Two texts about violence

As you know, our regular readers, Colta.ru does not publish poetry. However, for the sake of these two texts, the editors decided to make an exception. The situation when the best way to talk about the most painful points of our time is poetry, becomes an important part of today. The conversation about the violence that is being conducted everywhere today, from Facebook to large television channels, continues Oksana Vasyakina and Konstantin Shavlovsky . Rather, they begin it - on new grounds.

Oksana Vasyakina

What do I know about violence
When I was 13 years old I was raped by a bastard named Artyom

Tetkin's roommate before my eyes took her to the stairwell and jumped on her head in boots until she lost consciousness
The roommate of my mother beat her every month, she went to work with bruises
And every six months I went to the dentist so that he increased her front tooth knocked out by my father

What do I know about violence
All women were bits
Women were raped
Women got up and went to work
They went to cook food
and kissed their rapists

I write this text in the subway

Every two minutes I close notes and start to breathe
and count from one hundred to zero

everyone who knows what to do when it is done when
I want to jump on the rails
or flex your head on glass doors

one hundred
ninety nine
ninety eight
ninety seven
ninety six
ninety five

And I open notes again to write this text

Next to me, the man takes a message in the brutal language on the phone
I think and look at him
I think that poetry should migrate in the brutal language

Poetry should migrate in the language in which we can speak of violence and not fall into a spellbound rapture
talk about violence and do not hide it

Poetry should migrate in a language that will stop violence

What do I know about violence

ninety four
ninety three
ninety two
ninety one
ninety
eighty nine
eighty eight

I lived where violence
Not covered by anything
English teacher led lessons in sunglasses
And when she smiled
Broken lips began to shine with a protruding dryer

eighty seven

I lived where women and girls were raped
And it was the norm

eighty six

I don't know how to approach what I want to talk about now

eighty five
eighty four

I did everything to escape from the world where women are killed for the fact that they are women
I received an education
I have a good job
I have enough money for food

eighty three

When we speak and write: violence violence

eighty two

The more we think about him, the more difficult we manage to think about him and engage in criticism of violence

All smart people understand about state and media violence

eighty one
eighty

But we are not talking about violence in the community

seventy nine
seventy eight
seventy seven
seventy six
seventy five
seventy four
seventy three
seventy two
seventy one
seventy
sixty nine

I

sixty eight
sixty seven

I learned that the young poet
He raped my girlfriend
I also found out that he
I harassed my colleague
I remembered that I myself had a dubious episode with this poet

sixty six
sixty five
sixty four
sixty three

Another person from our community
raped me three years ago

He said that for him it was an important act
Through violence over me, he gained a lost phallus
He did it on purpose
sixty two
sixty one
sixty
fifty nine
fifty eight
fifty seven

I was not beaten
We were not beaten
They didn’t tear my clothes
did not tear our clothes

fifty six

how violence from the past differs from violence that men carry out among whom I live today

fifty five

And what name should I give what happened to me and other women

fifty four

I will not invent new names
I call what happened
rape

fifty three
fifty two

Why none of us talks about violence in the intellectual community

fifty one

Why

fifty

Why do men write texts about the war on which they have never been
and do not write about what they do with us here

forty nine

Why everyone read feminist texts
and become professionalists on Facebook
But none of the rapists admit his guilt publicly

forty eight

Why are women who survived

forty seven

Why none of the men admit his guilt

forty six

forty five
forty four

Everyone is afraid

forty three

be in isolation

forty two

insulation

forty one

When a woman

fourty

When a woman
When a woman
When a woman
When a woman
When a woman

thirty nine

I can tell you how I felt then

I believed this man

And he raped me

thirty eight

I know you wait for me to read to zero

thirty seven

But when I read

thirty six

I'll start again

thirty five

count

because

thirty four

I feel powerlessness

thirty three
thirty two
thirty one

my voice is not enough to stop

thirty

Everyone is afraid of a scandal

twenty nine

I don't want to write on Facebook about this
I want to talk to you about it
Now when we are all here
not for your computers

twenty eight

Because in Facebook noise

Women will drown
And I will drown in this noise

twenty seven

I want to talk

twenty six

And do not be afraid
Accusations
insulation
Blooding

twenty five

How we are
Poetesses of editor -in -chief philosophers Social researchers of the writer

