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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