Nekotorye iz moix stixov, s kommentariyami chitatelej SCR, SCS i dr. newsgrupp
Soderzhanie:
- "Chuzhie lyudi"//"People are strange" by J. Morrison
- "Brachnoe ob'yavlenie"
- Schitalka N2 ("Samolet")
- Zhil'ty razrushennogo doma...
- Den', kak v Pitere...
- "Klinika Kinika"
- Schitalka N3 ("Ezhik")
- Yaponskij sonet dlya R.
- "70 mph"
- "Odissej-Argusu"
- Po xajveyu na zapad...
- "Maevka"
- "Tsok-tsok-tsok"
- "Ok.Zh.D."
- Devushka, litsa kotoroj ya ne vizhu...
- V tvoem domashnem telefone...
- "Mel'" (zaklinanie bol'noj golovy)
- Limeriki Ameriki
- Schitalka N1 (Esli est' na svete Bog...)
- "Tost"
- "Oda reklame"
- Skachet krasnaya lyagushka (after A.Burshteyn)
- Vot i konchilos' leto...
- Pogodi, skoro budet aprel'...
- Ya xotel by vladet' nebol'shoj gostinitsej...
- Ty potom vse pojmesh', kogda vyrastesh'...
- "Martovskij sonet"
- "Koshka" (Lenka+Lexa)
- "Pyatna"
- "Nemnogo solntsa v xolodnoj vode"
- "E-Sonnet" (in English)
- "Kollektsioner"
- "Zveri"
- "Sumi"
for all poems: copyright (c) 1996 by Alexey Andreyev
Those who want to get a book of my poetry "PESENKA SHUTA", published
by Effect Publishing Inc, New-York, 1996 --> contact me (alexey@cerc.wvu.edu)
till May 25, or Leonid Delitsyn (delitsin@geology.wisc.edu) after May 25, 1996.
-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
people are strange chuzhie lyudi
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
people are strange esli ty strannik,
when you are stranger. lyudi - chuzhie.
faces look ugly litsa protivny,
when you're alone. kogda odinok.
women seem wicked zhenschiny kazhutsya
when you're unwanted. merzkimi, zlymi.
streets are uneven esli ustal -
when you're down. lish' nerovnost' dorog
when you're strange, vidish'. i v serdtse
faces come out of the rain, nikto ne nahodit
when you're strange, imya tvoe:
noone remembers your name, net imen dlya tebya,
when you're strange, strannyi chuzhak.
when you're strange, tol'ko molcha vyhodyat
when you're strange... novye litsa iz-pod dozhdya...
Jim Morrisson, 1967 Alex Andreyev, 1994
New-York(?) Leningrad - Washington DC
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
>>
>>people are strange chuzhie lyudi
>>^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>KLEVO!
>A very old die-hard Doors fan
>- i.g.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
>i think it's a best one i've ever seen. well done.
>have u ever tried "love street"?
>Dima
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
: : *** Brachnoe ob'yavlenie ***
: : ISCHU
: : zhenschinu s avtomaticheskoi transmissiei
: : dlya sovmestnogo vypolneniya zhiznennoi missii.
: : Mozhno poderzhannuyu,
: : no v horoshei forme.
: : Tormoza i prochee dolzhno byt' v norme.
: : Luchshe - "kompakt", s krepkim fenderom;
: : tsvet - lyuboi,
: : no luchshe ne chyornyi i ne goluboi.
: : Zhelatel'no, chtoby legko zavodilas',
: : no chtoby ne prihodilos'
: : menyat' rezinu slishkom uzh chasto;
: : chtob pri dvizhenii ne izdavala naprasnih
: : shumov,
: : i byla umerenno-nezavisimoi.
: : Koroche, s avtomaticheskoi transmissiei.
: : No glavnoe - chtob byla uyutnoi:
: : pizhonstvo a la "limuzin"
: : ne predlagat'.
: : Zvonit' vecherom, 599-7891.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
: Klass!... Umeyut zhe lyudi.... Pishite, pozhalujsta, bol'she, hot'
: nogami, hot' chem.... Dejstvitel'no luchshe, interesnee i priyatnee
: chitat' lyubye stihi/rasskazy, chem vse eti beskonechnye,
: zatsiklennye "po natsional'nomu voprosu" ili kakie drugie "sam
: durak"/ "a ya... a u menya... a ya vam vse kulichiki porushu..."
: --
: I
----------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Great thanks to Ira and all folks responded on my postings via e-mail.
Ok, let's rock this dirty post-soviet dump with one more poem:
***Schitalka N2***
Samolet, samolet,
zaberi menya v polet,
mne tut kak-to ne vezet,
ya zdes' prosto idiot..
Samolet, samolet,
pust' menya v polete rvet -
zaberi menya v polet
v raskudryavyi nebosvod!
Pod krylom tvoim poet,
shelestit svoe taiga
iz zelenen'kih "tan'ga" -
vyderni menya iz not!
V toi taige - dikoi narod
molitsya na ogorod:
vyrosla l' "kapusta"?
A v polete - pusto!
Tak voz'mi menya v polet,
hot' na vysote ya trushu.
Esli chto - ya ne narushu
cheloveko-oborot...
Samolet, samolet!
chelovek, ved' on - pilot,
no vsyu zhizn' zachem-to vret...
Zaberi menya v polet!
---------------
Comments welcome.
BTW, if someone has any idea on publishing of my stuff,
you welcome, too. I've got coupla hundreds poems, many new and
unpublished among them.
--------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------
-
Spasibo!!! Ochen' verno, ochen' zdorovo i ochen'
professional'no...
: * * *
: Zhil'tsy razrushennogo doma.
: Oskolki starogo serviza.
