Poetry from Mykyta Ryzhykh

my monsters of spring
in the rains of unbearable loneliness
are drowning

***
the mastodons of the dead tongue pull the corpse of a harsh
scream from the grave and put it in our ears
harpies of misfortune gnaw at the skin of the chitin in which we live

dead language
dead chitin
the soul is alive

***
memory envelops us as we used to be
memory envelops us with our former
which of the moments of paint will fall to us in the future
which of the moments of spring will fall to us in the future
fingers on the hands became screams
fingernails torn off
the future is gone
the future is red

***
sakura gave me silence
the flowers of the soul open
and the sky is bright

***
angels fall asleep
mafia wakes up

the sky is melting like ice cream
life melts like the sky

shots play catch up
bodies play hide and seek

one two Three
children's play adults

four five six
death flies

***
fragments of thoughts in an iron eye
finger pharynx
hiroshima is a city in japan where once people
liked to watch movies

scar of loneliness at the moment of death
cylinder-like neck
mushroom people grow into the ground
everything around merges into mush

the lesson of honesty is drowning in tears

***
pathology of meaning
air puff
an apology for hate
blood of flowers

and everywhere death death death

***
sauna burns under the sun
steam resembles a fungus of a nuclear explosion

***
fire
light
flames
live wire
devouring element

all around red

***
soul tulips
worry in heaven on earth
dead souls

***
pay per soul
my iron son bathes himself in the bath

weeping indulgence
tin soldiers turn to ashes

money bodies
life becomes a hunt for yourself
∞∞∞
silence signs
look like death

***
crunching tree branches
under your feet
autumn dreams
 
***
What did I do while nuclear plants grew like mushrooms
Probably scolded the daughter beat the cat
Dragged a piece of halva
Filled the chambers with gas
And did not notice how my daughter turned into
In the Virgin Mary
And I don't know how to deal with her now

***
Birds sing in the language
of silence that they have nowhere
to return from warm lands

***
Metal birds live longer than meat birds
I wish I didn't become a robot
I want to become a slave, but not God
I want to be a god
It's best to be a bird