Ballet boy

You are, and I will seem

With any movement of yours.

Dance, dance, I will not get up

Watch and believe your dreams.

I won't get tired of knowing one thing

Your soporific desire

You are definitely everything, and I am one

Your Ballet Creation ...





The jester who cannot move

Looking for the help of a puppet

He will offer his eyes

Under the hands of the executioner.

It will split in two

On their own, strangers, others ...

Will notice everyone, hurt everyone

For semantic smiles ..






And a person is born in real life,

In the reality of a black void

Where will he grab the edges

Your soul, your dream.

And he will see, hear, rave,

When fate is black and white Earth

Only he can measure everything in red,

Understand, speculate for you ...






The clown will paint over me

Your beautiful sleep.

Only after waiting for you

Black will wake up dumb ...

He's on the opposite sheet

Whispers to herself now

The verse of a madman. Yes,.

There is a time to forget about yourself ..





I notice the defenselessness of deception

When the eyes find you.

You are a strange, strange wound

I'm already dressing you in black ...

Into an uneven mesh cry

Love has transformed two.

We caught that moment -

Their deaf transparency ...





Someone's voice of a chrysanthemum

Multifaceted stems

Reveals schema faces

Gloomy gray corners.


On the steps, reddish,

Removing a light whisper,

Someone in beige, incomprehensible,

Distorted, pockmarked, me.


Looks cold-howling

Someone's timid quiet fear

Like a creaky staircase

The personal step disappears.


With thin shoulders

And with the eyes of amber,

Breathes in strange colors

Someone in beige, leaving.


Laughter, eyes went wild

Can secretly show

Like the purest start

Everything is ready to forgive you.




Self-portraits of Van Gogh


What's he next? And how free

Self-portrait devoid of beauty?

I have hung many paintings on the stage

Of my painful fate ...


I'm crazy let me see

How your hand cuts the canvas.

I'm ready to hate everything

I am your servant of yellow eyes.

Servant of Helpless Attractions

Another personal “I”,

Who can no doubt

Sell the vicious me.


Weaker, weaker, it hurts, it hurts

Notice your forbidden anger

When suddenly the ear is triangular

Replaces everyone with the word "bluff".

To a bluff of empty regret

Of my lost ideas.

In them, the life of a hammered moment

Does not reflect the essence of people.


Paler, paler, orange spots,

Breathe in my pity

I'm disgustingly pleased

Look at the images of the shadows

Severe personal deviations

“Self-portrait” me.

They are traces of other people's persecution

Floral-yellow "lies".


Be brave, brave, don't give in

Death melancholy is heard.

You, dissolving, smile

A piece of torn canvas.

Wait ... stay ... Cold, Cold ...

The color of my love is humiliated

Your acrid hunger has penetrated me

I'm lonely, I'm covered in blood.





Dance of the winter swoop

Catches a whisper of silence

Shadows of light flight

Run away from the spring.

Flimsy sticky November

Play enough dreams.

The wound of laughter leaves

View of brown grass.

The gray ghost understands -

That the world is wrapped in scarves





The mannered embarrassment of love

He is ashamed of his plasticity.

Catch a constrained look

He's getting stronger, more painful.

Empty, noticed - yours

Afraid to become my desire,

It is subject to others

As a hidden, unnecessary consciousness.





Glassy, smoky, vulnerable

Our dance of white wine

Your look is attentively naive

Watching how she basked.