: po chut' zametnym, no znakomym
: chertam my uznayom drug druga
: v tolpe zamorskoi, gde kak viza -
: litso, i dva chernil'nyh kruga -
: pechati glaz.
: Hotya u nas
: net s nimi raznitsy v odezhde
: i v reflektornosti ulybok,
: no chto do vzglyada: v nyom, kak prezhde,
: ne vylinyav - sherohovatost'.
: Pechal'nyi otpechatok zybok -
: obizhennost' il' vinovatost'?
: Uzh ne prochest'...
: No chto-to est'
: vo vzglyade korabel'noi krysy,
: dobravsheisya do suhoputnyh:
: meh kak u vseh, kogda on vysoh,
: no ploho vysyhaet pamyat'
: o vetre, ne vsegda poputnom,
: i ob ostavshihsya za nami
: na korable.
: My zh na zemle
: opoznaem svoih, zametiv
: na dne zrachkov, v dushevnyh norah
: tu grust', i v to zhe vremya - veter,
: blesk gordosti byvavshih v shtorme,
: oskolok belogo farfora
: s poloskoi zolota... No shtorki
: ustalyh vek
: opuscheny. I chelovek
: opyat' takoi,
: kak vse.
: I rastvoryon tolpoi.
------------------------------------------------------------------
> the verse is indeed very good
>--
>Sincerely yours,
>Leonid Delitsin
------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------
-
A great thing indeed, it does not even sound like an exercise. I am not
an expert in poetry and don't like it in general, but I liked this a lot.
(Sorry if does does not sound very impressive.)
* * * *
* Den', kak v Pitere: martovski-tusklyi.
* V knizhnom mestnye brodyat "hillbilli",
* i odna tol'ko knizhka na russkom -
* Voznesenskogo "Nostal'giya..."
* Vot tebe primep menestrelya,
* chto izvesen i negram, i turkam.
* Nu a pozy-to! Kak u modeli
* dlya reklamy kletchatyh kurtok!
* Sartr, Kennedi... vse pogolovno
* vlezli snyat'sya s velikim poetom,
* kto sebya po-mazhorski skromno
* zval "nositelem Bozh'ego sveta"...
* I smeyas', ty glyadish' na stranitsu
* s primitivneishim palindromom:
* vot takie vot nebylitsy,
* a tirazh - dazhe v Shtatah - ogromnyi!
* Vprochem, chto udivlyat'sya: vsegda zhe
* nahodilis' na svete pizhony,
* chto krichali vsyakuyu lazhu,
* vylezaya na stadiony.
* No drugogo-to nety, odnako,
* v knizhnoi lavke sei derevenskoi...
* "Na bezryb'e i sam stanesh' rakom" -
* vyn' pyat' baksov.
* Soidet Voznesenskii.
* ----------------------------------------------------------
* Comments welcome, :-)
* o
* <^> Alexey
* |\ alexey@cerc.wvu.edu
--
- Igor. SCS&R Yellow Pages: http://www.galstar.com/~ichudov/index.html
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ <-- Changed!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
: o how does one tell a poet from a graphomaniac? (Is there
: o a way at all?)
: In the mediocre range, it is easy. I'm sure that our author is a
: mediocre poet, rather than a mediocre graphomaniac.
.......................................................................
: A genius graphomaniac, probably, is indistinguishable
: from a genius poet.
:
: - M
I bet you've never met genii, unfortunate Dima :-( The distinctive feature
of genius-poet is what I call "creative laziness". Otherwise, how can you
get so short poems that evoke so deep feelings? Think of it. Below is a
poem which is to make your brooding funnier.
------------------
"..kogda b vy znali, iz kakogo sora
rastut stihi, ne vedaya styda"
A.Akhmatova
Klinika kinika
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
(soneta dlya unitaza s orkestrom)
Rozhden'e stihov podobno zaporu:
kostnoyazychie vyazhet i krepit.
Komu nepriyatna siya metafora,
togo tvoren'ya - lish' detskii lepet!
A kto, napryagaya voobrazhen'e,
muchil zadnitsu golovy,
tot znaet tyazhest' legkih skol'zhenii
mysl'yu po drevu: ot slovo-listvy
k glavnym kornyam, i opyat' naruzhu:
net, ne vyhodit poema-uzhin!
Sintez s'edennyh vpechatlenii
truden! No davish', kak negr, dez leni...
Vot ono, Slovo spasitel'noe,
kak sil'noe...oh!... slabitel'noe!
1993, Staryi Petergoff
----------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
***Schitalka N3***
Vyshel Ezhik iz tumana,
vynul NOZHIK iz karmana.
Mozhet, on menya pyrnet?!
Net, chego-to dostaet...
Vynul zheltyi apel'sin,
chistit... Slopaet odin?
Net, menya ne upustil,
paroi dolek ugostil,
spryatal NOZHICHEK v karman
i opyat' ushel v tuman.
Ya svoe szheval skorei:
stalo zhit' esche strashnei!
Ved' tusuyutsya v tumane...
Ezhiki...s NOZHOM v karmane!!!
(from "Klinika kinika", 1993-1994)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Just from "Boston Beanery", drunk enough to post some stuff :)
Ya voobsche-to davno ponyal, chto v etih gruppah v osnovom publikuyutsya
"znatoki" mirovoi politiki i prochih "evreiskih voprosov"; posemu
vryad li mnogie tut v kurse, chto takoe "haiku" i pochemu sonet "yaponskii".
Tem ne menee ya nadeyus', chto eta para shtuk komu-nibud' ponravitsya.
Osoblivo esli ih perepisat' normal'nymi russkimi bukvami, chego mne delat'
len'. :)
See ya around,
o
<^> L e x a
|\ alexey@cerc.wvu.edu
Yaponskii sonet dlya R.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Kogda u menya budut den'gi,
ya podaryu tebe spanielya
s ushami kak dve stel'ki.
