Posted in Art, My Poetry, Writing

From Prison to War

Handcuffs weigh much more than gravestones.

Visar Zhiti

Forsaken and forlorn,

I’ve rarely seen the sun.

There were walls,

Dark, cold, hard,

Impossible to break.

There were bars and metal gates

As I’d exit my humble abode,

Commanded by those in control

To work, work, work

And seek repentance for my sins:

I was not gray like everybody else,

I thought of joy and colorful desires,

I thought of skies — not dull and rainy veils —

But azure valleys graced by lively clouds.

I thought of changing laws set by our King

And making life for everybody simpler.

I thought that love would one day save our souls

And banish with its rays the pallid winter

That is this world.

I ended up in here.

Continue reading “From Prison to War”

Posted in My Poetry, Writing


As I succumb to winter’s fiery claws,
The shadows rise
And cloud my eyes;
I feel myself forgetting nature’s laws.

As icy hands grip hard my burning heart,
I feel it break
As I awake
To darkness, which on my soul leaves its mark.

Ice melts in spring as strife and sadness do,
But it’s too late:
Too deep in hate
I’ve found myself… Now death is nothing new.


Posted in My Poetry

Hearing His Voice

A beautiful video by Apple. Made me both sad and happy the first time I saw it.

And a short vague poem inspired by it.

A beautiful mind,

So bluntly ignored,

Ineloquent words

That make you feel bored.

This prejudice hauls

Him into a cell.

There’s no one to see

And nothing to tell.

Poetic and smart,

Concealed from the world,

Surrounded by suns

Yet still feeling cold.

What might he then think?

That he’s a mistake;

His future and past

Both burned at the stake…

Remember that love’s 

A quite useful skill.

Impatience won’t help –

A smile always will.



Posted in Blogging

In Search of a Perfect Blog

Well, I can certainly say I’ve created and deleted more blogs than I care to count. Reasons varied, but most often it was because I was either unhappy with their content or didn’t know what to post apart from photos and poetry. This time, though, I’m determined and will do everything I can to make sure I don’t disappear from WordPress for months and then all but destroy my blog content because of a harmless existential crisis. Yep, that’s happened before.


So, point one. I love photography and writing (generally poetry though there are dozens of ideas in prose that I’m working on). As unpleasant circumstances have left me without my beloved Canon DSLR, I know use my iPhone for photographs. Not the best option, but not terrible either. I love photographing nature although I’m planning to try out new photography genres as well. If I have time…

Point two, I’m a university student. Which is why I now have less time for doing things I like, but I’m not particularly sad as I love uni life. It seemed as if I’d be a shool student forever and the terrible boredom of schoolwork would never cease, yet here I am, in one of the most prestigious Russian universities, studying Journalism and PR… and I’m happy. With university came lots of new problems, as well as great friends, so the good mostly outwieghs the bad. And taking into account that my department is lucky to have classes start at ten in the morning rather than the standard eight-thirty and this year we’ve got awesome Saturdays when the representative of the Ministry of International Affairs shares her experience with us, puny mortals… Yeah, it’s pretty cool. And almost never boring.

Point three, I live in Russia. You know, until recently, I never thought that was anything special. I’ve been living here for six years, five of which I spent studying in school; now I’m finishing my first year of university. And only after getting into said university did I find out that no, Russia isn’t the cosy little town near the capital which I live in. Russia can’t even be characterized by its capital, or Saint-Petersburg, or its undoubtedly rich history, or anything my mind perceived for these five years spent in ignorance. My new friends, who are as wacky and weird and wonderful as you can imagine, have told me the awesomest and at the same time severely disturbing stories about Russian village life, the true meaning of vodka in the lives of Russians, such phrases as (literal translation) ‘take your pants off and run’ and sooo many variants of Russian swear words that I’m sure I haven’t learned as much in the seventeen years prior to meeting these very knowledgeable friends. The atmosphere around me is too Russian! I need normalcy sometimes! Which is why I go to LukeIsNotSexy‘s Youtube channel from time to time. Which should say a lot about how very strange nice it is here.

What now?

My photos, poetry and prose. Videos too, if procrastination doesn’t get a hold of me. Posts about books and movies that I watch. And TV shows (in wake of April 24th there should be a lot of Game of Thrones). University life. University life in Russia. Life in Russia aka How To Survive In a Country Where People Rarely Think Before They Act and Never Think After They Drink. All in all, content is going to be random, but as for reviews of books/films/TV the genre is probably going to be fantasy/crime/history most of the time. And classical literature. I love it too much.

Intro 2.0

I guess I’ll end the post with an excerpt from my very first poem (which is crap, I assure you) which should tell you what I was like at twelve, a beginner in all things pertaining to art and a firm believer in the kindness and honesty of the whole human race. It’s unbelievable I’ve changed so drastically. Here goes:


I watched it in awe

As flames performed a silent dance,

Switching shapes every second,

Making sparks fly around one candle,

Then another



So swift and silent as it moves. So free! Yes,

Freedom and liberty, limitless dreams,

That’s what flames symbolize. For me.


It became a little sun, it became my inspiration,

Always there at night, during the day.


It gave me motivation to pursue my goals

No matter what will happen.


I’m in love with fire’s never-ceasing nature…

I wonder if you see it too? No matter how many times

It goes out,

Fire will always burn again.


God, I hope my poetry has improved.