Best Vladimir Poems
Youth, Time, Night Sky And Heaven's Blessed Voice
As I lay me down in lush verdant grass
Gazing into night sky as Heavens pass
Twinkling stars, to an old grievous soul speak
"Be of stout heart, not a mortal so weak"!
Heavens voice advice, if ones heart listens
Gleaming as true as, morning's dew glistens
Should we not thus seek, blessings so divine
As to not let this world our lives define?
Big dipper singing soft ditty times three
As its handle cast light, welcoming me
Archer shot beams across the Milky Way
As benevolent words, asking no pay!
Brother moon dancing, to set wolves howling
Nature set free, its kids go a'prowing
In peaceful repose, I fall into sleep
My last words, "Lord, Pray you, this soul to keep"!
Robert J. Lindley, 11-17-2019
Rhyme, ( When Youth, And Treasured Memories An Old Poet Remind )
Dedication, Second Poets Dedication Series, Nabokov
~ ~ ~ ~
As Sun Rises, Bringing Morn's Newborn Glee
As sun rises, bringing morn's newborn glee
rooster crows out its pleasures at dawn's light
as world again wakes, its teeming dark sea
shouts, do as you will, dark has fled with night!
Alas! Such is but its great and black lie
for darkness chooses but a brief retreat
folly to believe, as many may die
joining cold ashes of mortal defeat!
When night returns, its dark dances about
as hidden shadows leap from poison trees
solemn blackness, its power needs no shout
as those wise in many years will agree!
Yet new sun that brings light to dark banish
sets its course mortal man can never sway
reveals those sins we may wish to vanish,
in ever decaying hours of each day!
As morn's voice calls, this sweet coffee I sup
slow across this wood porch, an inch-worm crawls
an old man savors third and final cup
and seeks warmth within his castle walls!
Robert J. Lindley, 11-17-2019
Rhyme, ( Peaceful Morn, As Dawn's Glory Seeps Into Weary Soul )
(When Both Light And Dark Stir A Poet's Soul )
Second Poet Tribute Series, Vladimir Nabokov
Notes :
(1.) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vladimir_Nabokov
Vladimir Nabokov
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Categories:
vladimir, appreciation, art, creation, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
What a shock
Literally an earthquake shock
Strolling through the thrift store
And there he was, an employee, of all things
taking stock from the shelf and packing them right up
He deemed shelves better empty than full
Vladimir Putin!
I almost walked right over him!
He had such a serious solemn face
I couldn't help but stare
He stared right back
He held his glare
Quietly, I whispered
"I know who you are my friend"
He looked around nervously
"shhhhhhhhh" he said
Responding I said "it's ok Vlad, the secret shall be ours and ours alone"
spa-see-ba
pa-zhal-sta
As I walked away I saw a slight grin on his face
I too smiled
Someone you see
Has the same sense of humor as me!
Alexander though couldn't laugh
He was dead
Categories:
vladimir, abuse, anger, art, celebrity,
Form:
Free verse
There's been a breaking news report about Santa's reindeer.
While flying over Russia, they were lassoed by vile Vladimir!
"I'm determined to ruin Christmas for everyone this year.
Too many smiling faces in the world," he said with a sneer.
An envelope arrived at the Kremlin. Postage was first class.
And a note scribbled from a poet's hand, that was rather crass.
It read, Here's a gift for you. I found it in a pile on my grass.
I hope it reminds you of the poop that plopped from your ass.
Putin was enraged! Someone took a photo of his snarling jeer.
When it was shown on the news, the world let out a cheer!
He's going to take revenge, and wants everyone to live in fear
but I think there's a hero who's going to take down Vladimir.
The one who'll save Christmas is a jolly man in a red suit.
Usually he's kind to others, but not to one of such ill repute.
He'll get back all eight reindeer and his sleigh filled with loot
and tie up old Valdimir, that obnoxious murderous brute!
Santa wasn't injured when putrid Putin captured the reindeer.
Laying a finger beside his nose, he got himself into first gear.