twenty four

We can speak and not be afraid

twenty three

All power belongs to men

twenty two

women
who tell the truth
called witches and crazy

twenty one

How can I say

twenty
nineteen

If they didn't believe me
Then

eighteen

And they will not believe

seventeen

sixteen

fifteen

fourteen

thirteen

twelve

I feel powerlessness

eleven

ten
nine

eight
seven
six

impotence

five

impotence

four

impotence

three

impotence

two

impotence

one

impotence

zero

impotence

one hundred

Konstantin Shavlovsky

Mashenka, Medusa

Ilkoye Toe Liptoickeo

1.

I'm silent about violence

So far, some about him is talking about calling his experience with a partner of the other sex
love injury betrayal of misunderstanding
Creating your identity
From failure
-
Others are raped
my sisters in the gateway
Turning their faces
And what is under them in a dust

revenge
Under the cover of revenge
-
and experience without a language

I want to say
what is one and the same
And I can't

I am a rapist

Boys
born in the post -Soviet space
mothers -

The rapists

We are still produced
as a necessity
Like bread

////

My friend, having read this text, said that this method and this language do not convey the experience that I want to talk about. Maybe she said, because it is too direct text.

I think no. I think it is just too similar to the text, this text.

////

In the seventh grade
I was called Mashenka
For the fact that I did not care
And my hair is on my head
Gloomy
Like the tongues of small snakes

////

The victim can say about violence
challenge the community,
society,
state
Perhaps it will be supported
Likes on social networks

I do not devalue the experience of recognition
forcing to survive
sacrifice again and again

violence and new violence of those
who always has something to say

I speak
About that

that the rapist is always silent

////

From childhood we know
How do they do with rapists in the zone

Therefore, everyone
The rapist will be silent

Each is a rapist

All boys of the post -Soviet world
We are all silent

////

Passing to the side of the strong
We become a theater
scene with a curtain

intermission

////

Snakes in my head have long been dead
But the look is still capable
Stop, is possible

I'm Mashenka
I am a jellyfish

I speak

2.

Here and further
The certificate has no return
the statute of limitations
Gender
Colors

In addition to wallpaper color (lilac in a strip with flowers)

////

said
Releasing speech

////

Behind the cabinet made of red wood
bought during the years of NEP
who stood on Shucher
while in the back of the room
no no sounded so many times
that the closet could move

But he stayed

On the sofa of the sold
with a spent drawing
endless pattern
Body memory ornament
who does not
reasons for violence

There is no reason for violence
except

except violence

bodies above the body
bodies above the tongue

////

She said no
And then I took her in my arms
and transferred to the sofa

And when I realized that she
I really don't want to

Just have sex

It was too late

We were silent
not yet a taxi has come

////

The rapists do not say
Nowhere except the courtroom

Speech by the rapist
not justifying
and not sparing himself
impossible
Even in poetry

They are silent about it
Prose writers

They don't talk about it
In letters, even more so on social networks
In smokers with work colleagues
At literary evenings
generally in public spaces

In conversations with friends
The closest
Do not say

////

I want to admit
What raped a woman
When was a young man

////

I confess to rape
After fifteen years
Silence

To the rage of those
Who wants retaliation
I fell upon me

Here and now

////

In the industry of violence
There are no exceptions

////

those
Who is laundering the body
years
From weak traces
violence

as if
I then
It's me
He raped all women

////

Because no one
Will not be released
otherwise

That's why
What

////

In the industry of violence
There are no exceptions

3.

beyond the horizon of revenge
Non -winged butterflies
They started and flowed
down the eyes there
Where is the reference speech
Neo -fascists are conducting shame
To the final value

////

So far, revenge
It will be the only answer
to violence

We will not recognize him

Not distinguished
From the catcher

////

I turn
In soluble
unique
Quir-Chudovich

I am a rapist

I'm Mashenka

I am a jellyfish

At the Theater of weak traces
cabinet and sofa
Brown drawing
and a spot on the figure
The mouth is accused
and saliva in the mouth
Vaginal lubricant
Cum on the stomach

every
Stone day
expanded face