Leon GUNIN ---- English Poetry

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     1. LIFE and DEATH
     2. Abstractions
     3. Monologues of Death  
     4. LULLABIES
     5. THE_ONE
     6. Backslashes
     7. In Midst
     8. Third Moon



Leon GUNIN

LIFE AND DEATH


IN BETWEEN
between birth and death
between death and birth

...distance?..
...gift?..
...energy?..
..............?..

...which ...can't be measured.
... ...can be taken away.
...which is both can and can not.

between you and me
between him and you
there is only darkness darkness darkness

and only fear in all eyes


NON-EXISTENCE
birth and death
two giants
they have stolen our free will

and that small miserable
carla between them
(penis between two legs)

he calls himself LIFE
i am calling him aging process
don't think don't act –
and you'll be younger then

stupidity and compromise
are your security idols-tools
more stupid you are
more aging process leaves you alone

between the past and future
between birth and death
we are squeezed
we do not exist

who can define
the miserable "present"
this illusion: "before the future
but after the past"

non-existence demands
less actions from you
less freedom less existence
and you are safe
respected
loved
honored

and will die
a honorable fool


PROCESS
i am calling LIFE
a process
designed
as the british law
to respond to any action
by contra-action

any of your action
causes a process
which is a small "life"
on dusty shelves
or in soulless computers
where spirits of bureaucracy
in their cages
are the engine

they processing you
your every step
your every cell
your every skin mark
your most confidential secrets
your most private sentiments

clerks without names
as colorless as the worms
they are eating you as worms
peace by peace
silently and heartless

have no love
no emotions
no talent
no brain

say nothing
want nothing
write nothing

they will not
will not cess-kill-pro you then

you have process without action
life without life
there is nothing to kill


AMNESIA
who remember
himself
as a fetus
as a cell
in another body

who remember
what was before
that another body
before
the first stream
of light
in his eyes
or first
breath of air
in his lungs

vigorous kings
on their thrones
or the arrogant riches
in their illusive wealth

who knows
who we are
who we were
who we going to be

this black sky with the stars
above us
with questions only
no answers

this black essence around us
which is called "society"
and kills the most talented
thinking animals

this black whole inside us
where the world is falling
little by little

this is the big AMNESIA
virtual cell
in the virtual prison
which is called "life"

1995 Montreal


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TWO VERSES

a
Whisper

the dark moon
of my
ethnologically
corrected desires
is not a satellite
of my existence

it forms an orbit
around
a milky
mysterious
object
a universal X

an object
of external nature

it rules
from its pedestal
in the Universe A
forcing to respond
the skeleton
of my soul

and probably yours
too...


b
Roofs of Mind

ivory thoughts
irony bells
projection of my thoughts
on the screen
one city
another one
there is my life
my whole life
countries and cities
the blue sky
some clouds
hands and eyes
people
my beloved ones
and music
my friends' voices
from the TV screen

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Leon GUNIN

ABSTRACTIONS

a circle of verses



abstractions

two categories of things:
ones that we eat and use -
and the abstractions

first is immanent
second is life

life lays between extremes
like birth and death
known and unknown
love and hatred

abstractions are useless
as life itself

we are just because
without paying anything
just receiving existence
for free

a cheap thing is not the best one
it's useless
like abstractions


balance

world is balance
and balance is world

if here is frost
there is heat
if i say "left"
he says "right"

there are no good actions
unpunished
and bad actions
not confronted by good ones

any movement
has a counter-movement
any achievement
has its black side

certainly balance is death
the static of death
because balance is a prevention
of corruption of the inner plan

hostages of uni-dimensional time
we know that if here is a beginning
there is always an end


birds

birds of unknown
thoughts are flying
in inner sky

the day is red
in the midst of mountains
of the internal realm

nothing happens
only deep deep silence
without any desire

however birds are flying
even without thinking
just hanging in the air

it means that their host-mind
is a reflection
of unknown

a bird itself



poetry

there were poets
pound and eliot
and there were poets
like academic worms

if sun becomes sun
moon becomes moon
however it never happens
in real life

people love comfort
and there are shining for them
false moons and false suns
24 / 7 / 12



morrison

bad taste is always a winner
there is no room for light in the light
if everything flashes
we will not see each other again

he was ambitious
however not an arrogant snob
not a jerk simply a genius
in this world only self-esteem matters

he came with an auto-technician's tool
to a molecular laboratory
reorganizing atoms
by his pain-and-love heart

