Poems

The poem always was for me the form of expression of feelings. In two-three stanzas finds room much – the overflowing emotions asking on will of thought, impetuous passion. Not having possibility to give vent to this all on a paper, for a long time would descend suma from an overabundance of feelings. And so – anything, it was possible to consult. Improbably it would be desirable, not spending, certainly, not deserved analogies to repeat thereupon Sergey Yesenin's words: «as to other autobiographical data, - they in my verses».

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The strange

You call by phone,
You speak: «Mashkov?». "I" —
I answer severely.
«Hi, strange mine!».

And in an impetuous smile
Lips have blurred.
Again I do errors!
Again I will crash from the sky downwards.

I did not think to fall in love,
From itself you drove.
So it tried not to be given,
That has absolutely become crazy.

And now here – admire!
All not that. And I – not I. Well?
To you on taste
This «strange yours»?

18.02.07.

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31.05.2007 21:24 Verse with the concealed sense. To me has liked, though I can not tell, that would carry it to the category of the best. But transition from the usual beginning to something indifidualnomu has liked me.
Ksjusha Gunka (Gunja)


20.09.2007 19:11 It was pleasant. And in general your verses are laconic, emotional also the live. With heat. Victor
Victor


© Mashkova Irina Vladimirovna, 2007
info@irina.freetzi.com

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