anaushakova
-
Poem: Smoke
I used to smokeAnd then I stoppedAnd then I am back to itWhere nothing feels like in controlIt gives me pauseIt gives me a few seconds in between inhalesTo take in beauty of the worldThe same odd momentIn which I feel my body poisonedJust as muchAs much as our little precious worldI then feel like…
-
Poem: три месяца войны/three months of war
Три месяца войны, Как одна ночь прошли, Сломав миллионы жизней и судеб. Три месяца войны – кровавой, беспощадной, В которой люди безвольно в волков превращены, Под властью безаконных судей… Три месяца войны, В которой гибнут чьито дети, В которой гибнут старики… Три месяца войны, На ту что весь мир смотрит, Войны идейной, самой страшной, Войны…
-
Poem: день победы/victory day
Объясните за что мы воюем,И когда же закончится это ад?И когда важнее всего будут люди,А не земли кусочек и чужой власти крах? Объясните мне гражданину простому,За что мы так горько должны платить,Объясните за что ,сыновья и отцы должны жизнь свою положить,За что матери должны горевать,Ну а дети – за что?Объясните! Защищаться? Враги? От кого?Kулаками, ракетами,Не…
-
MUSIC: IVAN SVETUNKOV ‘MY MOTHER’
Dear friend of mine, Ivan, has written a song inspired by my recent poem. Its beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time but illustrated horrible divisions within our families on matters of war. Ivan is also a writer and writes stories, poems and music in both English and Russian. Find more about Ivan here.
-
Essay: A symbol for being human?
There should always be a symbol for something you own, right?What about the thoughts, an idea?What about when you feel warm/cold/hot?To a child you would have a symbol/ a drawing for everything, would you? For an adult, symbol is politics, right? What about some letters you choose?To put on your car, clothes, police shoulders –…
-
Poem: My mother
Every time I see pictures of the dead bodies,I think of my mother.Every time I hear about another war crime,I think of my mother.Every time I see tears,I think of my mother.I think of my mother,Who thinks that one day this will lead to good,Who thinks that one day someone will come and say ‘thanks’,Who…
-
Poem: I thought I knew
I thought I knew what the pain is,I thought it is to be left brokenhearted by someone you love/trust,I thought it is saying goodbye to a friend, to my mother, whom I see so rarely.I thought the pain was to stand, to hug in the airport and make promise to be back soon again, when…
-
Poem: Knows it All
Someone who knows it all Can’t hold himself all together when someone speaks, Trembling with an urge… ‘Let me add here’, ‘let me add there’ I know it all! Someone who doesn’t know it all, Often is quiet, Often sits there waiting, Patiently letting those, those who speak, Spill their waters of ignorance, with respect,…
-
Poem: A Man Who Laughed at the Funeral
I heard the sound behind my back, It sounded at first like the bird which tickles the ground Is someone laughing? Why not? After all, for once, we are all around. Isn’t it the time to share? The true faces, the true feelings of ours? Left to survive on this tiny Earth Till someone will…
anastasiaushakova.co.uk 