In the Depths of my Mind

Still outrivaled and surpassed
Lies my consciousness in dust.
It would hardly ever speak,
Since I lost my magic stick –
In the battle with the gloom
Had it broken, had to broom.
If I’d stayed and strived to win –
Would have had the chance to queen,
But so humble as I am
‘d better take my ease and clam.

Stubborn as we are

           Here is one more poem that was written by me, when I was 21. It was never shown to anyone, so you appear to be the first listener or reader it's better to say. It still has no name, but I call it usually "Stubborn". The name has come to me with the idea of people who are stubborn enough to acknowledge their own fault.

                                                                                       
“Help is needed!”, they cry in despair,
And they cover the heads with the hands.
Throwing promises up to the air,
Holy listeners hide in the sands.
Neither signs, nor the evident warnings
Make the listeners simply respond,
Make them keep their white-livered promise –
Still indifferent stays all beau-monde.

 
Sincerely,
Sam

Successful Trip to London!

             Here is my first published poem in London local magazine. They forbade me to give the name of the magazine in order to avoid plagiarism issues. So, here is the poem itself:

Writing

What is this word about?
With origin of dragging and tearing
Or with the meaning of scratching?
What, if I write it on the paper?
Will it change its meaning?
Will it remain the same color and texture?
Will it influence you differently,
If I write it two times, three times, ten times?
No? Then why write it?

 At last, I feel like a million dollars:) It's such a pleasant and warm feeling, when someone says your writing is worth something. I've never wanted to be at the top, but still I've been looking for some support and encouragement to write further. And I've found it! Yippee!!!

Sincerely,
Sam