Kogda u menya budut den'gi
i vremya - hotya by nedelya,
my vmeste ukatim v Nikitu
ili v drugoe mesto
ochen' prostogo byta
i tihigo "tili-testa".
Tvoi pes povzdorit s volnami,
on budet boyat'sya trapa
i begat' smesho za nami...
Kogda u menya budut den'gi.
No eto ved' vryad li, lapa.
1993,
Leningrad - Petergoff
-
* * *
Sem'desyat mil' v chas:
kapli polzut vverh
po vetrovomu steklu.
Uvidav v pervyi raz,
ty, otritsatel' vseh ver,
sluzhaschii lish' teplu,
vse-zh udivish'sya slegka;
posle poimesh' zakon -
skorost', vozdushnyi potok...
No s prostotoi duraka
budesh' sledit' ih gon,
slovno ucha urok
v etom dozhdlivom "seichas".
I kak konspekt tvoih veh -
"haiku" v stranichnom uglu:
"Sem'desyat mil' v chas:
kapli polzut vverh
po vetrovomu steklu."
1995,
Atlanta, GA - Morgantown, WV
------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Dazhe napisannaia nenormal'nymi bukvami, mne eta "para shtuk" nravitsia.
>Nel'zia li eshe?...
>MP
------------------------------------------------------------------------
>...........................................................
>Ono konechno, v jevrejskom voprose ja profi, no mne ochen' ponravilos'
>Pravda, k haiku eto imejet ves'ma oposredovannoje otnoshenije, no eto
>prosto zdorovo. Poet ty, lexa.
>BW
-------------------------------------------------=----------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Time for my last post in this half of the summer, probably: I'm going to Piter
for vacation, and I won't disturb you till the middle of July at least.
So here goes my "Ulyssess"; devoted to my dog Argus who actually died a year
ago :-( ; with a node of appreciation to J.Joyce who actually sucks :-)
Comments welcome till Thursday night or in July.
"Nyne zh, zabytyi (hozyain ego byl daleko), on, bednyi
Argus, lezhal u vorot..."
Gomer, "Odisseya"
Odissei - Argusu
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Vse sluchaetsya, kak sluchaetsya:
kto-to vlez, kogda sporili baby.
Ved' izvesno, chem eto konchaetsya...
Tol'ko Zevs i ego proraby
(bol'zhe - tot, morya pachkatel' drevnii)
vdrug svalili vse bedy na ryzhego:
deskat', "mir v Olimpiiskoi Derevne
ty slomal, hitroumnyi vyzhiga!"
I boltayus' teper', izmuchennyi
electrichkami da tramvayami,
po moryam chelovecheskih sluchaev,
sam sebe, kak ty, podvyvaya.
Zhizn' - skitan'e; vozmozhno, naprasnoe.
Tayut dni, vpechatleniya, groshi...
Ah, Elena moya Prekrasnaya!
Ah, Troyanskaya moya loshad'!
Kak medovo poyut sireny!
Kak tupy byvayut tsiklopy!
Stol'ko vsyakogo v etoi Vselennoi,
chto toshnit i bez teleskopa...
Dom! Domoi! Ya ustal, kak ogarok
ot svechi. Baby, babki i lavry -
prah! Tebe pritaranyu v podarok
kost' kakogo-nibud' Minotavra,
chto pugal narodnye massy.
A potom ego s'eli sobaki.
Ya tebe rasskazhu ih grimassy,
kogda ya doberus' do Itaki.
I k tomu, kak Dante nadmennyi
v Ad menya propishet k obmanschikam -
my uzhe tozhe budem tlenom,
nam li budet do balaganschiny?
Tak chto zhdi menya, pes! V schast'e, v strahah li -
pomni zhizni i chestnosti tainu.
Da kusai Penelopinyh hahalei.
No ne nasmert'. Ostav' hozyainu.
"Mertvyi sezon",
1994,
Petergoff - Leningrad - Magnitogorsk
----------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
ride The Snake...
to The Lake...
J.Morrisson
Po haiveyu na zapad.
Po priyomniku - Zappa.
Novyi zvuk, novyi zapah.
Ne skuchai, moya lapa!
Ne zavisim, ne zapert.
Po spidometru - za pyat'.
Vsled za solntsem, i za pol-
den', i dal'she, na zapad,
po betonnomu zmeyu,
vdol' kryla-vodostoka,
ot vsego, chto imeyu,
ot sebya, ot vostoka,
ot nyryan'ya v glaza pod
tvoei chyolkoyu, lapa -
po haiveyu na zapad,
po haiveyu na zapad.
July 10, 1994
Washington DC - Morgantown WV
---------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------
-
*** Maevka ***
(vid s vaxty 22-oj obschagi 1-go Maya 1991 g.)
Pervomaj, Pervomaj!
Kto ne vesel, tot ne p'yan!
Nado mnoyu proletayut
proletarii vsex stran!
V chudnyj gorod Tegeran,
solidarnosti polny,
vse letyat ob'edinyat'sya,
zastegnuv svoi shtany,
chtoby ne bylo vojny!
A sredi kirpichnyx sten
ya sizhu, kak pen', na vaxte -
tuneyadets i lyumpen.
Po strane - polnejshij kren,
i shaxter bastuet zloj...
Ya zhe - v rot pixayu lomti
kolbasy netrudovoj!!!
Za chervonets svoj rodnoj
ya xranyu pokoj obschagi:
spite, bratsy-tuneyadtsy!
Ne projdut plakaty, flagi,
zhazhda krikov i bumagi
cherez spyaschij v solntse dom!
