Monday, January 3, 2011

Vladimir Mayakovsky.

"the first rock and roll star"
-Patti Smith

Past one o’clock. You're probably in bed. 
The Milky Way is like Oka of silver
No need for me to rush. I have no reasons left
to stir you with the lightnings of my cable ferver.
And so they say, the incident dissolved.
The Love Boat smashed up on the dreary routine.
We’re even. There’s no use in keeping the score
of mutual hurts, affliction and spleen.
Look here, the world exudes an eerie calm.
The sky bequeathed to us its constellations.
In periods like this I’d like to be the one
with ages, history and the creation.


You must take to the pen only
when there is no other way to
speak except through poetry.

How to Make Poetry (1926.)

1 comment:

Theo said...