Biography of Slava Olchevski
You will find bits and pieces of my biography throughout my poems. Over a hundred poems cover an unabridged history of my life and deaths. When you read my poetry, hear it with a Russian accent.
Although, I write in English, it is not my native language. It looks like I am following in the footsteps of another Russian - Joseph Brodsky.
Slava Olchevski's Works:
Slava Olchevski Poems
Monkeys Falling From The Sky
Monkeys falling from the sky Happens when they try to die Jumping from an airplane So that nothing would remain
Art Of Dying
It is scary to die for the first time On the fifth it becomes routine Strip yourself from a fleshy and bony part And release the spirit within
Get Used To Being Used
People don’t like to be used, not at all But to use others is a decent goal When you work your butt without pay You’ll get compensated, in some other way
A Dawn Of A New Day
A dawn of a new day Like moment that never pass Is function of Earth and Sun And that’s my scientific guess
The Human Society Created Monsters
The human society created monsters - invisible, but nevertheless real It is hard to imagine and understand, that people were crazy enough to deal
Highway Of Life
From the moment you are born you are totally unaware That you are driving on a highway of life, nobody knows where On a highway of life there is no sign
Let me tell you my dear friend About my invisible hand I don't claim that the hand is mine
I see white letters on a green background – A road sign! Warns me I’m very
wind that is blowing the morning mist The trees and bushes I hugged and kissed Carefree I swayed in the lights and shadows And happily rustled through the woods and meadows
Requiem For My Grandfather
A flock of birds, no, pack of vultures Descends on my still breathing corpse I'll let them have their bloody dinner The other alternative is much worse
I will not tell you what you want to hear It's better, if I will expose your fear And no amount of sugar-coated pills
Am I Obsessed With Death?
Stroking a head of a snake Feeling a tiger’s breath Am I obsessed with death? Am I obsessed with death?
Microphone robbed me of my voice Bright lights blinded my very eyes The music has left me with no choice For you I will sing, I love you guys!
Through the act of amazing Grace I quit running in a rat race Believe me, please! Don’t get me wrong
Price Of Wine
When one decides what wine to buy
There is always a better alternative
But students were poor like mice in church
From the beginning of eternity
Only a student would eagerly spend
The last five bucks of his money
To buy a bottle or two for himself
And his beloved honey