Krepko chajnik nash zavaren,
polny pachki tabakom,
i o chem-to dorogom
v stae s neba proletarij
v unison moej gitare
mne
maxaet
sapogom...
1991, Temyashkino
(Leningrad State University)
------------------------------------------------------------------
>Net, nu eto prosto prazdnik kakoj-to (i dazhe yasno kakoj)...
>Klass! Osobenno proletayuschie proletarii...(da i vse ostal'noe)
>Spasibo.
>--
>I
------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
Pustaya platforma. Bresh' v raspisanii electrichek.
Tsok. Tsok. Tsok.
Strelki ostanovivshixsya nog.
- U Vas net spichek?
- Net. U menya zazhigalka.
- Kakaya raznitsa.
- V obshem-to - da.
Schelk...
Kak ikona: litso, ogonek,
i szadi - temnya glyba neba...
- Spasibo.
Tsok. Tsok. Tsok.
Koshachij glaz sigarety,
val'siruyuschij proch'.
Znaete, kakoj samyj belyj tanets?
Eto -
Belaya Noch'.
Alex Andreyev
L-d, July 1995,
------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Stikh mne ponravilsya dazhe bez togo, chto ya by izmenil, POZDRAVLYAYU.
>A.Danilkovich
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
: Ok.Zh.d.
: ^^^^^^^^
:
: V zvuke slova "kofemolka"
: chto-to est' ot katafalka,
: a v prostyx akkordax folka -
: chto-to ot stolovskoj vilki.
: Takzhe i v kolesnom stuke,
: v ix "tut-dom" na kazhdom styke
: est' osobennye toki,
: neizvestnye nauke.
: Kak pokupka pulemeta
: vmig na vse daet otvety -
: tak vagonnye chastoty
: chinyat i latayut laty
: nashix nervnyx ammunitsij,
: trebuyuschix kontributsij.
: I bez vsyakix azhitatsij
: edesh' - sam sede Konfutsij,
: Sam sebe - Platon i Sartp.
: V polminuty - kilometr.
: Magiya chugunnyx mantr
: chische bul'kanya pol-litr!
: Vam slilis' zima i leto?
: Vy rasstroeny, razbity?
: Ne sidite v kabinetax,
: v toshnotvornyx samoletax!
: Zhizni srok ne tak uzh kratok -
: otorvite paru sutok
: i nastrojte vashi noty
: pod vagonnye chastoty.
: Alexey V. Andreyev
: Leningrad - Chelyabinsk, 1994
>hmmmm.... kakaya-to udivitel'naya drebeden' so mnoj proishodit....
>znaesh', Leha, vot chitayu tebya "kak kritika", kak "flamera", kak
>"ryadovogo postera"... whatever... i bol'shej chast'ju ne soglasna,
>mnogoe razdrazhaet... nu, vozmozhno, yasno....
>a potom pochitaesh' kakie-to tvoi stihi (ne vse, pravda, imeyut
>takoj effekt, no nekotorye imeyut) i.... i ya ne znayu, kakovy uzh
>oni tam s pozitsii "pravil'noj" kritiki.... no ved' "zadevaet"....
>kakim-to zvuko-slovo-sochetaniem....
>i kak-to mgnovenno zabyvaetsya, vse, chto dumalos' do togo....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
Devuska,
litsa kotoroj ya ve vizhu -
tak sidi i rta ne raskryvaj!
Molcha otvernuvshis', ty milej i blizhe,
vodopad volos s plecha stekaet nizhe...
Ostal'noe dorisuyu sam, ty ne meshaj,
ne gubi, ne obizhaj vkus moj
glupost'yu svoej i kriviznoj!
1991, Leningrad
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
: * * *
: V tvoem domashnem telefone
: byli schastlivye semerki,
: tselyx chetyre iz semi.
:
: I on obychno otzyvalsya
: smeshnym "alle!" i zvonkim smexom,
: mne soobschavshim: "Vot opyat'
: ty menya vytaschil iz dusha!"
: Potom rasskazyvalsya novyj
: son, ili zhiznennyj moment.
: Teper' tvoj telefon smenilsya:
: v nem net semerok, lish' chetverki,
: tri iz semi. I na vopros
: domoxozyajka otvechaet skuchno,
: chto budesh' pozzhe, chto ushla
: esche vchera. "Chto peredat'?..."
: Ne govorit' zhe staroj dure
: pro son. i pro "alle" smeshnoe!
: "Nu... v obschem, peredajte ej,
:
: chto skoro priletaet v gorod
: odin... spetsialist po dusham,
: kto sam techet. Ona pojmet."
: May 1995
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chto zhe kasaetsya vsyakix "xrustyasschix" zvukov russkogo - ix kolichestvo
v stixe mozhno pri zhelanii sokratit'. U Xlebnikova byli interesnye
experimenty. K sozhaleniyu, u menya net sejchas xoroshix primerov pod rukoj,
tak chto chto-nibud' staroe iz svoej sobstvennoj golovy:
*Mel'*
(zaklinanie bol'noj golovy)
mel'che menya malo
milogo mira mimo
mili limita mela
moli mutnoj meteli
lomy moi lampy
lamy lyumpeny lesa
molcha molili mama
mlet' moloka lomtem
lotos luny myamlil
mozgi murlykali Lema
limfa morya molola
mola mrachnoe mylo
muxi molva moxa
lapy mosta mokli
lipkie lyamki leni
mul'tfil'my morenyx myslej
malo.
Alexey Andreyev,
1991, Leningrad
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
And here are some limericks from my "LIMERIKI AMERIKI":
Zhil starik v Washingtone DC,
on iz vrednosti ne kosil
vokrug doma travu,
i za eto emu
dali klichku "zloj pank iz DC".
* * *
Bez mashiny ne vyzhivesh' v SShA!
