Alex P..

Alex P.. Poems

Alex P.. Biography

Biography? ? Well. Maybe it's interesting to mention that English is not my mother tongue. I adore language in any form - 'foreign' languages, literature, poetry, the power of words, rhetoric and so on - both writing ('using') and reading ('consuming') it. And I often think about things. Maybe I think too much. I hope there are not too many mistakes in the texts I write. I have never passed any time in a country where the people speak English so perhaps my style is not that overwhelming; -) Forgive me: -D)

The Best Poem Of Alex P..

Encounter Of Eyes

You watch an old man, bent
Grey face, white hair
A black look from dead eyes
- Life gets into them
How dare you see to these eyes? !
‘cause the eyes are a soul’s doors.

You see the fire in these eyes,
You’ve kindled it
Memories racing through your mind:
The smell of fuel,
Wooden furniture,
A sleeping woman,
Children’s cries, you.

You see blazing flames,
Bursting windows
You’re outside, watching
Silence recovering the area.
No more cries, instead
Ashes, a heap of ruins,
A lonely man, unspeakably sad.
It was his family. Arson.

He collapsed, had no more energy
You remember it as if it was yesterday
He had no vigour, he was dead
- A living corpse.
You left, couldn’t bear it
Now you must face him, alive again.
He’s recognized you.

Eyes, like daggers fixed on you –
Passion flares up – can you stand it?
Horror! Your eyes cast down
You hate yourself.
You can’t stand it.

The old man turns around,
Walks away, no word’s spoken.
His eyes are dead again
And so are you.
You walk the other direction,
An explosion
You see red - then black.

Just a fatal accident,
One miserable victim…
Dead man’s curse.

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