Category Archives: russian patriotic poetry

Russian Patriotic Poetry Contest, January 2011

Ladies and Gentlemen, in honor of the New Year, emilyaxford.wordpress.com has resurrected it’s sometimes monthly, mostly biannual (see: both definitions) Russian Patriotic Poetry Contest! And so, like a fish that’s been caught, cooked, then comes back to life in the middle of your chowder party, it returns!
So buckle your seatbelts. Just kidding, Volgas are notoriously unsafe vehicles, and when faced with a decision between installing seatbelts or hood ornaments of large breasted milk maids, they chose the latter. So duct tape yourself to the chigger infested seats, we’re going on a wild ride through the backroads of the Slavic Psyche.

A picture of our three lucky winners just before they enjoyed a complementary bush plane tour of several Latvian dairy farms, followed by a complementary lecture about Latvia’s farm subsidiary program. Left to Right: Aleksei Eltsov, Feodor Svilienko, Isaak Hvorotovsky

Third Place!

Aleksei Eltsov,
Bicep Sculptor, Daycare Analyst

Godless wasteland
Peppered by the footprints of mobsters and Jews
May your flowers wilt
May your rivers run red with blood
May the teeth of your peoples rain from their infected gums
May your many libidinous yaks find their fate in the path of an ice floe
May your churches, though false storefronts they be,
Find the shallow barrier between earth and hell
Not strong enough to hold the weight of their patron’s sin
I hope your clouds, cavorting in the sky like adulterers and conspirators,
surfeit themselves on the bitter water from the dirty lakes
That so many have pissed vodka into.
Yes, I am writing this from the Volgograd DMV, where I have been on line for two weeks trying to get a permit to use my goat as a commercial vehicle.
Also heads up the vending machine here is out of order because its monkey attendant has developed an unsightly mange.

Second Place!

Feodor Svilienko,
Distresser of American Jean Pants, Amateur Philanthropist

Why do you cry, little bird, little bird?
Why oh why do you cry?
For your mother, little bird, do you cry do you cry
For Mother Russia to sing you a lullaby
Mother Russia sings a lullaby
So Sweetly, so gently
Voice of an angel
Voice of the Virgin Mary
Only slightly marred by cigarettes
Lots and lots of soviet cigarettes
Which are just the lungs of coal miners
Wrapped up in conscription papers.

Second Place!

Isaak Hrovotovsky,
Private Garage Attendant, Sauce Peddler

Oh, Soviet Sauce Peddler
Peddle your sauces to me!
For my chickens so dry,
I will pay prettily.
For sauce enough to dampen
This chicken so dry
Chicken dry enough to make seem wet
My wife’s dust bowl vagina.

Russian Patriotic Poetry: Christmas Edition

Greetings Friends and Spambots! It is the return of emilyaxford.wordpress.com’s critically acclaimed Russian Patriotic Poetry contest! Let’s be honest, it’s too cold for foreplay, so let’s get right to it! Please note, we’ve got a second time winner, Mr. Egor Krizlova.

russian-man-january-11 Third Place!

Yanik Tanzvel,
Seeker of Truth, Picker Upper of Pennies

Come into my secret garden,
Come into,
Come into.
Come into my secret garden,
Come for I love you.

Everybody say
Yanik, you cannot grow mango
Yanik, you cannot grow pineapple
Yanik, you cannot buy coconut tree online then plant in your backyard

Soon everybody say
Yanik, you please make me homemade fresh fruit daquiri
Yanik, so many women you possess like dogs
Yanik, how big your coconuts you cut in half and put little baby inside

Come into my secret garden,
Come into,
Come into.
Come into my secret garden,
Come for I love you.

russian-man-january-21 Second Place!

Vladyar Barykviktor
Cosmetic Dimple Surgeon

Dearest Mother Land!
Even as I grow older,
My love for you grows younger.
More tender.
Rosier cheeked.
More carefree.
So teasing with its little curls
wearing that wool jumper your wife made for its name day
saying “Uncle Vladyar, let me sit on your knee.”
More innocent.
More hairless.
More scared to say no because I am an authority figure.

rpp-feb3.jpg First Place!

Egor Krizlova, Public Nuisance and Sometime Crossing Guard

Avast ye, curdled-bellied1 theif;
For if thou loves dearer than a Klevtron 20002,
Swallow the fang of an Olekztrak3 and let the Gremliv’s Song4 pour from your mouth,
for we all know your father fiddled with the sticks5 :
Is it the ‘threesome’ or the ‘with your sister’ part that freaks you out?

1Curdled-bellied refers to an affliction that Russian women experience where after they give birth, if they spend too much time in the bathtub their distended bellies shrivel up and look like curds and whey.

2Klevtron 2000 was a robot released in 2002 that was supposed to provide love and support without pesky consequences like asking for it in return. Although the Klevtron 2000 was a huge commercial failure, you can still find it in stores being sold as a can opener alarm clock.

3An Olekztrak is a domesticated cat native to Chernobyl that, due to lingering radiation, is born with highly developed opposable thumbs. They are very desirable, due to the fact that they are very good with a loom and childcare. Swallowing their fangs is supposed to be good luck, although more often then not it results in internal bleeding.

