Poetry...

[Yulia]

HEY BABIES!
This topic is about poetry and everything that poetry express. I've been interested in poetry for whole my life(s). I can't live without poems, especially I like those which express instincts, feelings and description of nature. But I really Love those poems which put you into the place, give you good description and feeling.
Oh, I almost forgot to remind you of our greatest poet Shevchenko, his poems like fantasy, mystery and get right to the heart(if you have a huge Ukrainian HEART)

I would be really happy to see your poems and put my.

P.S. My poetry is awfull - you will love it!!!

[Zhenya]

Yulia, Yulia, Yulia.
Now, you reminded me about one day in Ukraine when I with my friends went to "Dacha" to have fun, to smoke and drink some vodka&beer. My friend Artem made this poetry that day on a piece of foil paper using a nail.

*****Narod shlyaetsa
*****A Zheka valyaetsa
*****Ryadom Mishka primostilsa
*****On ved' vodkoy ugostilsa

*****A na lavochke sidit,
*****Potihon'ku "Temp" dymit
*****Nash Artem, spokoinyy paren',
*****Vesom on svoim uvalen'.

*****My grustim, nemnozhko v kayfe
*****Pivo konchilos', no v "life"e
*****Vsyo normal'no, zhizn' idet
*****Tuchka po nebu plivyot
*****Smert' spokoyno dush sosyot
*****Sotni dve v bol'noy strane
*****Chto sidit v bol'shom der'me
****************************************************************
NO NASH MIR-BUTYLKA PIVA,
ON ZHELEZEN... RASTA VIVA.

Regards..........................................................

PS: Almost forgot to tell you that I AM Shevchenko. So you may consider me a great poet.

[This message has been edited by Zhenya (edited 10 December 1999).]

[Yulia]

Wow, that was funny, I don't even know what to say.
OK, here comes my first, so called "white poem", you know - no rhyme to it:

MY LIFE
I open my eyes and here is my first day - in the forest and start to run very fast, inailing aromas of fresh spring rain
Once I get out I jump into the ocean and summer sun touches my skin, oh so hot.
Big wave comes over me and I drown...
Suddenly I end up in the big city, it's fall. Little appartment is full of cigarette smoke and drunk people, I smoke my first cigarett, get really drunk and jump out of the window...
I fall into huge snowdrift. Some mystery guy with black hair, deep brown eyes and dark skin, which looks so strange on the white snow, takes me out and carries me somewhere. I push him away and now everything is so easy - it's spring again, sping forever!..

Actually it's really crippie, but I'm no poet, so don't read it if you don't want to.

[Yulia]

Hey people, hey again. Dear Zhenya, I'm sorry, I didn't even said 'thanks' for your poem. Thank you, baby.
Now I will post poetry that is not my, it's Gypsy Kings song translated to English

Don't cry for me
It doesn't give me pain
Don't cry at all for me
For the love that is ending
It is the same love

Don't cry for me
For love ending
I think of you
It will never return
The true love

I am, I am a gypsy
I always will be

I'm coming closer
But I don't find you
In bed
And love is ending for you
Don't cry for me

I am thinking
Don't cry little girl
True love
For the love we don't have
Will be because of me.

I don't know what about you guys, but I think it's beautiful!

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And tomorrow will be another day...

[B_Ungaro]

Greetings,
You folks need to get off those left handed
cigarettes. You know, the one with that kind of a sweet smell.

[This message has been edited by B.Ungaro (edited 13 December 1999).]

[Zhenya]

I don't understand what are you talking about. Could you tell me more about left-handed cigarettes.
Your poem is also beautiful Yulia. But I don't think Gipsys make love in bed. More like on the grass.
When we get together, I'll read to you more poems of my friend Artem. For me he is the best poet, because the more drunk he gets- the better poems he writes. That is the pure talent. So, actually did Shevchenko. If he wasn't as drunk as he was on his birthday- he'd probably lived longer.
Regards...

[Yulia]

Hey B.Ungaro! I know I'm not that good, but there is one thing I need to tell you: I never-never use anything lefthanded.
My ex started to smoke marijuana when he was 18, he did it for one year, then quit. After that he didn't smoke even regular cigarettes for two years. One day he got my promise that I will never try drugs.
Now I can't brake my promice. And I don't really want to. Smoking is all right sometimes, as well as drinking, but who knows what will happen after one will try drugs.
So,B.Ungaro, you better post your poem if you can show us something better.(and even if you don't, feel free.)

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And tomorrow will be another day...