"I'll nuke him," Santa said, "Blast his butt out the hemisphere!
Then deliver toys to girls and boys. Fly home and have a beer."
Categories:
vladimir, christmas, evil,
Form:
Rhyme
SONG ABOUT THE EARTH
Vladimir Vysotsky
Is the earth, as they say, burnt and dried?
Will a seed, as they say, never sprout?
Has the earth, as they say, really died?
No! It’s taken a lengthy time-out!
Mother Earth will forever give birth,
Its maternity isn’t a fiction!
Don’t believe that they burnt down the earth,
No! It’s blackened from grief and affliction.
Trenches, running like scars back and forth …
Bleeding guts black shell-craters expose …
They are open nerves of the earth,
Which unearthly unhappiness knows.
It will stand wars and grief — any thing!
It’s not crippled, though booted and looted …
Don’t believe that the earth doesn’t sing,
That it’s quieted down, diluted!
No, it’s singing as loud as it can
From a trench, from a wound, from a hole!
Since the earth is the soul of Man,
Boots cannot trample down the soul!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2001
Categories:
vladimir, nature, philosophy, song-earth, grief,
Form:
BROTHERLY GRAVES
On brotherly graves wooden crosses don’t stand,
No widows weep there, mourning,
On mass graves you see only flowers and
The fire, eternally burning.
The earth here ruffled with stony waves
When mortars were ripping the planet.
There is no personal fate in these graves –
All fates merged in one under granite!
I see in the flame, that forever is lit,
A village burnt down to coals,
A tank that is flaming and there in it
I see burning soldiers’ souls!
On brotherly graves no widows weep,
And there they put no crosses …
But it doesn’t mean our grief isn’t deep
And we have forgotten the losses!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2003
Categories:
vladimir, history, loss, song-
Form:
I oiled the card of daily being
splashing the paint from glass; I pointed
slanting cheekbones of ocean streaming
on plate of jelly, I was joyed
to read the calls of some new lips
on tin fish scales; oh, it is cute,
But could you play Nocturne on ribs
of very noisy drainpipe flute?
P.S. My translation of poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky
Categories:
vladimir, allegory, color, emotions, metaphor,
Form:
Lyric
ODE TO THE BATH-HOUSE
Vladimir Vysotsky
God, bestow on us your salvation,
God, your blessing bestow on us,
When we, dirty, begin the lavation,
Washing spirit and flesh in the bath!
Mother-water’s renascent, reviving,
Healing ugliness, sickness and sores.
Here you feel how nature is thriving,
Here you feel that the birthright restores!
Sins and faults, in your soul embedded,
Any nuisance which grinds you or bores,
By hot steam that’s been lavishly added,
Are knocked out of you through your pores!
All your torments are evaporated
And dissolve in the sky to your mirth;
Being freed from your vices and hatred,
You can start a new life on the earth!
It’s not washing – it’s purification!
Don’t you rush outside, take your time!
Give your soul some hard perspiration,
Steam away all its mire and slime!
Naked bodies – defects are not hidden.
Never mind! You’ll be cleansed and renewed!
In the bath-house just like in Eden:
Only those can stay, who are nude!
Rid of pride when the pants you are stripping,
Rid of vanity, being undressed,
Since a besom is equally whipping
Any legs, any back, any breast!
How one is exactly like others
In a sauna you can esteem;
All are free in the bath, all are brothers
And the parity rules in the steam!
Through the bath-house pass generations,
Through the water, that’s holy and prized,
Through affection, through mercy and patience
We, barbarians, must be baptized!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2003
Categories:
vladimir, allegory, health, song-
Form:
Gold is covering emerald leaves,
I can see cloudy heaven is numb,
Asters, dahlias blooms among grieves
like a garland they cannot succumb.
Little rain is annoying sometimes,
It is hanging like muddy cobweb,
The wind plays with the foliage that lies,
It will fly away newly, don't grab.
And sometimes daring ray of sunshine
will burn lightly with its rare kiss,
Clouds run fast spinning over skyline -
Clouds of numerous gold-plated leaves.
