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Poetry and the Stories Behind It

Between the Verses

Sometimes I bake.
Sometimes I make jewelry.
But I always love my dachshund.
He has the best listening skills ever,
even when my words don’t make any sense.
He accepts me as I am,
without a word of disgust or regret,

without a word of prepossession.

I Fell for Fall

The threads of rain.
The smell of Champagne. 
Not bad at all – the feeling of being slightly drunk.
I hug your crazy leaves, dear Autumn!
I listen to your whisper in my ears.
The rain smells like Champagne again.
I drink with you, you drink with me, please!

Reflection

Why do we have our life only once?

I would like to live two, three lives more.

I would change all my words in the past,

I would never abjure my true love.

Why do we have our life only once?

Wouldn’t it be cool to have a second chance,

To reduce all our worries about one wasted day,

And so as not to rush somewhere and nowhere?

My Doubts In the Moonlight

The moonlight has melted into infinity.

My eyes touched something in the dark.

Now, I have my doubts on such an eternity,

Which is in the simple shape confined.

Thought after thought chasing a meaning,

And I can’t understand how came that

The souls of those who were with me yesterday

Can’t fly like the birds today.

I would say to my mom, “Sorry. Wish you well

In your new life! Bon Voyage!”

This poem came to me in 2008. My mom passed away in 2007. But even a year later, my loss still sore to me. I knew that she wanted to tell me something important before she was gone, but, unfortunately, it didn’t work out. I wrote poetry from the age of eight. When I left for college, and then returned home with a visit, I could not find any of my compositions. It made me upset, but my mom explained that she burned all my papers down because that was necessary to start a fire in a wood furnace. I didn’t hold my grudge against her. We lived in such conditions in which we had to survive. Battling with her cancer, she could not show her weakness, even if that weakness was a simple love. After her death, the poetry just spurted out of me, and I took it as a sign of her immortal blessing.

Happy New Year! 2020!

Snowing, snowing
powdered sugar,
on a piece of brownie –
my backyard.
Lit your light up,
my girlfriend Luna!
I can’t wait for the New-Year night!

Our trip to the Island

I mistakenly believed that no one else lives here any longer, but the dwellers are even dressed nicely and have Snickers candy bars in the local store. They are very hospitable despite a harsh living in a cold northern realm. During the short summer here, the temperature may get up to + 70 Fahrenheit, and the average temperature during the winter – 22 F, and sometimes it can drop even to – 45 F. By the middle of November, the lake turns into solid ice and remains like this until May.

On the picture here it’s the end of June.

To those who believe that writing takes nothing than sitting on your butt and picking on the keyboard

The process of writing a book is time and energy-consuming. When most people on weekends stayed in bed, I’m up at six in the morning and do my job as soon as my coffee is ready and sometimes even before that. I can work on my manuscript 6-8-10 hours straight unless somebody lets me know “Hey, don’t you realize you have a family?” Then, attending family dinner I still working on my manuscript. In my head. It’s never over!

I remember my husband’s sad observation: “You know as I look at you, I see that all your life now revolves around this table!” Yes, he was right, and I could not let that life to stop. All of them: Tammy, Marta, Andy, Dustin, Alexander, Hogan, Lidia, and Zoe, begged me to bring them to life. I felt trapped in their problems and I was already not able to leave them alone. Most of the time I wrote my novel at the round dining table. It was another resemblance to the island. There was just something about its shape – no corners. It is solid wood, warm and steady. I evolved a sort of connection with it, thereby when we finally decided to get rid of it and scheduled the delivery of the new table, I could not sleep all night. No, I don’t want corners, and I don’t want the feeling of new. I need to finish my book at this old, round table. The next day my husband chastised me, “You’re killing me! It’s just a table for Christ’s Sake!” And then, noticing my sad eyes he gave up. “I just can’t let it happen – for you to be sad over the stupid table. You can have your island! I call them now to cancel delivery.” 

It seems to me that when you work on your project for a long time, it is important to write it in a place where your thoughts are focused on the content the most, where your ideas have already created a certain atmosphere. You can think through your ideas and talk to your characters anywhere else, but to create them mechanically – picking on the keyboard or writing on the paper – it is always better if you sit in the place which you consider your work area.

As a writer you should not judge, you should understand. (Ernest Hemingway)

When writing this novel, I decided to create characters that summoned conflicting feelings. There is nothing unequivocal in this world, everything is relative to many things so that to evaluate something on a two-digit scale, which is either good or bad, is doubtful. Any behavior can be understood in terms of causes that summon the such. At the same time, I do not mean an excuse but an explanation of why a person acts in one way or another.

Since the time I was inspired by the idea of this book, with all my flesh and soul, I knew the purpose of it – to demonstrate a destructive effect of the feelings of guilt and self-accusation. How many of us haven’t made any mistake, and how many of us have not experienced shame for something that went wrong under some unfortunate circumstances? How many of us haven’t been playing a judge at least once despite our agreement to the Biblical concept “Judge not, that ye be not judged”. I wanted to bring some relief to the ones and loyalty and tolerance to the others through the clear conception that even with all the mistakes we make and grief we experienced, we can always find our life purpose.

 

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