Waiting for Retirement

We don't have time for a smile

We don't have time for reading

We don't have time for a coffee

We don't have time for kissing

We are waiting for a lottery and waiting

We are waiting for a horoscope and waiting

We are waiting for the gods and waiting

We are waiting for retirement and waiting

But we have time for nothing

Grumbling constantly we are grumbling

Gossiping constantly we are gossiping

Running constantly we are running

Acting constantly we are acting

We have time for it

Her Strength

Her eyes

clean lakes

don't worry

about wrinkles

Playfully

Childishly

they glitter

Her strength

about aging

doesn't care

As feathers

she lifts

heavy bags

Death wanted

to knock

on her door

but was scared

by her courage

by her strength

Very Cheap

Very cheap

I am selling wounds

the painful memories

the past fears

the enemies

Very cheap

I am selling anger

in the huge bags

I am selling neck pain

I am selling the tears

as rich as rivers

If you are fast

you will get the bonus

the rusty pots

the rotten apples

The Black Gummy Candies

There are those candies

that do not look like candies

They look like car tires

and have the same bad smell

and the same bad taste

They are like lovers

deceitful and deceptive

who really love each other

as the black gummy candies

are really the candies

Injustice

Everything is wrong

from the center

to the edges

Injustice is

no more spreading

Into every cell

of the society

it entered already

As If It Could

I drink coffee

from the hot cup

as if it could

warm the heart

I turn the music on

as if it could

turn the sorrow off

I hide in the corner

under the roof

from the people

from Earth

from Space

as if it could

remove distress

I turn on the heater

With the wool blanket

I cover my legs

as if anything could

replace your hands

The Sad Sunny Town

In the sunny town

the light is an illusion

In the human heads

rules the confusion

People are moving

slower than turtles

It seems they lost

one hundred battles

In the sunny town

the gray stone grieves

The child sitting on it

all the time weeps

The child is complaining

to the last diary

Very soon will die

the last library