the only american who did it



passengers

we are passengers
everything is transitional

supplanters for somebody imaginary
temporary recruit

logic is so obvious
does it obviously logic

initial item is known
also destination

always in transition
no time left beyond

nothing happens in transition
nothing important
nothing more important
then departure and arrival

no personal belongings
are allowed on board


for us passengers



a peak

a peak is an overlapping dimension

when our dimension is full
the energy spatters its strips
into another one

one that's better

vascular blood and sandal tree
are the witnesses of this mountain

like you and me
and one mysterious substance


January 2003, Montreal

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Lev GUNIN

MONOLOGUES
OF DEATH



CORRUPTION OF WORDS

don't say
worms are crawling about me
scrabs are scrabbling my face
stumps decaying..... stinking.....
don't say it now

people are stone-deaf

my worms are men without faces
my enemies are crawling about
no limbs to throw them down
scrabs of misery have covered my life

adam's grandchildren are blinded

this age is an age of jackal
rats' and jackals' muzzles
entertain crowds
from the mass fun-fairs
of the dreams' corporations

words have been extinct

faceless people
are marching in files
against me
against us
their name is legion

ichor covers the world




ASSOCIATION

for others
death is a coffin catafalque black cloths
for me death is just lack of space
will follow me even AFTER

sixpence will not be found for funeral
i will be lamented for by two-three friends only
mother -- wife -- children
and nobody else

my body would be burned in a stoker like a billet
sealed up in its dreams
tests forms worlds infinities
i'll leave for "another world" like mozart not salieri

in our narrow apartment
where we all nestle deprived of space
even a meter will not be gained after me
only emptiness will be left from cogitation

tabernacle filled by light -
my soul - will burn in a horror stoker
love compassion dignity daring of pain
all will burn

an euthanasia because of an incurable ailment
contagious love for mankind




BEHIND GLASS

people... they are behind glass
across the street from me
at the corner

i see their happy faces
their well-groomed hands
i can't hear the voices

they are seating in cafes
approaching in cars
spending dollars in casinos

cuddling with my whole body
perching my forehead nose and hands
i'm looking at them through the glass

nobody takes me (as if i was blind)
across the street
nobody takes me through

only when i sleep
i live at the opposite corner
and someone is staring at me through that edge



MORES CUIQUE SUI FINGUNT FORTUNAM

as a biblical servant who refused to multiply money
i'll be punished prematurely before fortune's conviction

i am sleeping on stones my couch is cheaper then pallet
it is crashing my bones flatten my kidney violates liver

books on paper i can not afford. -- a primitive monitor
darkens my vision abc's letters became undistinguished

rucksacks with purchases from cheapest groceries
are breaking my back to ten or maybe twenty pieces

my enemies torment me by cruel tortures
disintegrating me tearing small pieces

no purpose friends (my enemies) all for nothing
the smallest mainspring the strongest in me is unbreakable

you're removing the burden from my soul discharging nacelle
the balloon will get up you'll not catch it you'll not posses it



KNOWLEDGE

if you heard that the knowledge has ten lines in total
this is wrong because knowledge has ten of its likenesses

if someone has collected a sea of hyperbolas
this is wrong because knowledge is more then a metaphor

if he found an adequate word for the meaning
this is just an illusion a finesse a gimmick

knowledge is fate of schubert bach and beethowen
knowledge is the grave of mozart

knowledge is milton's pharos in darkness lining by verses
fugitiveness of villon curse of berg and bartok

all these jugglers of words magicians phonemes' trickers
inside invented by someone wiredrawn restrictions
opulent in all twelve different meanings

do they worth van gogh's ear chopin's nostalgia
tragedy of ivaszkiewicz's disagreements?

knowledge is socrates' prize for all he did for athens
this is byron's death and musorgsky's wealthiness
this is yoke of eliot kafka shevchenko
this is oem silhouette and mayakovsky's famous letter

no value with your puffy achievements
elitarian poses of the arrogant snobs

death will bag your knowledge as spikes
death will burn them disperse them in windy air

nothing will be left from your bogus achievements
memory about them will be erased your elitism will glow

only experience of transparent will stay forever
of those who were naive for your "wisdom"
experience of the great will stay

non-destroyable part of those who searched for meaning not knowledge
will stay: experience - source of knowledge

January, 2003. Montreal


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Leon GUNIN

LULLABIES

To David PATASHINSKY
"To a Master Higher Then Myself"

beetle

wet curls of air drifting from sunday
cathedral columns refilled by fume
non-packed present __its threat to tangent
colorless phantom's lips
these all are my senses
(non-induratable on realm's table-cover)
where will send them a denoting finger?..

