WORDS BY THE AUTHOR / Language is a heritage – generous present given to us by our parents and the land where we grew up. Sometimes, origin dictates everything. Sometimes, it’s only the first chapter.
Nine months ago, I came to Prague with two valizas. A lot of things I couldn’t take with me: my rosemary, piano, all my books, all the people I needed. But I took what I couldn’t not to take: my heritage. It was like an ancient sarcophagus – you can have it but you can’t use it reasonably.
You can speak/write/scream/dream it but nobody will understand. So, I lost my voice and wasn’t a writer anymore.
Only thanks to people who share the same semantics of situations and semiotics of feelings as me, I’ve started writing again.
My new language consists of words from different languages, some words contain mistakes or new meanings, and some don’t exist at all.
These first texts became the fundament of my future heritage. Migrating next time, I’ll take them with me and gratefully turn the next chapter’s page, again.
NOVEMBER INFLAMMATION
A piece of skin tissue sounds like
the wind above the leaves of grass
while caressing the back
from south to north.
A game of birthmarks
is so similar to scrabble:
to create the words
looking for the common language
for all the body parts.
“Not found”.
To clutch the wrist and to demand the translator.
A piece of skin tissue sounds like
an alarm.
Body is screaming in a voiceless movement,
numbed fingers are looking for
the right birthmark to push
to stop the siren.
“Not found”.
To clutch the throat and to demand
instructions.
“Not found”.
To clutch the hair and to demand
help.
“Not found”.
To clutch the wall and to demand
the door.
To go out and lie down
on the grass.
46 deep holes instead of birthmarks.
Let the leaves of grass in.
LOOKING FROM THE CORNER
My dress suits you
My face suits you
when you put it on frosty pillow
with summer ornament
But my pillow has no questions
neither for you
nor for my chair
that is used to your touches like a dog
nor for my table
that is used to your touches like a horse
I’ve taught my furniture
not to be jealous
but only tamed
I’ve learned to sew dresses
from bedclothes
tablecloths
and curtains
Again, this last one suits you
even with wrinkles of my face on it
with print of your red lips
Icy sunflowers of December! –
That’s how I call the picture with you
I see in my bedroom
Kingdom of winter
with a marvelous field in the middle
A horse and a dog are racing
through a wall of giant flowers
and none is broken
none is touched
I have no questions
I’m a watcher here
I’m pillow in the corner of uncovered empty bed
like December at the end of calendar
REVERSE SINGING WITH PADGET
“I’ll wait till the waiting
become unbearable”
“As soon as you get used to it
it lets you go
for a while”
I’ll wait till the silence
become unbearable
And will start singing the poems
from the book
I read on the subway everyday
with two adjectives ALONE on the cover
Adverbs?
Or proper names?
How proper are they?
Can I appropriate one?
For a while
I’ll ask the doctor
To write this name in a prescription
Hmmm – says the doctor
Khm
Uh
Uhu
Gm
Mmm
Pfff
Yep
See you in a month
Don’t be so scared of the side effects
It’s only a book
For a while
……………………………………………….
OCEAN, FULL OF JELLY
Boiled sea becomes ocean
and fish starts the life of jellyfish
life
till the end of the age
age
when the first rivers were born
when the watersheds have appeared.
A jellyfish is dancing in white foam
remembering nothing
jellyfish is gentle
jellyfish is silent
till the end of the ocean.
Jellyfish has stopped and looked around:
“The sky above the port
was the colour of television
turned to a dead channel”.
How are you feeling, Jelly?
Is white noise white because of the salt in the water?
Do jellyfishes go to cyberspace after they sting?
There is no encyclopedia to find out.
There is nobody who could tell.
There is no narrator who could finish this story
ABOUT THE AUTHOR / Iryna Zahladko (1986) is a Ukrainian writer, the author of the poetry book “Wail and Breeze”, disapprobatory children’s book translator, independent curator, incidental performer, uncontrolled cultural activist. She’s been living in Prague since 2019.
