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Demy Molentor Mar 2019
And so there was a dummy,
All proud of his bloodline, all right and all rules.
And he ***** up friendship,
Didn’t miss another one transfer away.

But he never cared,
Always chill ‘cause “mom and dad and stuff are still there”.
Didn’t feel that much pain,
Valued dust over gold.

Then he fell out favor with faith,
As he wasn’t nowhere near perfect, human to the bone.
With no friends to back him up,
He thought family would understand him.

Break the news, they didn’t love him no more,
Say the truth they never did.
He just wasn’t the one they loved, not the picture they’ve painted.
And he alone in his mind no less, he deserved no more.
Demy Molentor Mar 2019
Залишусь ліпше кроликом з «Аліси...»,
Щоб коли ти мене знов встрінеш,
Мій нерівний крок тобі почувся,
Мій свавільний оклик тебе зупинив,
Час норовом  невірним повертать любов.

It would be safer to remain the rabbit from the “Alice..”,
So that when you meet me yet again,
You hear that uneven step of mine,
And my reckless greeting stops you in your tracks.
It’s time to win back love with my bad temper.
Demy Molentor Feb 2019
Myself, I search for someone to hide amongst,  to hide inside.
For those not so wierd people who’d welcome in a wierdo.

And those people, when I find them, feel like tiny chambers haunted by Home,
Home the spirit, with their androgynous appearance and their kinda insane eyes.

And it’s so safe wether we’re madmen everyone mistakes for junkies, or
we’re flamboyant kids in a far right camp.
But something always happens to the chamber, all of them are ruins now.

That’s all because somebody’s moved away, and someone’s passed away,
Or someone don’t like his awesome brothers, and they tell me they hate each other,
           while I want them to love.

So what I wanna say is I met you the other day, it felt almost too cool.
The warmth was there, our laughs were there... and Home the spirit’s grave.

It wasn’t scary, I’ve only noticed it when I had put this memory of ours on repeat.
From right to left: it’s garage, road, sidewalk, two of us, and safety lying in a pit.
Demy Molentor Jan 2019
The cracked down on him, inhuman heroes.
They were from the same squad, he and the bullies.
They’ve been laughing at his temper full of stragness.
But you made the talll one say “sorry”, he was the king of bullies

“Why let him with just one “sorry”?” Here am I, right beside you.
I say it like I’m wicked, and smile along with you.
And with joke I hope hil a wound of his or two.
A couple years shall pass, and he’ll be a mountain guarding weak ones, too.

Oh, yes, hi will be guarding with the strength of words.
His eyes, they burn, like sunset skies if you look eastwards.
Hi will be our fellow, buiding from chaos of freedom the best of worlds.
He was saved today, well he will save tomorrow, big friend, trust in these words.
A year ago I translated my best poems from English into my native languages.
Now it’s time I do it in reverse. This is translation of “Gorah”. The original is in Ukrainian.
Demy Molentor Jan 2019
Let me call you brother,
Since you treat me like a child.
Look down beside your feet,
Black water streams are running wild.

It’s loud rain, oh brother,
Thank god we ve been sitting under this tree.
Don’t run so fast, let me catch up,
The sky’s so bright with all the lightnings setting themselves free.

The streets are empty, all men are gone,
And we’re the only ones outside, we laugh on our way.
The crossing, all cars wait with red light on their backs,
The restaurants we pass are empty, reflected in the puddles on our way.

You run inside that mall,wait for me enter,
Inside it smells like sea side ruins.
You point to a cafe, we go there, our coats smell like rain.
Oh, don’t you dare, I’ll pay, just help count the coins.

The cafe’s bright, barista smiles as we choose
Two drinks, that do not match.
The rain keeps on, keep up,
You say “ I love the sound”, but you don’t like the wind that much.

The place is empty, but we do not stay,
We roam the mall like it’s a maze.
The loud rain’s a lullaby, but we don’t sleep,
We talk, while lightings try to set it all ablaze.
Trying to get back to my bad poetry’s roots.
  Jan 2019 Demy Molentor
kiran goswami
Her love was like the moonlight,
Somedays too much love,
And
Somedays no love.
Demy Molentor Dec 2018
I am not alone but lonely,
Yet I wanna be
Not lonly but alone.

My dear teacher’s left for Peking,
And another for Seul,
Now no one’s here to guide me, my heart’s gone.
My friend’s left for Peking,
My lover’s almost always busy.
Tokyo, now you are not home.

Sakuras are now all in bloom.
All people go to see them, every one takes selfies.
My phone’s feed’s overflowing with their bloom.
I play flute and I write haikus in my native language,
But not a line, not a note did I get out of my self about the bloom.

And now In my home,
I don’t have room of my own own,
And grandma’s tv is far to loud unless it’s mute.
Help me, please, please let me put a futon
underneath tatami,
Please let me beneneath the floar,
And let me break my flute.

When get out home, I scream in parks’ directiona,
“Wait for me to get better, you ******* Sakuras, don’t bloom”
I am now 17, I wanna die before I’m 50,
Don’t wanna waste a single season.
But I am a sick man a I cursse in front of elders,
And scream (people can hear me) “Sakuras, don’t bloom”.
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