space's thoughts are stunningly soulless
a wind is sweeping dust from empty corks
concerning the future
a TV-screen's prophet
is absolutely sterile
it won't happen
there is nothing under the sun


requital (reprisal)

__ failed to separate
it whispered
movement of waves
there is no room for fingers
in your head
they are on your back
plasticine mothers
parents of forms

what's laying on his window
is a brick of plasticine -
a substantive reality
actualizing a self-existence
weep about what did not come true
your eyes are effluencing
by creasing tears

malax them
roll up a corpuscle
here it is -
the self-sufficiency
faded lamp erases colors

sleep


project

turtleous
crocodileous hippopotamus
been crossing the street
on red light
a belch
of a reticule caterpillar
knocked him down
at full speed
elephant was ambulanced
to a hospital

waiting online is a single
he has four faces
one is hangable on a chairback

_____amen
line _____ eating its tail
dawning
and you're still not sleeping
go sleep



bread

in front of a bakeryhouse
an umbrella of mouths
wide opened

to eat everything

a black hole
consumes a prophesy
faces are glued
by black cauldrons
of mouths

ellipses are absorbing the bodies
black-eyed myth
sizzls through the eye-apple-mouths
fall asleep

open eyes - you -
like gunpoints -
spitting death



a tower
a tower
and a point
a small
and a big

it's dawning
a mountain swallowed a mouse
a point decomposed a tower
don't eat the green
will nibble


small piggy-bank

it's desperately bright
shadows are like pyramids
i've been coming here 2 days in a row
my newly-formed baalamb
with a drop-slot put on preparedness
a piggy-bank has a drop-slot on her back
your drop-slot is in your tender perineum
piggy-wiggy-bank for male seed
hoovered during last sunday

convolution of your frizzles
are whimsier then those of your brain
nature has many talents
as long as you live
you keep learning by mistakes
committed by others

everything's boring

my legal spouse's wisdom
came to an equinoctial balance
with the platitude of a moon-faced lap-dog
living in a well-maintained flat
in addition "merci mon amour"
speaking out with a heavy english accent

an image of few nickels for a parking-meter
is sufficient to pay for accommodation

see ya tomorrow


gyre (spiral)

everything bent in half to half
at a skiing resort
a girl of ambiguous age -
her double head -
was pushed into talking

while speaking
the head has cracked
through the centre
in the middle of a word
uncovering a bearable brain
with little green eyes

the brain has begun to speak
in a low contralto

rich friend's helicopter
has been slowly falling
at the barricaded structures
there were no semi-drunks
at the tennis court
a meteorite went through the racket
landing like a ball on the carpet
yellow mould of enzymes
bent in as small ropes
a spiral



falling asleep

dear compatriots
planetians in the thousandth generation
take a deep breath
keep your eyes peeled
buon jiorno! my dears
plump your pillows
we're leaving on a journey
aboard an ATV of love
take a nap snore while it's not shaking
till next station
till next civilization
sweet dreams!

August, 2001. Montreal


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August, 2001. Montreal
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Leon (Lev) GUNIN

OBLITERATION

___ (THE ONE)

this powerful crescendo of the night storm
this magic of drops in nowhere
only you must know something about it
you THE ONE
the oblitier

wet pavements full of tears from the sky
dizzy windows from picasso paintings
they are shadows in your eye
shadows of chinese theatre
reflections in non-organic brain-creation

when blood from the wound of the horizon
will gradually chew blue spherical background
you will be writing the code of the next day
this very skeleton of universe
obliteration

August, 2003. Montreal


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Lev (Leon) GUNIN

BACKSLASHES

poetry circle


1

rust and covey to the angle
where all of us born
thirsty as mango
(second warning)

been as glad as you were
(armoire and lances)
willingly there
are you an angel?

third village riding
(last warning - backslash)
where are you hiding?
pick up nuts bones ash

leaves as yellow as purple
rural road to the ocean
tortured by vulture
(slow motion)

dust and mountains
sun ... empty ... hopeless
i am my fortress....
and dot is my hostess.