Odna mat' rodila malysha:
on uzhe byl odet
v rozovyj "Chevrolet".
Skoro vsex tak rozhat' budut v SShA.
* * *
Zhil pod Kievom antisemit.
Priletaet on v Pittsburgh, gremit
on v taksi: "Ej, klakson!
Nu-ka, v russkij rajon!"
Pod'ezzhaet i slyshit... ivrit!
* * *
Est' v Kolumbii grad Bogota.
tam vse devushki - prosto mechta!
Tam rastyat marixuanu,
plyashut pod barabany,
i ne znayut pro nas ni cherta!
* * *
Zhil-da-byl neuravnoveshennyj.
On byval to smeshnoj, to smeshannyj.
No bez okon, s kovrom
ego ofis byl. V nem
on besilsya, nikem ne pomeshannyj.
* * *
Esli Vasha "toyota", kak ptitsa,
iz Virginii v Georgiyu mchitsya,
nablyudajte tajkom
ochen' xitryj zakon:
chische nebo - chernee litsa.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
>I liked a limerick about "toyota" kak
>ptitsa" very much!
>--
> Яков Топорков.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Schitalka N1
^^^^^^^^^^^^
Esli est' na svete Bog -
On, naverno, zanemog,
i lezhit s temperaturoj,
kovyryaetsya v nosu.
Esli est' na svete Schast'e,
to Ono sejchas nenast'e
kroet matom nekul'turnym,
poteryav sebya v lesu.
Esli est' Lyubov' na svete,
to Ona - v fonarnom svete
u podnozh'ya "Inturista"
s sigaretoyu v zubax...
Da k chemu nam skazki eti?
My xoxochem, slovno deti!
Nado zhit' svetlo i bystro,
nu a vyspimsya - v grobax!
1990
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
>O vot eto horoshij stih. Takie stihi ja lublu
>Pomen'she pompy i samokopanija, pobol'she samoironii -
>i do shedevra nedaleko.
>Eugene *fraer*
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Tost
^^^^
Odna i ta zhe zhenschina vredna v bol'shix kolichestvax,
noski odni i te zhe nel'zya nosit' ves' god.
Da zdravstvuet vse novoe, xoroshee i raznoe,
vse smeloe i svezhee, zovuschee vpered!
Ura - raznoobraziyu v ede i razvlecheniyax,
v iskusstve i religii, v nauke i v bytu!
Pust' umiraet seroe! Pust' budet zhizn' ulybkoyu
i Bogu Mnogolikomu, i glupomu mentu!
Chem tixo tlet' po komnatam, davajte zhadno vspyxivat',
lomat' i stroit' zanovo i xramy, i stanki!
Ya slavlyu vsex deruschixsya s vcherashnim i obydennym,
YA P'YU ZA NEBEZDEJSTVIE IZVILIN I RUKI!!!
1992
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
--Oda Reklame--
Davno ya ne greshil stixami -
vse shlyalsya (v grezax) po Parizhu.
No speech moj budet o Reklame:
oh, kak ee ya nenavizhu!
My zhili ploxo i neverno;
star'e peremololi gody,
i nynche v vyrazhen'yax skvernyx
orem o tom, chto my - urody.
I vyrosli drugie roli
na etoj pochve mazoxizma:
"Kto platit - tot i rock-n-rollit!" -
takov zakon, prostoj, kak klizma.
Teper' zatraxannye lyudi
glyadyat zatraxanno v ekrany -
tam chudesa lezhat na blyude...
tam pivo vkusnoe iz kranov...
i seksapil'nye umory,
shirinki rtov v ulybkax shirya,
tam reklamiruyut "pribory",
prizhav k "priboram" byusty-giri...
Gazet ya vovse ne chitayu -
dieta a la Sasha Chernyj,
no telek izredka vklyuchaya,
ya chuyu shag ee provornyj:
plakatno-flagovomu lesu
gryadet dostojnaya zamena -
rastet neonovaya plesen',
tupeyut shutki KVNa...
Il' prosto ya takoj zadetyj?
A nado - "smile" nadet' na rozhu,
zalest' v obertku ot konfety,
da zaprodat'sya podorozhe,
i ej otdat'sya, Koroleve
tsivilizovannyx narodov,
tolkachke i zerna, i plevel,
i ventilyatornyx zavodov?
Chto ej zaprety, ramki, dveri -
sestre grosha, neveste stressa?
I vot uzhe treschit moj cherep
pod kablukom ee progressa.
Chto chelovek, a chto - botinki:
vse prodaetsya, vse "na pruxe".
I lish' "Veselye Kartinki"
menya spasayut ot "krezuxi"...
Komu-to krik moj ne po vkusu? -
vsex udovol'stvij vam, poka
ne pogrebet vas pestryj musor
na dne rodimogo Sovka.
Alexey Andreyev
1991, Leningrad
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Fel'etonist...
> -mi
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Kriticheskaja myslJA:
>IMHO is Alexeja-1991 Sasha Chernyj na porjadok luchshe chem Alexandr Blok
>is Alexeja-1995.
>DISCLAIMER: Written above expresses opinion of the fraer only,
>and even other fraers would not agree with this.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Alexander Burshteyn (aburshte@mail1.sas.upenn.edu) wrote:
: Belyy voron kruzhit v nebe,
: Vse letaet nado mnoy,
: I ponuro chernyy lebed'
: Proplyvaet storonoy.
...Skachet krasnaya lyagushka,
zheltyj zayats proskakal.
Ej, starushka! Gde zhe kruzhka?!
Vot i konchilsya nash bal!
Ceryj samolet "Balkana"
proplyvaet storonoj:
sadanu v nego s nagana,
i esche, mat', po odnoj!
