blog > Art > Lyuve poetry

Last day of summer by Misha Lyuve

Sep 10, 2015

Last day of summer, don’t be so sad;

Inevitable you’ll be back.

My fingers are sticky with juices of peach,

They smell of your body and beach.

Not for long….

ARE WE READY – introduction by Misha Lyuve

Mar 30, 2013

Director and editor: Zao Wang

ARE WE READY – it is a question and not a question…

All profits from album sales go to Worldwide Orphans Foundation. Be generous

Mosquito lessons by Misha Lyuve

Jan 13, 2013

Last night I fed an army of mosquitoes.
They made a feast of my flesh and blood.
And as I laid helpless in the darkness
I felt like a martyr for nothing.

I tried to reason with them that I have an album coming out,
That I lead a consulting gig and that I am a good person.
But they didn’t give a damn, preferring to my goodness,
The sweetness of my blood, they found abundantly favorable.

I was madly furious, for never I’m ignored so bluntly
And no one molests me unpunishingly.
The stings itched godlessly and kept me awake wild-eyed.
But when I felt most desperate, I was granted wisdom.

What is there to hate mosquitoes for?
Only fault of theirs is that they are true to their nature.

Granted I’m not fond of their nature,
But their “being true” is quite admirable.
I wish I had that much zeal to stay true
To my self in my endeavors and obligations.

And if in times when I feel as tiny as a mosquito,
I could create as much impact as it does -
Then, at the moments of my greatness
I could sweep the universe of its feet.

Koh-Lanta, Thailand
November 2012

ARE WE READY – introduction by Misha Lyuve

Dec 29, 2012

ARE WE READY -
it is a question and not a question.
And as a question
it needs an answer or no answer.
And as an answer
it can be both, yes and no -
For how could you be ready for
what you don’t know?
And how could you not be ready
when future’s coming now and steady?

ARE WE READY -
it is a calling, a calling forward.
Of wind that haven’t touched your face,
of mount tops you haven’t concurred,
of truth that haven’t yet been spoken.

ARE WE READY -
the future’s calling: come and get me!
And in response, the heart is roaring.
The heart is roaring like million waterfalls
that are storming through your mighty veins.

You might be soaked in fear.
Your hands might feel numb.
Your mouth might not find words.

But at the point
when the future
and the heart
come together
in a motion, an embrace resembling,
the universe will tremble
in ecstasy of the divine conception
and share gifts with you
otherwise unattainable.

And this is how it works.

Blurry by Misha Lyuve

Dec 13, 2012

The future looks blurry.
The birds flew in different directions.
Some dreams blossomed unexpectedly
bringing sweet buds and flowers
and promises of fruit;
they stroke tender strings of the heart
with wings of anticipation.

Some dreams crashed against reality,
wrong expectations,
lack of talent, effort or luck –
and all you want to do is run away
screaming “fuck this shit”
and consume boxes of chocolate
till there is a hole in the stomach.

Is it dumb to expect
evenness to this perpetuity?
Or the only way to get there
is by sticking big toes of my feet into my ears
and chanting ohms till I’m delirious?
But surely don’t settle for “it’s going to be ok”
because it is not necessarily true, though comforting.

They say that it is through confusion
that the path to clarity lies,
and that broken hearts and empty vessels
have a calling for inspiration,
and if you piece back bruised parts together
you might still get out there
and cause some trouble.

Cheers to that.

How we shot “Happiness” by Misha Lyuve

Nov 23, 2012

By the mid of the first day of the video shoot everyone was humming the tune.

I was looking for happiness with persistent aggressiveness

I was trying to find it in outrageous experiences

I was chasing it closely like a madman who fights his insanity

But instead I could feel only tired and cynical

Even the angry dude who yelled “go do your fag thing someplace else” and threatened to call police, had a role in the production. He deserves credit. He became a point of reference that allowed us appreciate how smoothly the whole shot went considering how much could’ve gone wrong.

