Poems of my heart.

Grand hotels

The space of grand hotels is something greatest,
Like travel on a cloud in fancy lands.
It’s something unexplainable, et cetera,
Like being here with you, into your hands.

Let’s have a secret fun at night, today.
Let’s put on rolls at midnight, quick and quiet.
Let’s take a digicam to tape it “not for sale”,
We’re checking corridors in non-aggressive free-style.

Of course, it’s like a teenage or a childhood.
But who can tell that happiness is old?
Respectable apartments, silk and black wood.
You understand that love is fun and gold.

We sign our paychecks, say “good bye” to owners,
And kiss a little cat, which lives in hall.
Our luggage’s outdoor, but we return there.
And now the destination is at home.

2003

Charm

Love me more than yourself,
I’m your pride, I’m your wealth.
I’m key to your heart.
I’m your second part.
Kiss my eyes, kiss my hands,
I am your happy lands.
Happy starts, happy ends,
Happy round,
Happy dance,
Happy life,
Happy love,
Happy sense.

2003

I am

I’m French girl, while cooking French entrée and soup.
I’m French girl, while kissing, while being with you.

I’m Russian, while bicycle riding in June,
Through mountains and hills, summertime, afternoon.

I’m English, like England,
I’m Scottish, like Scotch.
I’m Welsh, like a flowers of Wales.
I’m Finnish in Finland.
In Deutschland I’m Deutsch.
I’m Irish on Saint Patrick’s days.

2003

Divan –sleeping

What a picture! Living-room,
Which designed as comp game Doom.
Big divan, white fur on it.
And mob scene on rest. They sleep.

Now I count naked legs,
Shoes and glasses, how much there?

All mobiles are on the floor.
Windows (French) were used as door.
Their visit-cards in bath
With wax candles, someone’s pass.

My conjectures moves to hall –
Yesterday we played paint-ball.
Ah, of course, we used to win.
Princess Royal now is Queen.

And tomorrow, thank you, God,
Week-end, two days “week-end” start.

2003

To Eva

Thank you. You were fond of apple trees,
Which were forbidden, cautions from Archangels.
You started history of mankind, war and peace –
For those, who read the Bible, know their Angels.

You know, you were so young, how old were you?
So simple way to differ lie or true –
To eat one apple, simply eat an apple.

Today I’m twenty two, I’m giving them a favor.
And apple juice, and vitamins, and savor.
I eat an apple, and I don’t believe this version.
The taste of knowledge… Issue’s controversial.

I’ve got a hope, that everything in life
Has taste of fruits, I know what are temptations.
Despite of all, mom Eva was audacious.
Now boys and girls have got their lovely fashions.

So, thank you, mama Eva, very much.
But Paradise for apple? That’s to much.

2003

To myself

To keep the ball rolling,
Join forces and hands.
Big time in my story,
Big time and big sense.

Do well what you do,
Make headway, you let it –
Respectful, prestigious,
Roll out long red carpet.

2003

To him

It was a journey through a desert
To treasures of my own.
Through dunes and salt lakes,
Time and weather,
To second heart, at home.

I saw his face inside my mind.
I heard his voice, each word.
Through different people, with my guide.
He was my guide, much more.

It was a journey through my heart.
I wept each day, I loved.
My tears were rain, now rains behind.
I’m glad, yes, I’m so glad.

I still remember tears of love,
Hot chill runs through my skin.
What is the love? One real love?
My real love to him?

2003

Quatre seasons

Quatre seasons, notre seasons.
La douceur dans le Mond.
C’est je suis en Septembre, Octobre, Decembre.

Je suis bien dans ma peau.
Je t’embrace, tes cheveaux.
C’est la bague de Cartier.
C’est je suis en Janvier, Fevrier et Juillet.

Tu es bien dans ta peau.
Tu m’embrace, mes cheveaux.
C’est un mot au cadran,
Mars, Avril va tres bien.

Les seasons de l’amour.
Notre seasons – nuits et jours.
La douceur est en tout,
C’est Juin, Mai et l’Aout.

La douceur et l’amour
Va tres bien. Pour toujour.
Les seasons, pour toujour.
Va tres bien – temps de nous.

Va tres bien – montre de nous.
Notre douceur est en tout.

2003

Christmas chant

I was along – sad weeping song –
Walking along river so strong.
River Neva, one autumn evening,
Island and beach, fortress bells ringing,
Counting quarters
Peter-Paul fortress.
I was so sad, I felt so bad.
Lonely and cold,
But I haven’t told.
Thank you, my God, my Jesus Christ.
Christmas so merry, and smile in your eyes.
Thank you for midnight, and thank you for day.
Thank you for words, which I’m going to say.

2003

My London

My London, every cloud on your sky dome
Was like a pearl with golden blushing cheeks.
So moveless and voluminous, so curly,
As well as curly-headed marble Greeks.

Do you remember me, my shining glances,
My smiles, which I had left on Oxford street.
And my reflections there, in mirror-glasses.
I’m here now again to see, to greet.

I feel your taste in tea with milk and jelly.
I hear your perfumes, gentle as your air.
My London, you are charming almost daily,
But always you are beautiful to stay.

I left my heart beside Westminster Abbey,
My pulse in pulse of roads, in your veins.
I hardly see you through the mist, My London.
I’ve bought umbrella to collect your rains.

2003

January 27, Tuesday

Looking at the North,
Through window, not my house.
I thought I won jack-pot.
I won your eyes and mouth.

Our legs like roots of trees.
Our hands embrace two bodies.
Tres bon matematique,
We were Greek god and goddess.

He was so handsome lad,
He treated me, like flower.
“What beauty in my bed”,
He said to me that hour.

2004

Somebody

I don’t feel love to him on mornings,
But evenings make me feel in love.
I’m walking down a street, time’s going.
I’m waiting for a second part.
On sixteen it will start.
I don’t feel love to him on evenings.
I don’t feel love at afternoons.
Strange streets, strange language, shabby buildings.
Strange way to talk about moon.
He’s double face, like moon.
He’s double-human – moon.

2004

My Japanese white curtain

March…Third of March, two thousands four…
White cover for my window, no cover for my door.

White Japanese, like velvet silk, it’s curtain.
White Japanese rideaux, and no one dirt it.

Enlightened room, enlightened soul,
Enlightened weather.
So fair sky, so fair morn,
White fair desert.

I’d really wanna touch white shield of my protection
By brush and color, just to paint on it reflection.

My Japanese three meters long protection.
White Japanese. No dots, no words, no question.

2004

Last day.

We don’t know our falling apart.
We don’t know our end, when we start.
We don’t know what will be in the end.
When we start our castle on the sand.

What are eyes, when two young at the start.
What are eyes, when two young fall apart.
We don’t know our words in the end,
When the end is just castle on the sand.

Different eyes, different starts, different sands.
Different words, different castles, different ends.

2004

My summer

Oh, let it be,
My summer comes to me.

One day I found again a letter,
That nobody can get it –
Some bright, and wet,
And green and red –
Hot summer of my dear land.

What can I do?
I write again
About dears and my gain,
Which spills from glass
Of French champagne
To words of love,
And love is win.

Oh, let me be my summer prize,
My key to Paradise.

2007

Music

Join to my piano
You will hear,
That in a world
All we are near.