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Best Poems Written by Maryna Tchianova

Below are the all-time best Maryna Tchianova poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Dedication

Dedication


The world falls apart.
The world is your hands stretched when
Something within me is a rock worth climbing.
When the reality is worth inhaling.

When the Moon cuts the sanity with its light.

I cannot quit.
I wish I could.
I cannot quit.
I wish I could.
I cannot depict what’s going on.
I wish I could.

We fit perfectly
like fire and black soil,

like disaster and silence, 
like pain and victory, 
like solemn July nights
and gruesome routine.

I wish I could find shelter 
and conceal my haughtiness from the past, 
our questions revealing the dark side of being, 
our routes unknown.

In my life’s equation
you are thorn, silk and embers. 

There is more to dedication than mere events. 

I cannot quit. 
I wish I could.

Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016

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Urban

Urban

Dare to touch me without any rules. 
Dare to see the spectacular view on us
In the nearest past
Covered by shadows, covered by dust. 
How passionately the wind blows away 
Our words. 
It hurts so much not to remember, 
To feel left out of the game
When your name is an endless source of tenderness.
By watching the city I watch you. 
By discovering it I caress you. 
You hide like a predator in the darkness 
Of the same block. 
We stroke the different sides of luck. 
Click. Click through everything that’s not sold. 
Turn our kisses into solid gold. 
With your hands you burn my previous world. 
No one can go as far as you can. 
No one is a cannon in this iron land. 
Green and red as metaphors for broken hearts. 
Our looks are curved and complicated, 
A perfect manipulation is a story that runs fast but never stops. 


Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016

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Sacred and Profane Love By Titian - 1514

Sacred and profane love by Titian - 1514

Love divine 

How it burns when it falls from the sky - 
how it hurts when the water is done. 
How it rains with the words half-denied, 
When the world looks for fabulous suns. 

How it aches when the feeling's away
from the roads that are fast and are clean. 
How it roars when the lights are insane,
how they fatefully touch our skin. 

How I pray for this love not to fade,
How I look for your eyes in the woods, 
How we crave for emotional shade, 
In each other we find our roots. 


Profane love

When the touch dumbs us down - 
when the shadows arise, 
When in passion we drown, 
when there's evil disguised. 

When your kiss, black as night, 
slowly turns on my key, 
when your arms, full of might, 
burn my fragility, 

When we're fruitful and hot, 
when we're lost in our dreams, 
When we're tied with love's knots, 
So profane we might seem. 


06.05.2016 

(c) Maryna Tchianova, Ukraine

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People Are Like Trees - Antonia Zoryana Shelepylo Translated By Maryna Tchianova

I see people. They walk like trees.
As if everyone was in himself and for himself.
A kind of a human forest.
I may be a tree too, although without roots or fruit
but for the others I am nothing and no one.
Each tree`s eyes fall down.
To see clearly and vividly in everyone
how you grow like love within,
flourish like life
give birth to fruit of humanity.
Give me such eyes that could see You in the other world,
where there are not so much
eyes that have vision
and are not only open.
We grow from one land,
go to another
but on Earth we can be
the basis to the Sky.
I want to see a human being
In me and someone else.
I have no roots but I stretch my branches for us to become roots for each other.

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Muse - Unintended Russian Translation By Maryna Tchianova

Muse - Unintended - ??????? ?? ???????/Muse Unintended Russian translation


You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You could be the one I'll always love
You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions
You could be the one I'll always love

I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before

First there was the one who challenged
All my dreams and all my balance
She could never be as good as you

You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You should be the one I'll always love

I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before

I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before

Before you...

(c) Muse (Matthew Bellamy) , 'Showbiz' album 

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Ty mogla by byt' moeju
Tak legko i tak sluchajno, 
Ja by mog prodolzhit' svoju zhizn', 
Ty mogla menja uslyshat'
I stenan'ja, i voprosy, 
Ja by mog vsegda tebja ljubit'. 

Ja pridu, kogda smogu ja,
No poka chinju pospeshno,
Mir, chto byl razrushen do tebja. 

Pervaja vsjo razrushala - 
Vse mechty i zvuk garmonij,
Ej ne dotjanut'sja do tebja. 