Mimoletna v rechke prosin' -
kto-to s golubym litsom
proplyvaet k yugu: osen'!
Leto konchilos'! S kontsom!
Fioletovye lyudi
diko plyashut i poyut:
"Vse! Abzats! Vesny ne budet!
Vot takoj vot neuyut!"
Kraski vse vokrug smeshalis':
vorobej - kak apel'sin...
Mat', vylazij-ka iz shali!
Nalivaj esche odin!
Vot i chernyj sneg sletaet...
Lya, da eto zh my gorim!
Officer! Nu... tak, byvaet...
Za tsenoj ne postoim!
Policeman, ty, chto, ne russkij?!
Ty ne chuesh' - la sentyabr'?!
Da uspeesh' ty v kutuzku!
Nu prisyad', glotni xotya b!
Chto, glotnul? Idem naruzhu!
Vidish' - beloe "cuckoo"
v polosatom nebe kruzhit?
Eto - "OSEN'"! Tam, vverxu!
"Yeah"?! On - nash, ya govoryu zhe!!!
Dolivajte muzhiku!
Alexey Andreyev,
Sept 25, 18:56 - 19:04
(pod vpechatleniem ot raznotsvetnyx
ptits Burshteyna; esche ne sovsem otoshel...
pojdu golovu pod kran sunu)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
Vot i konchilos' leto.
Snova nebo zaplakalo.
Lepestki ventilyatora,
chto skuchal na okne,
shevel'nulis';
i vdrug zakrutilis' sil'nej.
Vot i konchilos' leto.
Dumal - vse esche leto?
Glyan': lesov svetoforami
vremya tochno razmecheno.
Ne speshi zhe, sledya
za dorogoj;
no vslushajsya v schetchik dozhdya.
Slyshish? - konchilos' leto.
Sept 18, WV
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
>>lesov svetoforami
>...
>>vslushajsya v schetchik dozhdya.
>>Slyshish? - konchilos' leto.
>>
>Ca va. :) Pavlik
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Sidel, vychityval nabor svoej knizhki "Pesenka shuta", kotoraya dolzhna vyjti
v dekabre. Vot, vychital ottuda stix. A komu interesna vsya knizhka - kin'te
mne vash e-mail address, ya dam vam znat', kak vyjdet.
* * *
"Pogodi, skoro budet aprel',-
govorit tebe malen'kij gorod. -
On nal'et tebe livnya za vorot,
ostanovit rukoj karusel',
na kotoroj v tvoej golove
zakruzhilsya neschastnyj rebenok,
chto ne rvalsya na attraktsiony,
a skuchal po moryam i trave.
Ne speshi, ne goni loshadej!"
Gorod malen'kij - chische molitvy:
v nem odni bezopasnye britvy,
i doma nizhe trex etazhej.
I v nochnyx ego ulitsax grez
tak priyatno-legko poteryat'sya...
Ty zabudesh', ty budesh' smeyat'sya,
nablyudaya, kak malen'kij pes
lixo vyskochit iz tishiny,
chtob oblayat' tebya bez prichiny.
I spasaya svoi bryuchiny,
ty pojmesh', chto tebe ne nuzhny
ni vysokie kryshi, ni britvy,
ni proklyataya ta karusel'
v etom gorode chische molitvy.
Vot togda i nastupit aprel'.
March 18, 1995, WV
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
: Ya xotel by zhit', Fortunatus, v gorode, gde reka
: vysovyvalas' by iz-pod mosta, kak iz rukava - ruka...
:
: J.Brodsky
:
:
:
: Ya xotel by vladet' nebol'shoj gostinitsej s restoranom.
: Povara - kitaets i grek - i para ispanoyazychnyx ofitsiantok
: xoxotali by vslast', kogda, zakatav rukava i shtany,
: ya spuskalsya by k nim
: i sam sebe pek bliny.
: Eto bylo by poberezh'e s umerennym klimatom, ili dazhe
: ostrov; ne to chtob kurort, no dlya lyubitelej "dikix" plyazhej -
: molodyx esche par, na nedel'ku ostavivshix zhen, muzhej
: i ves' Staro-Novyj Svet.
: Inogda s det'mi -
: ot trex do semi let.
: Zaezzhie neznakomki stroili by mne glazki, no vse naprasno:
: starshaya iz kolumbiek-ofitsiantok byla by neprevosxodimo prekrasna.
: Mladshaya, vprochem, tozhe. I ne sluchalos' by dnya,
: chtob sestry ne podralis',
: buduchi vlyubleny v menya.
: Glavar' mestnoj mafii ne uvazhal by moego pristrast'ya k pastelyam,
: no v razborkax byl by vsegda na moej storone - ved' tol'ko v moem otele,
: zaxodya propustit' so mnoj ryumochku,
: zloj genij chuvstvoval by sebya kak doma,
: obsuzhdaya "Poryadok iz Xaosa"
: i "Iskusstvo Lyubvi" Fromma.
: Inogda, posredi zimy, stanovilos' by skuchno -
: ya b prosil u bandita kakoj-nibud' samolet, i s odnim iz ego spodruchnyx
: uletal by, i naveschal druzej v novogodnix stolitsax mira,
: zaodno zakupayas' shprotami,
: raznym vinom, i syrom.
: A vernuvshis', v teni u morya (i vovse ne zalezaya na gory)
: ya pisal by ne skovannye rifmoj stixi na odnom iz tex yazykov, v kotoryx
: Neosuschestvimoe Buduschee, v Nastoyaschem Buduschem sebya ne nashedshee,
: zvuchit legko i chut' grustno -
: pochti kak Proshedshee.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Alexey V. Andreyev wrote:
>
> * * *
>
>
> Ty potom vse pojmesh', kogda vyrastesh'.
