A porcelain doll
Shatters when she hits the floor
Only shards are left
So she mends herself again,
Again, again, and again.

The intensity with which we shatter
Those what’s-left-of-us shards that cut you deep
Brokenness and jagged edges
When prices paid with pieces feels too steep

Only two things cause our own destruction
We’re broken from without or from within
The damage goes beyond reconstruction
We can’t build what we built before again

Cracked into piles of debris on the floor
The remnants of escaped emotion’s cage
Whose seething burn couldn’t take it anymore
Disposing of it disrespects its rage

We’re broken so that something is released
Those shards remind us what we have to do
To put them back is just what matters least
But don’t cut yourself making something new. .... © Jennifer L DeLong 2/20/20

A piece of me is gone
Scattered with memories
Lustful and dreadful
At times I loose my self
Deep within myself
Searching for a piece I once had
Now scattered in unfamiliar places
The more I dig deep
The more I get broken into shards
Am not made of glass
Nor is it the element of being
Not fragile but broken
Am only human

i keep my pride under house arrest

tied to an enema of ***** soda

that stops at the border of the premises

what a great laugh crawls from the nailed headboards

and sips from my resolve

i try not to show my subordinates the pressure points I worry about

but the maintenance staff knows too much

the maintenance staff keeps us up the most

they read the cracks in the plates

silverware scratched from being thrown around

every shard is collected

the professionals recommend 3 square meals a day

my pride is offered for breakfast

3 eggs, potatoes made one way, a dragonball shaped pancake

with 5 chocolate chips, and an apple skewered sideways

coffee is poured over top soul

my pride is offered for lunch

grilled cheese, something plain and boring, chips, something also plain and boring,

Gatorade, or overdone redemption

my pride is offered for dinner

grease, a good burrito with grease, an IPA,,,toast to mix things up, a joy ride with Cassidy, a waterbed of folk music, (zero ***** given), pesto penne, another IPA, a timeshare just south, and sometimes dessert

after yelling at the neighbors some

and a few reruns on adult swim

the ***** soda kicks in with a little extra

and puts us all to sleep

in 25 years

when the sentence is over

I don’t think it will find the same 3 square meals a day

Vera Pavlova: English Translations of Russian Poems by Vera Pavlova

Shattered

I shattered your heart;
now I limp through the shards
barefoot.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Seasons

Winter―a beast.
Spring―a bud.
Summer―a bug.
Autumn―a bird.
The rest of the time I'm a woman.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Pygmalion

Immortalize me!
With your bare, warm palm
please sculpt and mold my malleable snow.
Polish me until I glow.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Scales

Scales:
on the one hand joy;
on the other sorrow.
Sorrow is the weightier;
therefore joy
elevates.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Muse

A muse inspires when she arrives,
a wife when she departs,
a mistress when she’s absent.
Would you like me to manage all that simultaneously?
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stone Wall

You, my dear, are my shielding stone:
to sing behind, or bash my head on.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fluttering

Remember me as I am this instant: abrupt and absent,
my words fluttering like moths trapped in a curtain.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Flight

I have been dropped
and fell from such
immense heights
for so long that
perhaps I still
have enough
time to learn
how to
fly.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Three versions of Vera Pavlova's "tightrope" poem:

I test the tightrope,
balancing a child
in each arm.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I walk a tightrope,
balanced by a child
in each arm.
—Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I test the tightrope,
balanced by a child
in each arm.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

God saw
it was good.
Adam saw
it was impressive.
Eve saw
it was improvable.
—Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vera Pavlova is a Russian poet. Born in Moscow, she is a graduate of the Schnittke College of Music and the Gnessin Academy of Music, where she specialized in music history. She is the author of twenty collections of poetry, four opera librettos, and the lyrics to two cantatas. Her poetry has appeared in The New Yorker and other major literary publications. Keywords/Tags: Pavlova, Russian, translations, epigrams, woman, female, shards, seasons, scales, tightrope, child, arm, sorrow, joy, shattered, heart, broken, glass, limp, limping, barefoot, snow, sculpt, mold, polish

English Translations of Russian Poems by Vera Pavlova

Shattered

I shattered your heart;
now I limp through the shards
barefoot.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Seasons

Winter―a beast.
Spring―a bud.
Summer―a bug.
Autumn―a bird.
Otherwise I'm a woman.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Pygmalion

Immortalize me!
With your bare, warm palm
please sculpt and mold my malleable snow.
Polish me until I glow.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Scales

Scales:
on the one hand joy;
on the other sorrow.
Sorrow is weightier;
therefore joy
elevates.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Muse

A muse inspires when she arrives,
a wife when she departs,
a mistress when she’s absent.
Would you like me to manage all that simultaneously?
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stone Wall

You, my dear, are my shielding stone:
to sing behind, or bash my head on.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fluttering

Remember me as I am this instant: abrupt and absent,
my words fluttering like moths trapped in a curtain.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Flight

I have been dropped
and fell from such
immense heights
for so long that
perhaps I still
have enough
time to learn
how to
fly.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

God saw
it was good.
Adam saw
it was impressive.
Eve saw
it was improvable.
—Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Three versions of Vera Pavlova's "tightrope" poem:

I test the tightrope,
balancing a child
in each arm.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I walk a tightrope,
balanced by a child
in each arm.
—Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I test the tightrope,
balanced by a child
in each arm.
―Vera Pavlova, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vera Pavlova is a Russian poet. Born in Moscow, she is a graduate of the Schnittke College of Music and the Gnessin Academy of Music, where she specialized in music history. She is the author of twenty collections of poetry, four opera librettos, and the lyrics to two cantatas. Her poetry has appeared in The New Yorker and other major literary publications. Keywords/Tags: Pavlova, Russian, translations, epigrams, woman, female, shards, seasons, scales, tightrope, child, arm, sorrow, joy, shattered, heart, broken, glass, limp, limping, barefoot, snow, sculpt, mold, polish

Cracks in a window
Can they be just like mine?
No it can't be
So fragile
Everywhere
But still there
It can't pick which is worse
It must all feel worse
It's getting out of hand
It can't understand
Just let me shatter it now
But how?
I don't have anything to use
Maybe my hand
I can punch it
In a blinding rage
Sadness
An ugly sadness
So painful
A pain that I can understand
But I fear someone's gonna notice
They might just get upset
"Why'd you you have to shatter it!?"
I hear them cry in an angering sad
So I just sit and stare at the cracks once again
I can't disappoint
So I sit and stare for a long time again
Maybe they are like me
It can't be
It just can't