3

close your eyes
can you see your smile?
days are mice
go sleep awhile

day after day
your cartoon escape enzyme
yellow or gray?
fane or gym?

don't listen to me
i am thirsty and sharp
my eyes are blades
i'm a wolf or shark

this winter i'm a bear
awaken from sleep
i'm a grizzly or a panther
i'm a weep after weep

tell me: you're still alive
grass is your bed
take 'way this knife
live or dead



3

price is priceless
life is death
you're a princess
i'm your dad

i'm a northman
my face is ice
my kingdom worth me
my LIME SURPRISE

wind is windy
dark and wet
you are wendy
i'm your dad

princess wendy
come closer kid
roars are random
sit a bit

sit with your father
read a tale
where are others?
don't worry hey!

storm is over
waves are still
who's your rover
what you feel

you're not in a hurry
we still have time
eternity's hurting
and bitter lime


4

the beach was empty
sea waves like glass
the sand like brandy
under us

all dreams are nothing
be welcomed day
i'm your brother
you sister kay

good morning sister
let's take a bath
you're not a twister
you're alphabet

i'm reading all you
letter by letter
i love and i suite you
better and better

no measure escapes us
i swear it's endless
all drops are wrath
because love is death


November, 2003. Montreal

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Leon GUNIN

IN THE MIDST

poetry circle

routine
lime orchid and grizzly spores
in beverly hills
of pontiac spotlights

essential quota
of daily readings
in the middle of desert

crossing roads
on green
with others...

i must be i
and you must be you
before we die

and after death...
it is depending...
depending....


good and bad
what is good for a human
can be bad for a monkey
in a haunted house
on hills above sea

plastic roofs are floating
from the sky made of gold
silver windows go up and down
as if they were cabins

did i tell taxi driver to stop on death?
...don't remember...
maybe he does...

avoiding traces of blood
may cost life
if you're a monkey


words
words are flowers
ornaments for daily routine
as coffee in fingers
or treasure in mind

take my bus ticket
it is wet...
not tears...
don't think of...

we're lost among castles
mansions and fortresses
of mont royal
a bird mountain

and your eyes
are squeezing
as mines


cousine
dearest cousin!
what do you think
of outings
with an orchid in hand

should we go together
as groom and bride?

what about time?
is something wrong with it?
or this is only your smile
deepen into thoughts and
coquetry and tease


are you?
are you insane?
not me not me

two pairs of hamburgers
three slices of chicken...

who's ear in your beverage?
van gough's or mine?

sad views black-and-white
of autumn landscapes
through this car window
they run
out of time
with all their inhabitants

and my wishes are
far away
as my thoughts...


daily
cutting edges
with your knife
standing firmly
in your life

splashing bursting weeping laughing
swimming rushing warning muffing

loosing patience
twice a week
cheating sometimes
prick up prick

dancing parking running banting
fighting glomming barking hunting

every morning
staying home
learning learning
biodome

being a teacher
being a whore
that is you
and your great store


be good
be your self as you were
years ago when your camea
smashed into a small tree

this is not a bargain not a plea
this is a time a look of gea
this is life and maybe poetry

dark sky has lowered
over and over
gods are with us again

be good not a coward
gods... they came... they're taking over
they have more muscles
and more brain

wait again
two thousands years
till we'll recover
from ashes and ashes -
and become
man

Montreal, spring 2004

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THE THIRD MOON

Lev (Leon) GUNIN


on the verge

my vision is my home
my castle
my armour

by river
bank
i am alone

and web
of my feelings
spreads away

... like an army...


so do i

who said

that hands
are hands?

they are
thunder lights
electrical wires

they sneak
into you
like arrows

you're bleeding
my little friend

so do i


belvedere

a pigeon
a squirrel
and a sparrow
came into light
attracted by unknown
(say food)

nutrition
or an instinct
of unknown
dragged them away
from higher brush
or refuge

what found they?
death?.. love?.. or satisfaction?..
they met themselves
by broken mirror side


rebel

night
dream
violence
blood

nothing more
love...
sublimation
of desire

who
we are

who
we were

no importance
nothing will
change us


causa prima

religion
is a backbone
of existence

mythology
or self mythology
unconsciously
develops
into us

like game
and money
and main instincts
are part of us

a program
very balanced

and then - a blow:
and self-destruction
comes


sotto voce

taste
as a measure
of self-conscience

be a fish
live quietly
swim breath

orange and blue
lilac and brown
aqua and purple

colors are senses
of fish
their emotional magnus

poetical senses -
metaphors -
are dying

allusion
to eliot's
criticism on criticism

recycled property
hybrid compilatio
second hand words

morrison's roots in rimbaud
artaud - in baudelaire
revival of souls

we are
the same "who we are?"
forever


memory

personalizing data
from library shelves
getting wiser
by the touch of wind

hard disk of your brain
is now empty
tabula raca
now you can load
more and more

we're not machines
just because our features
working together
all in one
super modality

logos medium
multy tasks
senses affect
reaction action
temptation

of couse they're copying us
they're almost there
our killers and kings
we are altered
as we lost part of us -
NATURE -
invisible part
that was the main....