Poetry by Tiina Veikat
welcome to the middle of nowhere,
ripe and taunting air so sulky, so crisp, so bare
whilst the most voluptuously muddy waters
stream consciously in hidden moonbow quarters,
here I’m an apostrophe, carefully suspended by the hair
around me – lit up is a strange muffled blabla-fair,
but see, here one gets the absolute best view
and for free – can admire at the adjective-packed review.
I sometimes wonder, if we could all shut up
for an hour, a day, even a year,
would then our attention-seeking eyes hush up
the fact that we’d acquired a new and prudent gear,
because in the middle of nowhere
the starving depth, crisp and richly bare
one finds time to mull over all genres of insanities
before acting upon the urges of bravado’s vanities.
About the Poet
Holding some degrees in French, International relations, Art history and Diplomacy has not proved to be as worthwhile as the intoxication of “having butterflies” in Tiina´s stomach whilst building and trimming lines and dots on white paper. Tiina has until now wrtitten in Estonian but English and French have recently become appealing portals, promising rich hunting grounds. All in all, if Tiina could, she´d live in a library. She´d only need a sleep pod, shaped like a bookshelf.