> Pobyvaet v glazax bol'she syrosti,
> pautinok-morschinok ot smexa -
> v ix uglax. Ty najdesh', gde prorexa,
> ne sejchas; no potom, kogda vyrastesh'
> i na xolm po asfal'tu vyrulish',
> glyanesh' vniz, i razlozhish' po polkam
> bueraki staryx proselkov;
> i kamnyami, kotorye dolgo
> sobiralis' - ty vse eto vymostish'.
> Tak ne sprashivaj, sdelaj milost'. Ty zh
> znaesh': est' - to, chto slovom ne vyrazish'.
> No bez slov pojmesh'. Kogda vyrastesh'.
>
>
> May 3, WV
Ty pojmesh', ne segodnya navernoe,
Ty projdesh' ochischen'ye ot skverny,
Vyzhigan'e kalenym zhelezom
I polet s otritsatel'nym vesom.
Sem' krugov nevozmozhnoj spirali,
Bol' i styd, vynosimyj edva li,
Nebo v krapinku yasnym utrom,
I na tumbochke tom Kamasutry
Ispeschrenyj pometkami "sdelal",
Prostyn', formu kakogo-to tela
Sohranivshuyu, verish' - ne verish'.
Zavtra utrom, kogda protrezveesh'.
>-----
>(Tut ne bez pizhonstva mozhno dobavit' -
>Pechataetsya po izdaniyu:
>Alexey Andreev, PESENKA SHUTA. Stikhotvorenija. Effect Publishing Inc.,
>New York, 1996. ISBN:0-911971-33-5. Paperback, 87 pages, cover design by
>the author)
A na bumage i vpravdu gorazdo luchshe vyglyadit...
Privet,
--
Kostin
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Martovskij sonet
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
V zazerkal'e benzinovyx radug
tonet glupo-veseloe solntse.
Prostupayut musor i padal',
kak sozvezdiya na chervontse
chto vchera byl otdan za kofe.
A segodnya - zima v razreze.
Pod ee obvetshalyj profil'
stol'ko chushi v golovu lezet -
veter! Sneg, umiraya, buxnet.
My s toboyu sidim na kuxne
i gadaem pod treli kapeli:
zaleteli - ne zaleteli?
1992, Petergoff
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Privet! ty znaesh' I really like it...
> Helen
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
I tut poyavlyayus' YA - VES' V BELOM!!!. Enjoy :)
Lenka - Lexe
^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Zhit' na vershine goloj,
pisat' prostye sonety,
i brat' u lyudej iz dola
xleb, vino i kotlety.
... i chtoby esche byl nekto,
kto xodil by za xlebom -
emu by ya tozhe pozvolil
zhit' pod moim nebom.
S nim podelil by chestno
xleb, vino i kotlety:
dolzhen zhe kto-to slushat'
moi prostye sonety!"
Lexa - Lenke
^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Privet, moya milaya Koshka,
gulyayuschaya sama po sebe,
gulyavshaya kogda-to po mne
myagkoj svoej ladoshkoj.
Ya, tvoj Kot v Sapogax,
teper' u chertej ne rogax -
chertyam nastavlyayut rozhki
ixnie chernye koshki.
Sred' nix, poedayuschix "Wiskas",
ya kisnu ot skukoty -
netu, netu belen'koj kiski,
veseloj i umnoj, kak ty,
kotoraya brodit sama po sebe
v dalekom gorode na Neve,
a nagulyavshis' - dymit sigaretoj,
chitaet moi prostye sonety,
a takzhe knizhku "Igraem blyuz",
i chto-to motaet sebe na us.
Ya tozhe motayu chego-to,
no tut esche est' rabota -
perexitrit' Lyudoeda.
Vot perexitryu - i uedu.
Ne vechno zhe s vetrom v mozgax
v gerojskix skakat' Sapogax!
I ya prikachu nazad,
v kamennyj Lenin Grad,
gde samaya milaya Koshka
gulyaet sama po sebe,
gde budet gulyat' po mne
ta laskovaya ladoshka."
---------------------------------------------
Copyright 1995 Elena Silina & Alexey Andreyev
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
Vecher shtatovskoj psevdo-schastlivoj rutiny.
Za oknom kafe shelestyat mashiny.
Sam sebe napevaya ariyu Magdaliny,
ty "imeesh' svoj kofe".
Dumaesh' o muravejnikax, o lavinax v pesochnyx kuchax,
o pravil'nom ponimanii slova "sluchaj",
i o tom, kak slozhno razgonyat' tuchi,
kogda ix malo.
I - ne dumaesh': o samoubijstvax i ix prichinax,
o trexstax milyax mezhdu zhenschinoj i muzhchinoj,
i o neobxodimosti zhit' pod takoj-to lichinoj
ne dumaesh' absolyutno.
Za sosednim stolom rzhet kakaya-to kitayanka...
Iz kolonok l'etsya dzhazovaya perebranka...
Chto, ne v kaif? - vyn' svoj player, gde plachet Yanka.
Eto - zhizn' v svobodnoj strane.
I lish' vyjdya na ulitsu, gde xolodno i nepriyatno,
lovish' obraz: proshloe, kuda ne vernesh'sya obratno,
kak bel'e pered stirkoj - vezde kakie-to pyatna.
I chernichnye sredi nix.
Alexey Andreyev
1995, M'town WV;
published in "Pesenka Shuta",
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Alexey, I ... like it
>Andrei
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>A zato vot predyduschee stihotvorenie Alekseya (pro chernichnye pjatna
>na proshlom) mne dazhe kak by i ponravilos'.
>Sincerely, etc.,
>Mr. Hyde, Esq.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
Nemnogo solntsa v xolodnoj vode
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Kogda ya prochtu tebe vse stixi,
i seryx dnej chereda
zasushit podarkov moix lepestki -
chto ty skazhesh' togda?
