Poetry from Mykyta Ryzhykh

dash of language
The rabbit given to Alice on her 18th birthday
Gnaws the church candle

the heaven of the taste of hate steorite
dead sun wrinkle colors
the hunger of nailed hands
candied birds overhead trees
toy soldiers in front of the black abyss
hatred will rise into the air and 
burst so that everything around turns red
for all these years of life
сhildren and adults died 
with special cruelty 
inside us

breathe out and don't breathe in
I love you so much that the flower withers in the sun

let my head be cut off by the train at full speed
and the wind will bring my breath to you

now breathe
calmly measured

who made you up?
who made you?

what is the Lord silent about with the rustle of leaves?
the crunch of leaves and bones under our feet?

our footprints with you in the sand
high tide


Less than humans
A man without a spine
Performs bending

Like snow on the edge of sleep
Who will touch her curve
Who will de-energize her vagina
Who will touch her soul

Do it in the dark
Do it against the darkness
Do it against the darkness
Squeeze all the light from the heart

Clenched fingers gnaw warmly
Eyes shine, silence swallows semen
Moans of pleasure chase the siren

to stand in eternal glory
flip through the prism of time
to gnaw its granite with its own life
expect a grant from heaven
hope to become angels after death
hope to become clean and naked again

Art is a crime, says death, with eye sockets wrapped around the fluttering eyelashes of crumpled corpse grass. Art is theft. The tub of night, wrapped in a kiss of indescribable sadness, without words or dreams, cracked and the closed eyes of people ready for the cemetery poured out of it.
Everything was already in the world, so everything new is stolen. All silence. Everything is a mouse. The gnawed border of feelings from which there is nowhere to escape. The ghetto of people painted with the red paint of spilled blood. Take us death to a magical paradise by the nooks and crannies and at least to hell anywhere, somewhere where weapons have not been invented.

He said let's do it in missionary position
Then it became quiet
A black hair fell on the snow-white sheet

Marauders of the sex shop when the owners left
The child got lost in the shopping center
A newly born orphan begs for alms

smoke is seen outside the city
autumn mist is missing
life floats away

sarabande in the ears
when we were born music became our homeland

all our lives we fight with silence
our whole life is a war with silence

the hole in my body is growing
rubbish is pouring out of the hole sand and thoughts

I draw a sculpture with my body
I draw а human with my body

I was invited to think madmen
the nightingale gives a night gala concert

there is a war for time
it's time for war

soft people with cruel humanity
my lips drink juice from the frozen ice of tears

I am madness frenzy insanity folly lunacy
my voice means death on the eve of the last endless war

children sing earthly songs
doves are silent in the sky

аnd which one of them
invented the nuclear 

to burn in fire while alive - not a single 
european Dante dreamed of such a thing
our moral window is shattered by the sound of rustling red flags
our eyes shine and lips sing a universal song
all people are really birds 
all people are really trees 
all people are really ordinary people 
world of non-existent balance 
world of non-essential balance
approbation of guilt that was forcibly squeezed into 
the heads
black people with a white (empty) conscience 
enter our temple and kill us

souls huddle with each other in a cauldron of justice
what kind of ghetto are they trying to drive us into once again?
who is trying to play cat and mouse with us?
who is trying to play billiards with our bodies and souls?

don't let the wolves be hungry
don't let the wolves get fed
don't let people turn into wolves

no animal is harmed
not a single hair will fall from your head
we won't let our humanity be destroyed
we won't let humanity be destroyed
so be it

dead and war