November, 1915
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Vladimir Nabokov.
Categories:
vladimir, autumn, emotions, feelings, kiss,
Form:
Lyric
In truth Clare Quilty
Was clearly guilty,
While humble Humbert Humbert
Was fervently pervert.
The issue to talk of
What told us Nabokov ?
Categories:
vladimir, books,
Form:
Rhyme
Just like magic
235 days
are
gone.
One beer
and
suddenly
day 1
begins
anew.
I am
as
guilty
as
Vladimir
Putin
crossing the
border.
Categories:
vladimir, addiction,
Form:
Free verse
It is. It isn't. Is it him today?
It might be Putin, or it might be not
How many Putins are there anyway?
That's not his chin. It is. It's hard to say
The space between his eyes is not a lot
It is. It isn't. Is it him today?
He's out among the crowds. Oh happy day!
All former paranoias are forgot!
How many Putins are there anyway?
The upper lip. The hint of sneer. The way
He spits his silly bitter little plot
It is. It isn't. Is it him today?
The way he walks. So stiff and with a sway
Such fun to play. How hard is he to spot?
How many Putins are there anyway?
One has to ponder on the rate of pay
What matter if another one is shot?
It is. It isn't. Is it him today?
How many Putins are there anyway?
© Gail Foster 29th June 2023
Categories:
vladimir, identity, image, political, psychological,
Form:
Villanelle
"If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe," ... Carl Sagan
Subtle crafts soundly, using euphemisms,
yet cluelessness dealt a sheltered abyss.
When one confront internal mechanisms,
whatchamacallit ... orphaned hit-or-miss.
A conundrum conspires an endowed soul,
behooves postmortem liken achievement.
Where'er wits helix baptism, buried hole,
an urchin crawlspace, be I foundling sent.
Newborn bid birthright a pardoned envoy,
of mature absence deemed as uncharted.
Internals blueprint designed, bad employ,
indeed, tunnels end--will be lights outed.
Rare conscientiousness temper unknown,
infiltrate hallmark translates as dethrone.
Categories:
vladimir, allusion, analogy, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Sonnet
This satanic one lives in a dark, lonely place
He’s thoroughly engrossed in pelfishness,
Utterly devoid of virtue, principle, and grace
He is lounging in narcissism and selfishness.
While he views other leaders with disdain,
Claiming his greatness with disgusting ego
He clearly cares only for what is his domain
And those who recognize it will rate him a zero.
V. Putin -- of such pitiful, unenviable nature,
Alone in his well-protected, Moscow capitol
Fearing for his life, his most prominent feature,
While his smirking arrogance is quite classical.
Despicable, this loathsome, murderous creature
He’s even worse than a hypocritical preacher!
Written March 17, 2022
Categories:
vladimir, evil, how i feel,
Form:
Sonnet
I'm in love, and all the disturbed birds
will soar into this pearl sky,
Cannot be silent, and I
feel that I'm part of your thoughts!
I'm in love! From the streets of the city
a thousand times will be reflected, words
in envious echo will resonate.
That is the superfeeling
of the superman, it's great!
Call an ambulance, firefighters, police...Do you hear?..
I'm in love!!!
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky
Categories:
vladimir, emotions, feelings, love, metaphor,
Form:
Lyric
You smoke, you drink, you have no wife,
It's Putin making your bad life.
And when it's hot, and when it's cold,
It's all Vladimir Putin's fault.
When you're upset and there's no hope,
When you have got unwanted job,
It's Putin done, because who else
does not want make you Prince of Wells.
He's evil guy, he wants no peace,
He makes you cry, he makes you miss,
When all your money's not enough
to buy a date with Queen of love.
When you've got feud with mom and dad,
When new "Star wars" is pretty bad,
Why Harvey Weinstein will not say:
Vlad Putin pushed me on this way!
It's always Putin everywhere,
He has bare torso riding bear,
He's almighty and fearful too,
But you're a good person, aren't you?
Categories:
vladimir, emotions, philosophy, political, racism,
Form:
Rhyme