
non mi ha battuto la mamma-
le lacrime cadono da soli:
non ci sono i sensali dal mio caro,
arrivono i mezzani dal uno che non voglio.
dove sei, mio tesoro? guarda-
come io soffro;
vieni, vieni, mio cuore,-
un odioso uomo mi offron.
sii veloce, caro, mi salva
dalla sfortuna piu' grave:
se dovessi vivere con un odioso,
meglio perire con uno che amavi.
Ivan Petryshyn, traduttore dall'ucraino
Translation from Ivan Kotlyarevskiy
???? ???? ?????? -
?? ????? ?? ??????
???? ?? ? ????????, ????????,
?? ??????? ?? ?????
???? ? ???? ?? ???? -
???? ????? ?????:
?? ?????? ????? ???,
?? ?????????? ?????? ????.
??? ??, ?????? ???????? -
????? ? ?????? ????;
??????? ??, ??? ??????, -
????? ??? ????.
??????, ?????, ????? ????-
??????? ????? ???????:
??? ? ????????? ??? ????,
?? ????? ????????.
Translation from Ukrainian into Russian by Ivan Petryshyn
she gave me a call
Seconds after she pulled u outta her womb,
Ur mum is the greatest woman alive
So we named u ivan,our gift
From the Great Spirit,GOD that is.
she gave me a call
Seconds after she pulled u outta her womb,
Ur mum is the greatest woman alive
So we named u ivan,our gift
From the Great Spirit,GOD that is.
I
You have a vivid mind, heart, vocabulary
A lover of God, I make excuses (true, right)
Yes, South Africa fails us in electricity
Still, Shakespeare worked by candlelight
II
I admire my sisters who do romance
Sometimes sultry, often beauty in loyalty
You mix French idioms, native Americanism
I am awed, humbled, in the land of Steinbeck, Poe, Emily Dickinson
Note:
1. Dear PS writers and visitors, keep working on your craft. The Earth needs it.
2. RiP Mom, passed in 2005, aged 64, but today is my unschooled mom's birthday. I respect all women, my wife, daughters ... Because of my mom's unschooled wisdom, love for family, & creativity
There will be day I disappear
All be the same in empty room
A table and, of course, a chair
And simple icon I resume.
And butterfly in coloured silk
will fly under the ceiling blue
to flit to rustle and to blink
to soar to flutter there anew.
The same be bottom of the sky
to look in open window of mine,
The azure sea be still and smooth
with all its deep attracting views.
P.s. This is my translation of poem by Ivan Bunin
There is a game we play
but played by no one else
The same game you can play
If you play it by yourself.
I had long ago wondered
of what had me pondered
for at home is an enigma
and we named it -- PAPA.
*Young Ivan Ivanovich was murdered by his father, Ivan the Terrible
Above my head there is grey sky,
The wood that's bare without its cover,
Below in glade lemon leaves lie
in darkening dirt in lonely hour.
Cold noise is spreading out above,
Below is silence of the fading...
My youth's a roaming, it is rough,
And lonely thoughts in useless waiting!
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Ivan Bunin, 1889
Ivan Milat is dead
There is nothing to be sad about or to dread
He killed seven backpackers in the Belanglo State Forest
Finally dying from the cancer that gave him no rest
A serial killer who showed no mercy
Leaving families grieving for lives lost you see
Probably he has the title of Australia’s worst
As when he died there is such joy - to him the cursed
Do you wonder if there is judgement waiting
In his final days thinking and anticipating
And after all is said and done
We are rid of a demon undone.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Art of Ivan Albright
I hear a death rattle
feel gloom
despise grayscale-ness
flat black paint kind of background
lecherous guy
creepy skeletal hands
craggy face
shirt looks dingy, dirty, smudged
tablecloth is dank, dour, dusty,
grays and blacks, morose, macabre
I run from his art, screaming pink and orange.