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Category: Sad

To my friends

Published by Ondrej on June 30, 2020

To my friends:
now, a new chapter begins.

You, who have stood by me
while all else deserted;
You, who could see
what really mattered.

Those of you I joked around with
or engaged in staring matches
being normal: a myth…
You, who also had sweat patches.

Then there were those closer;
more than just friends
those to be hugged tighter (or pushed further)
to steer clear or worship as godsends.

The Beethovens and Puccinis
astounding, so incredibly talented
others, as dry as ten-day grissinis
or like ancient blades—blunted.

Peculiar, bizarre or perplexed
your faces have been;
while I was not vexed
some things cannot be unseen.

The future world leaders
and the future garbage men
all learned literary readers
some wishing they said “amen”.

The party animals
with seemingly bottomless bladders
others, mammalian cannibals
starting already to climb career ladders.

To be very brief, indeed,
it matters not whence you come
or what devils you believe in;
it’s the shared experiences:
those are second to none
and the cameras we have smiled in
putting aside our differences.

I have a message unsmall:
I love you all.

Torrid untranquilities and ninety nice notes

Published by Ondrej on May 30, 2020

We’re a babbling bumbling band of baboons
doing nothing but complaining from our cosy cocoons.
It would be wonderful to whack our wretched worries
and the terrifyingly terrible atrocities of terror
us humble humans have hence held to hold
instead of crazy conflicts and crooked cops,
we really need ninety nice notes
from gallant gods gloating gloriously from the Garden;
then those torrid tortuous (un)tranquilities would suddenly stop starting.

Past/future

Published by Ondrej on May 30, 2020

It was naïve beyond belief
I thought our love was to stay;
Nor could I imagine the relief
When you finally went away.

Now, looking upon new horizons:
with unknown places left to explore.
I will avoid drawing comparisons:
it will be a new start, nothing more.

Many emotions on this final day

Published by Ondrej on May 29, 2020

On this final day
where a journey falls away;
a journey of many years
of both tears and fears.
And it wasn’t so cool:
it was only school.

But on this final day
when goodbyes we get not to say
all I am asking for,
a favour, nothing more;
a big, warm hug
something for my heart to tug.
A loving embrace
and then a glance upon each other’s face…

But I guess even such a simple task
Is simply too much to ask.

Past

Published by Ondrej on May 14, 2020

No, I have not forgotten anything
to your voice, there was a ring;
nor the way your smile used to sing
as you sat there opposite.
There was more between us to admit
your look, for my emotions a conduit
to higher, deeper words inside
as our universes used to collide
emotions words could not describe.

With a sorry, I concede
it lasted longer than agreed.
No longer was I able to read
all your secret and obvious signs;
then, I knew, that this defines
and most certainly undermines
what was left of the beauty;
we realised it was not our duty
to tend to our tender amity.

Behind the door

Published by Ondrej on April 22, 2020

A howling whirlwind
just as you open the door
“what’s wrong” is not a good question
nor was it the best decision
to ask what’s going on
behind the door.

Upon it, wheels and locks
like on castles, or in clocks;
intricate machinery, thick iron
making your stomach churn.

Lest we forget
no tools are needed yet
it is with simple words,
(human musical chords)
the bars fall loose
slowly shattering
with a shrill shriek.

You’ve opened Pandora’s box:
what on earth do you seek?
Couldn’t you have left her alone,
left her troubles her own?
Safely stored away
kept deep within
kept deep at bay.

On second thought
except those moments when she sought
seclusion, running away from her fears,
in a corner, unable to stop the tears.
When the world crumbles,
its supporting pillars tumble.
Halt!—
A ray of light
stops the rubble falling
a new hope is calling
a rushing spirit
a light glowing bright neon
for you’ve asked
“what’s going on?”

Be aware of a likely torrent
muddy, stained memories
bloody, pained—no longer secretive
like a nostalgic fugitive.

Fill your soul with empathy before
and she will be grateful for evermore.
This one fight will be won
For you’ve asked what’s going on,
you’ve had to implore,
what’s going on behind the door?

Lost

Published by Ondrej on April 22, 2020

Searching for everything and nothing
looking for it all;
can’t seem to get
to the bottom of it all.

Peering into the darkness
from a porthole onto fog
not knowing the hidden rough sea
is just the beginning of the prologue.

This ship should sail far
to a secluded island or the highest peaks
away from this wretched endless rush
to find out what my heart seeks.

This journey, I must embark on alone
for the deep crevasses
and fast-moving sand pits
need not your caresses.

Your caresses, glue to the shards
scattered through my being;
perhaps there is one hope
or a ludicrous fantasy I am seeing.

Quarantine 5

Published by Ondrej on April 22, 2020

What day is it?
A greyish blend
An endless pit
With no view around the bend;
but this time
is well spent
making words rhyme.

Others find it less so,
they’re taking it badly;
A shame, because there’s much to know
they look at it rather sadly.

For this is now week five
indeed, it does deprive
us of our friends
and our partners’ beds.

Instead, we can finally see
Those who we’ve been living with: our family.
It’s really not that bad
unless you check the numbers
—and now they’re more than sad;
So many people entering eternal slumbers
For their sake and ours,
Let’s hope this lasts only a few more hours.

Dear Christoff

Published by Ondrej on April 20, 2020

A winter field
the fog, lurking
not a budge,
not a single movement
not even a breath
makes a dent, such
places; lots of death
in times long past.

Torch flickers, snuffs out
a silence of sound
the stark noise of absence around
enveloping, sealing, like cold wax
just as these soldiers’ fates; buried in stacks
their lives – a lost whisper
heard in the still breeze.

Would they have been better off
was it a good idea, dear Christophe?
Regrets, maybe a few;
not like you can say anything new
‘tis a century we’ve been blue.
This is not because of you.

The men in suits—curse them!
Wretched pigs, can they not
put aside feelings from their cot
must others, innocent ones, answer
questions that they themselves cannot?

Ah, dear Krzysztof,
all your names
succumbing to the same flames.
Wherefore do you lie here
so far yet so near.
Into the dark, we can only peer
long time ago, dear,
now a shadow in our minds
staying put as long as history binds.

Fatigue

Published by Ondrej on April 11, 2020

As the fog rolls in
you cannot see the shore;
much like when
you are tired once more.

A grey-blue haze
of midnight blooms
comes rushing in;
it swiftly swoons.

You dread it coming
but avoid it, you cannot
the ship’s arrived
ties you up in a knot.

Your time has come,
the slow bells of slumber call
run away, you can try
be like running into a brick wall.
Either way, standing or sitting or lying;
the heavy curtain will fall like lead
little time left for complying,
it cares not whether you are in your bed.

Otherwise, should you wish to evade,
it will not be lead next time:
the shrill whistle of falling stone
as you draw your last breath, alone.