Phoneticism / Maya-krazy

Willow,

   though phonetically unsound...

Kruchenykh would be proud; 

such sonorousness!

whistled in wind. 

Such words, phrases.

Mean everything,

To no-one;

But you, Life.

plangent with me,

you are, indeed.                                                                                                

-Regards, SiBot

(instead of a letter)
              
Tobacco smoke has consumed the air.
The room
is a chapter in Kruchenykh's inferno.
Remember -
beyond that window
in a frenzy
I first stroked your hands.
You sit here today
with an iron-clad heart.
One more day
you'll toss me out,
perhaps, cursing.
In the dim front hall my arm,
broken by trembling won't fit right away in my sleeve.
I'll run out,
throw my body into the street.
I'll rave,
wild,
lashed by despair.
Don't let it happen
my dear,
my darling,
let us part now.
After all
my love
is a heavy weight
hanging on you
no matter where you go.
Let me bellow a final cry
of bitter, wounded grievance.
If you drive a bull to exhaustion
he will run away,
lay himself down in the cold waters.
Besides your love
I have
no ocean
and your love won't grant even a tearful plea for rest.
When a tired elephant wants peace
he lies down regally in the firebound sand.
Besides your love
I have
no sun,
but I don't even know where you are and with whom.
If you tortured a poet like this,
he
would berate his beloved for money and fame,
but for me
no sound is joyous
but the sound of your beloved name.
I won't throw myself downstairs
or drink poison
nor can I put a gun to my head.
No blade
holds me transfixed
but your glance.
Tomorrow you'll forget
that I have crowned you,
that I burned my flowering soul with love,
and the whirling carnival of trivial days
will ruffle the pages of my books...
Would the dry leaves of my words
force you to a stop
gasping for air?

At least let me
pave with a parting endearment
your retreating path.

Lilichka, Vladimir Mayakovsky, 

Petrograd, 1916

http://themattgonzalezreader.wordpress.com/2009/06/15/lets-bellyache/

Neo-Futurist

Futurist made his stand

earning the wrath of hipsters;

more modern than they.

turning back in time

outdid their modernity;

Forever avant-garde.

SiBot.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiZ4exdJr2M

Dear Friends!

 

Dear Friends, 

I live without hope of ever communicating my gratitude to you, to any extent I might consider satisfactory.

But please do not think of me as a pessimist! Anguish might well interrupt me on most days I wake, including those meant to be celebrated, but without your support and kind wishes, I couldn't live in the hope of otherwise making myself understood... 

And so as lousy as things have been, it just so happens the date of my birth coincides with the beginning of Spring...

Last of the tempest-scattered clouds!

You alone charge upon the azure;

You alone cast a shadow, sad;

You alone temper the brightness of day.

Over time just passed, you covered the sky,

With lightning wound around you;

You thundered into the earth;

Pouring rain upon its perpetual thirst,

Enough! Disappear, that time has passed,

The earth is refreshed; the tempest flown away,

As gentle wind, caressing the leaves of trees,

Brings forth a heavenly repose. 

*Alexandr Pushkin, 1835

Isaac Levitan: Above Eternal Peace (1894)

 "De los seres que amamos su existencia nos basta."

 — 

Of the beings we love, their existence is enough for us.

— 

Yours,

SiBot

*I wasn't satisfied with the English versions already available, so I attempted to indirectly translate it myself. You may be surprised to know its a fairly common practice in the literary world for writers with very little knowledge of the original language to do this. The two versions I'd seen both tried to match the rhyming scheme (not strictly necessary considering the rhyming pairs in the original Russian alternated between genders) - obviously not possible to replicate in English. I also didn't pay too much attention to amphibrachic tetrameter, in favour of more closely replicating what the original actually said. E.g. the first of the below translations isn't sound English, and the second ignores the repetition of 'Одна ты'. 

http://www.poetryloverspage.com/yevgeny/pushkin/cloud.html
http://www.russianlegacy.com/en/go_to/culture/poetry/pushkin/storm_cloud.htm

On Waking at Noon Without a Voice...

Called out to the world,
                                      
and heard by no one,

Became a thinking thing.

Eyes began to see themselves;
Cognition could be scrutinized,
                                            turning,
in on itself.

Swallowed tongue
spoke to heart,
to cease its agitation!

And no protest was heard,
                                       nor seen,
let alone,
              misunderstood.

SiBot