Letter To Prince Charming

Letter
To: Prince Charming
From: The Sleeping Beauty

Prince,
Because I don’t live in a fairytale,
But in the ugly image of Reality.
Because your horse’s hoofs are damaged,
And I got tired of pretending to be sleeping,
Because you kissed all the beauties,
That you met on your way,
(and on the highways)
Because… even asleep I’m not dumb.
So, Prince, there is no point of you arriving.
I married the brother of the farrier,
He is a blacksmith. Of happiness. Not a puff.
And he does not communicate with other fairytales.
Don’t even think of sharpening you sword.
He’s a blacksmith and he is a tough one.
The fairytale ended a long time ago.
For you - I don’t give a rat’s ass anymore.

Sincerely,
The Sleeping Beauty

Писмо от Спящата Красавица До Принца

до Принца На Приказките
от Спящата Красавица В Реала

Принце,

Понеже вече не живеея в приказка,
а в грозната картинка на Реала,
понеже конят ти си потроши копитата,
а аз се скъсах да се правя на заспала,
понеже ти целуна всичките красавици,
които ти се мярнаха по пътя,
(освен по пътя - и по магистралите)
Понеже ... и заспала не съм тъпа.

Та, Принце,

няма смисъл да пристигаш.
Омъжих се за брата на коняря,
Той е ковач. На щастие. Не лигльо.
И с чужди приказки не разговаря.
Не си помисляй да си точиш меча.
Ковач е той – не му е рядка плетката.
Отдавна приказката свърши вече.
За теб ми дреме само на жилетката.

Подпис:
Спящата Красавица

To meet Mr. Old Harry

I did not believe that it would happen to me
to keep company with Old Harry.
Champagne and lustre and fragrance of “Gucci”,
Refined ladies and caviar…
Cocktail-party of elite, famous people,
In a chic hotel close to the city,
It was night as in a black womb
That was ready to fire the sin.
And into the restaurant, it was so hot there…
Because of the sounds, looks and vanity,
Everybody talked to somebody something
But nobody listened to anybody. Yes…

I was unattended but invited
by a mysterious stranger, unknown to me.
And I felt myself so important and lucky
to be a princess in that Palace.
I stood close to the door of a winter garden
And take up thirstily the World around me
When a gentleman went past me
like a puff of wind. I was charmed. Fatal attraction…
He was so handsome, unaffected and smiling….
In wonder I understand he called me
(just by a look) to enter with him in the garden.
I followed him, entered there and did not think
That it is unusual. The tone of his voice was so tender
And quiet... He told me –
“Baby, it is me.
My name is Old Nick, Old Harry, the Devil...
Everybody despises me, but everybody wants me.
I am full with money and temptations.
I am the Lord in shadow and the good God despises me.
I invited you here and the only reason for that is that I would like to own you.
I’ve done research all over the World
And understand you are the person who I need.
Only you in this snobbish, mad and merciless city...
Don’t tell me “No” because you would like this.
I can read your thoughts, I can enter there...
You are depraved but somehow clear after being wrong.
I heard if I have your body and soul,
I will be able to learn that little trick
And after I will become the most favorite student
And a friend of God again and for ever...”

I followed closely Mr. Old Harry,
Gave him a pat by a look, disdained him in my soul
and we made love after that.
Two trees blossomed in white
in the paradise garden.

Lust

I am putting on my female skin
in a puffy perfume cloud.
My vision turns to pink
and I have a thing in mind.

I am gonna come straight after dinner -
and please, no lit up candles -
this bloody romance makes me shiver,
I need you a mischievous vandal!

Don't fool around with silly compliments
I know it all about myself...
Just grab me there and at once,
and drive me straight to hell.

I'm gonna wear my female skin
'till six and something in the dawn.
I'll leave you with the memory of sin
and before you know it I'll be gone...

