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Oleg Semonov
four poems
TO JOSEPH BRODSKY
One of some rare dishes on the poor
table of a culturally down kitchen,
you were instantly moved aside
by those to whom the ditches
were much closer and more delicious.
They considered you had made a mistake
by having preferred the spirit to body,
the internal life to external death,
the eternal trace to the collective drinking
in the Universe of superstitious ideas
based on a set of the odious isms. But what
caused you to challenge the system
armed with no Bible but nuclear physics -
had a long journey from Marvell to Auden
and was exiled from St Peters city.
Indeed you deserved this God-given right
not to hear again "Shut up your mouth!",
to be a phenomenon - to remain
a Poet, Citizen, moral lighthouse
and, let me note, above all, a Man.
© Oleg Semonov 07
INSIGNIFICANT
Breakfast, morning, crowded bus,
sleepy faces, cough and buzz.
Road to the office, traffic-light,
empty thoughts - wrong or right.
Sudden flash - her frightened eyes
opposite me - fire or ice.
My instant gaze - without reply,
her attempt to suppress
smile or cry.
How to ask where she goes,
about her name - God only knows.
But time is up - her getting off,
leaving me my senseless cough.
© Oleg Semonov 07
THE BEST OF ROLES
I've never wanted
to play Prince Hamlet's role
and never dreamt
to be his close fellow,
nor his adviser,
nor his dying shadow,
nor his competitor
fighting for the throne.
But if I chance
to choose the best of roles,
I will prefer
that of Yorick's bones.
© Oleg Semonov 07
A MISSIONARY MAN
What does it mean to be
a missionary man today
born of the same blood
given by His own will
to help him enter the dark?
I ask myself over again
when he catches the suspicious looks
of those of the same race
armed with a ton of books
against him and his shield of faith.
Why does he smile when they
drown in the doubting mind
scared by the running days,
and fear to live and die
remaining deaf and blind?
I stare and think on how
to cross this invisible border
separating me from the alive
who, following him to the water,
can see the reflected light.
© Oleg Semonov 07
Oleg Semonov was born in the city of
Makeyevka (Donetsk region, Ukraine) and graduated from
Donetsk National University
(Department of English Philology)
in 1990. He has since worked as interpreter / translator for commercial companies in
Ukraine.
Oleg's work also appears in Electric Acorn, Eclectica Magazine and
North American anthologies.Email:
olsmn@ukr.net
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