Kogda tixij sprut moej toski
dotyanetsya v tvoj telefon,
i ty zaplachesh', szhimaya viski,
ne znaya, gde ya, a gde on
v prostranstve gluxix provodov, v mestax,
gde netu istin prostyx,
i net okeana... Kogda ya tam -
chto budesh' delat' ty?
Povtorish' zlye slova drugix?
smolchish'? propoesh' "erunda"?
Zamerznut kryl'ya ulybok moix -
chto ty skazhesh' togda?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
> Udarenie nepravil'noe (povtOrish'), rifma banal'naya (moikh/drugikh),
> sintaksis neuklyuzhij (slova drugikh),
>
> - M
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pretenzii ne po delu. Mozhet byt' i udarenie ne tam,
i rifma tak sebe, a stixi xoroshie. I ne v samovljublennosti delo:
poet mozhet sebe pozvolit' byt' samovljublennym, esli est' vo chto,
tak skazat', vljubljat'sja. Delo v drugom.
Andreevu svojstvenno nesovershenstvo stixotvornoj
formy. Vidimo, net u nego kakogo-to chuvstva ritma i garmonii,
kotoroe objazatel'no, chtoby pisat' xoroshie stixi. Naprimer,
pishet stixotvorenie iz 16 strok i... nazyvaet ego "sonet".
Vpechatlenie gruboj raboty, nebrezhnosti.
I esche emu svojstvenna banal'nost' tematiki. Ja u Andreeva ljublju
nekotorye veschi, v kotoryx est' original'nye idei i obrazy: "Ochist'te kuricu
ot cheshui, /Obrezh'te schupal'ca i ushi..." V osnovnom, konechno,
ix net.
Poetomu reakcija na Andreeva u menja takaja: "Nu, sobstvenno, i
chto?.."
- Smirnov
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
> >
> > Andreevu svojstvenno nesovershenstvo stixotvornoj
> >formy.
>
> V korne neverno
> Kostin
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
:Lexa, pust' drugie tebq ne ponimaut -- ne beri v golovu.
:panikovsky
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
E-Sonnet
^^^^^^^^
I'm your e-male, and you're my e-female.
You're almost nothing: one hardly exists
when I don't see her. Ordinary mail
is rather slow, but it can, at least,
bring me that funny mushroom of your 'R'
and your dry tears. As to telephone,
we both don't like it: there's something wrong
in senseless 'how are you?' when you're so far
from any 'how'. Thus, needless to say
that I can find no reason and no way
to prove someone's existence with these sets
of tidy lines I got from LazerJets.
But I still keep my ticket, so next spring
you may become a lovely human being.
AA-94
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
> Vot eto ja ljublju. Ochen' xoroshee stixotvorenie.
- Smirnov
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
* * *
Malen'kim mal'chikom ya sobiral
kameshki i rakushki
po beregam tex morej, k kotorym
predki vozili menya.
V shkole ya byl kollektsionerom
marok i deneg starinnyx -
etix miniatyurnyx privetov
raznyx vekov i stran.
Moj obschezhitskij shkaf byl okleen
smytymi s soten butylok
markami vodok, vin i portvejnov,
i ulybkami piv.
Pozzhe, sred' stranstvij - kollektsiya fenek,
pamyat' o ch'ix-to zhenax:
mednyj braslet-kolokol'chik, kartonnyj
kloun, steklyannyj slon.
Nyne zhe ya sobirayu spichki,
vsyudu kradu korobochek -
s fabriki "Solntse", iz barov New Yorka,
i iz muzeya Dali.
Vot soberu dva meshka, i sozhgu ix.
Chto sobirat' posle?
Ne znayu poka... Mozhet byt', pulemety.
Ili usatyx zhukov.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
In article , alexey@cerc.wvu.edu says...
>
>
> * * *
>
> Zveri, vozmozhno, plachut.
> No tochno - ne ulybayutsya.
> Oni letayut i skachut,
> i inogda rugayutsya,
>
> stroyat krepkie gnezda,
> noch'yu s lunoj layutsya,
> slushayut mokrye zvezdy,
> no tol'ko - ne ulybayutsya.
>
> Gibnut i snova rozhdayutsya.
> Ili moxnato dremlyut.
> I vovse ne ulybayutsya,
> uzorya sledami zemlyu.
>
>
>
> Alexey Andreyev
> 1992, Leningrad
>
a mne ponravilos'....
MetalL.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-
SUMI-E
^^^^^^
to Fran,
with thanks for "Meditation in Ink"
Esli zlish'sya - risuj bambuk,
Esli schastliv - risuj irisy.
Nichego, krome tushi i dvux
myagkix kistochek, zdes' ne nuzhno.
Rastiraj ee, nablyudaj
za syuzhetami-ruchejkami:
mech krivoj, nezhnyj shelk... Vsyo - voda,
vsyo stekaet v chernuyu lunku...
A potom, ves' mir rastvoriv,
podnimi glaza ot suzuri,
i vnimatel'no posmotri,
chto ostalos', chtob lech' na bumagu.
Budet den' - ot bessil'ya v boyu
vzvoesh', padaya - i uvidish':
probivayut asfal't i vstayut
za spinoj zelenye kop'ya.
A kogda rannim utrom ruka
toj, chto spit na pleche tvoem, tixo
shevel'netsya - smotri! - tri tsvetka
na okne, kak obryvki neba...
Tak chto ne toropis', moj drug.
Rastiraj svoyu tush', a posle,
esli zlish'sya - risuj bambuk,
esli schastliv - risuj irisy.
o
<^>
|\
27-31 marta 1996, WV
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------