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Heavy road wanderer.
Not a penny to his name.
And as if his feet bare,
on the cobblestones.
Blood oozing, knocked legs hurt.
Heart beating out of my chest.
Like a lonely bird,
from the depths to the heights breaks.
Broad Russian mother.
Throughout the temples and palaces.
But everywhere on the porch,
Poverty is missing.
Though Russia eternal glory
the breadth of his soul.
How to find a shelter.
If everywhere is not so.
As written in Scripture,
Is not that for us.
And everywhere now wanderers
and deceit in business.
From very early in the morning mayhem.
The first guests at the ball.
Those that remember you gentlemen,
Remember his Christ.
In the church I see often go.
Not only on you cross.
And with chains of gold,
Decoration of Satan.
After all, the camel is even easier
jump through the eye of a needle.
On the perfidy of your gold,
on tears and blood.
And that is where the wanderer
to find happiness.
After all, Russia eternal glory
the breadth of his soul.
We hope to have Dmitry appear soon on English Speaking Russian Talk Radio- WW.I-NETRADIO.COM
I Loved You
I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,
At times too jealous and at times too shy.
God grant you find another who will love you
As tenderly and truthfully as I.
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
A woman with a smile
Her head rested on her hand
A scarf wove its way around her shoulders
She looked straight into the camera
And her smile
It was slight
And it was serene
But nonetheless it was a smile
What is she thinking
He wonders as he looks into her eyes
Is she dreaming
Is she thinking
Is she wondering
Or does she know
Know what it is she is looking for.
Or just waiting for it to happen.
Is she sure of herself
And of her destiny
Or is she apprehensive
About the things to come
Thinking of her future
Is she to be alone for the journey
Or with a mate
A mate who understands her soul her heart her feelings
Is that what she wants or does she yearn for something else
A life with just her thoughts to keep her company
Maybe she is not sure
Is it best to answer to herself alone
To be the captain of her own course
To think her own thoughts
And write her own poetry
But what is poetry if no one is there to read it
No one to share it with
To understand what she is saying
To care what she is writing
And thinking and doing
She has her thoughts
Of love of happiness of a future
And yet she wants someone to know all this
To know how she feels
To feel it along with her
The feelings of success of defeat
Of sorrow of joy
What are these feelings if there is no one to share them with
Are they without meaning
Without any footprints in the sand
She knows what she wants
And only time will tell if it all comes true
Or if she is left to ponder her thoughts for eternity
James Tucci, Miami, Florida, October 2012.