Ty mogla by byt' moeju
Tak legko i tak sluchajno, 
Ja by mog prodolzhit' svoju zhizn', 
Ty mogla menja uslyshat' - 
I stenan'ja, i voprosy, 
Ja by mog vsegda tebja ljubit'. 

Ja pridu, kogda smogu ja,
No poka chinju pospeshno,
Mir, chto byl razrushen do tebja.

Ja pridu, kogda smogu ja,
No poka chinju pospeshno,
Mir, chto byl razrushen do tebja.

(?) Matthew Bellamy translated by Maryna Tchianova in 2018

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Waves

Silently she waits, 
wearing a crest of a wave on her finger.
The night will erase all the meaningless fears.
Silently she dares
to break all the obstacles unforeseen,
to dive into the truth
that is far from luxurious.
Silently she realizes
that part of her fault is in building a world of hypocrisy.
Silently she dreams
of becoming younger.
Silently she falls asleep
between Achilles and Odysseus,
counting the reasons for blindness.
Silently she melts the ice
of her tranquility
in a solar whirlpool
that must eradicate her as well, 
but it won’t. 

Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016

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Decency

The decency.


With relation to the horizon I am a walking vertical.

I justify it by standing in a line of the same lines

near a coffee boot.

I will certainly be punished for behaving differently

from the ideal of straightness.

I pretend not to understand that

'there' coffee is not sold.

Closeness.

I am a cathetus that exists

in relation to location and time.

I justify myself by

the fact that it is the 21st century now,

and the ideal of a straght line is standing in a line for coffee.

The presence.

I don't imagine myself out of the lexeme 'to be'.

'not being' is not an antonym to it.

I finally don't get to decide about my accidental neighborhood.

I justify it only by the fact that

I am just a shadow of the substance

conditioned by false random light.  

(c) Ana Nomaren

Translated into English by Maryna Tchianova . Written by Ana Nomaren (a poet) in Kyiv, Ukraine
Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2018

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Well-Grounded Voice

well-grounded voice

In a well-grounded voice
I used to explain to you
Why I'm unable to show
What I truly feel. 
At that time the trees were tiny
and books were huge. 

In a well-grounded voice
which I'm used to playing with
I used to lose myself to the city
I'm so sorry for
because it's not a melting pot yet. 

In a well-grounded voice, 
looking for an evolution privilege in your eyes, 
daring to copy and recover
your thoughts, 
daring to rise against you, 
drifting in your own words,
but never going too far from the schedule, 

I used to watch half of your dreams. 
Is this getting global or personal?

I miss who we used to be.

 © Maryna Tchianova, 2016

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The Art of Conversation and Titian

The art of conversation and Titian
 

Hail to the thieves
that retrieve
lost trees. 

Hey! Where do you disappear?

Hail to the piercing taste of a pear. 

Hey! Why do you gaze at me so?

I don't need reality unless it's mine. 

Talk to me. 
Talk to me. 
Take your time and sigh. 
See the world redesigned. 
Then let it go.

Sell sunbeams in a crisis. 
Talk to the stones that turn. 

Touch the rhythm and burn with it.
Celebrate both victory and defeat. 
See what's featured in the cosmic menu. 
Among all the amenities I obtain you. 

The art of grabbing without touching. 
The art of dreaming without falling asleep.
The art of loathing without telling. 
The art that picks the hip from the heaps
of all their winnings. 

The art of elusive light.
The art of being close tonight
and disappearing tomorrow.
The art of 'have-a-nice-day' 
with a finger on a trigger. 
The art of getting miniscule
and then growing bigger.
The art that unites all nations - 
the everlasting
misconception
of communication. 

05/06/2016

(c) Maryna Tchianova 2016
Ukraine

Inspired by http://www.wikiart.org/en/rene-magritte/the-art-of-conversation-1950?utm_source=returned&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=referral

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The Zero World

The zero world

How the tide rises and falls, 
How the sky lightens and fails,
How the wind peacefully goes
To the zero scale it contains -  zero doesn't judge, it just exists. 

(c) Maryna Tchianova, Ukraine

Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016