My happiness waited inside of me quietly

It whispered “look in yourself to find me”

But I made so much mess around me

That I couldn’t see things clear and obvious

There was a phenomenal team of directors (Damian and Patrick), experts in light and camera (Simon and Thierre), movers and shakers (Melissa and Lilliana), and many others (Tammy-Lou, Cédric, Marija, Marina, Étienne, Vincent, Christophe and many more) – about 30 people had a role to play. And of course there was tango – spicy, elegant, life-giving (brilliant Bobby and Roxanne). I worked and managed many teams in my professional career, but I’ve never seen such a smooth team of strangers show up out of nowhere.

I was looking for love with tremendous committed intensity

I explored people’s faces on trains not to miss my love anywhere

I moved countries to find it, traveled exotic vicinities

But my heart only shrunk from sadness and loneliness

It took two full days of hard work to shoot footage for a low budget production of a 4 minute song. I had no idea about what it takes to make a video. This project was a mere coincidence that was glued together by luck and trust

So many times love looked at me kindly

With its warm eyes it shared its beautiful tenderness

So fast I ran I couldn’t even notice it

And if I did I thought better love is in some other place

With that nothing could have been easier: because for every idea and every step that was required for the project to move forward, one person made an introduction to the next one, each problem found its solution, each circumstance supported its successor.

I was looking for purpose of living in books philosophical

I was trying to find an answer to whether life’s meaningless

I was losing myself in purposeless blames and arguments

But today I can say who I am, in words simple and genuine

I am a man who’s in love with life ardently

I want to be honest, loving and generous

And follow dreams bright like stars and sometimes unreachable

And to have you my friends, my loved ones around me

So at the end, there is just being grateful for all that happened and for all new possibilities this experience has opened up for me.

And the song is about you.

Pictures #1, 2, 4, 5 by Luzaby Mars Photography

Hurricane contemplations by Misha Lyuve

Nov 3, 2012

Natural disasters, what are you -

Terrorists of nature,

Capricious whims of a spoiled child,

Enforcers of natural selection or

Obedient messengers of the mysterious one?

Or are you an alarm clock for the people,

The arrogant ones, so used to their comforts,

Who’re planning plans like fools,

Soaking in illusions of safety

Like a king without clothes?


Or do you appear as reminders

Of our human smallness

And how easily we turn

Vulnerable and needy, like little children

That look for mother’s titty?


Or are you here to teach us lessons

On ridiculousness of our assumptions,

On separating preciousness from bullshit,

On giving a chance for heroes to awaken,

And acts of kindness mixed with unbreakable relatedness of humans?

Chronology of a Life by Misha Lyuve

Aug 25, 2012

The seasons come one after another

Without a warning or asking for permission

Why be surprised? – They are very consistent.

Each of them brings its own gift and is calling for its own.

Are you ready to embrace it?

Because this is where the real wisdom lies.

Are you willing to find beauty in each every of them?

Because this is when life  becomes a work-of-art.

For none of them is better than the other one

And each of them can be as blissful as the rest.

Concept and photography by Dr. Mikhail Tis

Wisdom, a Bhutan inpired poem by Misha Lyuve

Jan 8, 2011

Wisdom

Of many men of many days
Just two are subject of this song,
They live their lives in different way,
But let’s not judge who’s right, who’s wrong.
 
            The first one had most stubborn eyes,
           If there’s a mount he came across,
           He had to reach up to its highs
           Regardless rain or fog or frost. 
 
                      And if a sparkle of a fear
                      Hid in a corner of his heart
                      He fought for it to disappear
                      For he and fear lived apart.
 
 The second man had gentle hands,
He’d stare for hours at a rose
And sing her love and magic chants
That at a moonlight he’d compose.
 
           And at the ocean’s yellow sands
           When sun would open sleepy eyes
           He’d greet it with a morning dance
           And watch its beauty slowly rise. 
 
                      If chance brought these two to one place,
                      They wouldn’t catch each other’s sight;
                      One would stroll up with rapid pace,
                      While other’s dreaming in sunlight. 
 
This not-so-accidental miss
Is not a problem whatsoever.
This story has a subtle twist
These two are one man however. 
 
           When first one tests the strength of will
           The second’s heart is pierced by sword;
           When latter sits at river still
           The first one is so deadly bored.
 
                      What’s wisdom? It’s an art of knowing
                      Which rose to love, which mount to climb,
                      Each inner world, expressed and growing,
                      To have its peace, its place, its time.