The subsequent meeting

Your eyes are full of specks,
Old-fashioned sentiments’ specks...
Hi,
I haven’t seen you for a hundred years
I’ve expected this moment for a long
Time.
You still wear gold in your
Hair,
Just white snow flashes here and
There.
You are lovely and proud...
Dazzling...
The man who you’ve chosen is lucky.
I envy him quite no-gently,
Darling...
Because he has you, I was late...
Please, sit close to me, Kate...
I’ll see you after a hundred years again.
And tell me when you return
My heart,
You captivated it a hundred years
Ago.
I live heartless ... It’s
A bad card...
I feel my heart to beat just now.
So,
Your eyes are full of specks,
And tears... You are
Here...
I haven’t seen you for a long time.
Please, sit close to me,
Dear.
Please... embrace me and don’t cry...

The Last

The spades are digging a grave for me,
on their own because the gravediggers are crying.
And Time is getting on in crazy gallop
to you, Death.
I wonder if the silly boys
Who I have ever loved
Will throw crumbly soil on top of my grave
Or will please the jagged spades,
before offering to them new graves.
I wonder if my children will
Be able to partition the heritage
or for the sake of 3 leaky saucepans
They will start hating each other.
Will the children of the children,
of my children find the hidden messages
In my diaries and will they be able to see
my tears dropped upon to my favourite poems
which I wrote out when I was tearing to pieces,
because of nostalgia and suffering,
and because of love for my hangmen?
The spades are digging.
The catafalque is waiting for me. Let it be waiting.
I am coming.
When the gypsies begin to cry like violins
and the cemetery becomes deep in mud,
because of their tear,
and the deceased people
start singing under the marble hoods,
I will come so young and proud, and cold.
The place close to me will be free.
My pride will take a seat there
to protect my soul of friends and God.

The Pebble

I am clenching my teeth
I am going ahead
And I survive somehow
During the nameless nights and days.
Every evil can be forgotten. I forget.
It is not painful like that.
Only you I cannot forget,
You are the most tenacious Evil.
You are my emotion, my fire.
Sometimes I think you are my Goodness.
You are a pebble in my pocket,
A white bird among the black flight,
A Precious nacreous cufflink
or my lighthouse in the night.
You are for me Yesterday,
Today and Tomorrow.
You are my most favourite sin.
Thinking of you every morning,
I survive during the nondescript days.
Let the moralists defame me.
Let God judge me how he prefers.
You are my pebble, my gem.
Did you hear my song?
Am I for you the same?

монолог на сребролюбеца

Парите шумят, подрънкват, клокочат.
Парите са моята тайна любов.
Дълбоко ги вдишвам. И бавно. Нарочно.
Парите. За тях съм на всичко готов.
Парите са моята майчица свята,
бащицата, най-върховитият бог.
Парите са прешлените по гръбнака
на безгръбначното ми същество.
Парите в банкноти, монети и карти.
Парите - врата към широкия свят,
към свобода, към щастлива анархия.
Не ми се прави на духовно богат...
Вържи си душата във носната кърпа,
стегни я във възел и забрави.
Душата, приятел, е болка загърбена
за мене. Душата не струва пари.
Заплюй ги поетите. Овчи създания.
В сълзИ и сополи се давят докрай.
С душите напред и с неземно страдание
разтягат локуми за някакъв рай.
Подай им монетка и те я превръщат
в езически идол - в огромна луна.
Банкнотите - в книги, не в лъскави къщи,
а с кредитни карти купуват тъга.
Животът е хубав. Парите са чудо.
Вържи си душата, приятел. Ела.
Обичам парите безумно. До лудост.
Защо ли ми трябва два грама душа...

почти любов

Върни звездите на небето -
не се нуждая от звезди.
Голяма съм отдавна. Ето,
не вярвам в думите,
както преди.

Не ме засипвай
със клишета.
Съвсем направо си кажи -
защо ме търсиш?
Само секс ли
желаеш? Да ли? Ех, и ти...
Не стой сковано.
Отпусни се.
Навън нощта е без звезди.
Защо открадна й
звездите?
Когато тръгваш,
ги върни.
Сега очите си затварям.
И мисля, че е Любовта....
Наум молитва изговарям...
Догаря в тъмното свещта...
Ти имаш опит
със жените,
не съм светица
също аз.
Прашинки дразнят
във очите,
сребристи, малки...
Звезден прах...

Не светвай. Остави вратата
отключена.
От лунен кош
сипе светулки тишината.
Или звезди...
Ей... Лека нощ!