4 Gremliv was a popular singer in 1983 who’s hit song “Muzak to my Kulak” was the theme song for the popular television show Kulak Follies . Gremliv’s popularity died out when tabloids uncovered he was actually a 45 year old woman who was on the lam for an internet scam involving the website http://www.PuppiesThatNeverBecomeAdultDogs.com.

5 “fiddled with the sticks” is a popular phrase, born out of one of Russia’s more romanticized famines. It refers to quitting one’s job by showing up to work, but not doing any work, just fiddling with two sticks you found on your way to work. It was a phenomenon that was first seen in the Grey Depression (1787-1789) that was later embraced by a new epoch of disenchanted 20-25 year old temps and part-timers in the late nineties.

Russian Patriotic Poetry: April

Здравствуйте! As the fertile shower of April become the lazy Sundays of May, we here at emilyaxford.wordpress.com take time out of our busy schedule (we netflixed the entire first season of Family Ties) to sift through last months submissions and offer a belated celebration of the zeitgeist of the landmass formerly known as the Soviet Union. Turn down the tv and take out an earbud, cause these fellas have a song to sing and they don’t need a drink special and a teleprompter to do it. So without further red tape, overbearing bureaucracy, and excessive government regulation, I present the winners of last month’s Russian Patriotic Poetry contest.

Third Place!

Georgy Rzhykov, Chewer Of Grains For The Toothless

I will build a shrine for you
from the bodies of my ex-lovers.
You like that don’t you.
You are kinky for a cripple.

Second Place!

Honza Petrov, Occupational Therapist

Russia!
Alright well yes you are built for heavy labor
But maybe you’d be happier in a career that challenged your mind.
How about smelting?
There’s a lot of growth in that industry these days.
You’re just uninspired by your current career path.
And who can blame you? A mind like yours is hardly content with baser forms of labor.
What about a career that offers opportunities for independence and an extensive benefits package,
Like oxen yoking?
Stonemasonry probably offers the greatest mobility.
Sure, you’ll start out in the quarry,
But once you’ve established yourself and made a few connections
You’re on the fast track to carving and inscribing gravestones.
A lot of my clients can attest that giving yourself to public service can be extremely self-gratifying.
Have you thought about well maintenance?
It takes a real hero to dive in and rescue the community from uncertain thirst when little Boris drops the bucket.
Not to mention those buckets get holes like whoa.

First Place!

Pavel Kvovlov, Stepladder Distribution

Russia: Angel in the Tundra!
My soul stirs for you!
Some devotchkas just want me for my livestock.
They say Pavel, you have so many livestock, how did you inherit so many livestocks?
Pavel, you make love me in the stable where you keep your many livestocks.
Move your head I want a clear view of your livestocks when I experience climax.
You are different, beautiful bride.
You say Pavel, you are skillful with handsaw.
You are sturdy and stout, Pavel.
Pavel, you make love me anywhere, so long as it is warm enough for me to unbutton my long underwear.
You love me for who I am.
Not just my impressive collection of livestock.
So yeah thanks for that.

Russian Patriotic Poetry: February

Shalom! (russian? sp?) As many of you noticed, there was no January installment of emilyaxford.wordpress.com‘s monthly Russian Patriotic Poetry contest, due to the fact that it gets so cold their ethernet cables freeze. That being said, our beloved slavs have defrosted their dated hardware, as well as their literary inspiration, to bring us the newest round of prose and prattle could put love in an orphan’s heart and hair on a ballerina’s ankle. Enjoy!

rpp-feb2.jpg Third Place!
Viggo Zhertov, Inventor

Oh Russia.
OH Russia!
Mmm yeah.
Oooh yeah.
Wait.
Hold on.
I’ve never done this before.
I love you too.
Oh, Russia.
Oh Russia you’re so…
Wait.
Have you done this before?
It just seemed like…
Cause that way you said…
Of course I trust you.
I just think we’re moving too fast.
I guess you’re right.
I’m sorry.
No I want to.
I do I’m in the mood let’s do you know.
Oh Russia oh Russia oh…
Wait.
Be gentle.
Ouch.
Ouch be gentler!
Ouch!!
Russia!
Look just do it as quick as you can.
Are you done yet?
Shit, I think I just heard my dad load his spear gun.

rpp-feb1.jpg Second Place!
Mikhail Rublev, Lender of Services

Russia : Home :: Chicken Sandwich : Dinner
Russia : Heaven :: Tiny Boy : Chased by Larger Boy
Russia : Peace :: Mustache : Angry all the time!!!
Resourceful
Useful
Senseful
Sourceful
Interesting
Apple-full
RUSSIA!

rpp-feb3.jpg First Place!
Egor Krizlova, Public Nuisance and Sometime Crossing Guard

Ye tho the eye of Slovodan the Grievous 1 bewept;
Ye tho the cunning of Baryshnikita2 tried the patience of the Grey-bearded lust worm3 ;
Ye tho the Kruschvedev4 winds played upon Dmitri the Braided’s 5 sternum on the hazy Mondays that we used to spend in Tsavov6;
I would still f you even if you were on your period

1Slovodan the Grievous is the infamous warlord famous for his breadth of shoulder. Measuring at three and a half feet, Slovodan the Grievous brought ‘custom tailoring’ back to the seventeenth century Muscovite Fashion scene.

2Baryshnikita was a fabled steppe sprite that stole rubles from inbetween the seat cushions. In what was supposed to be a simple game of find the potato inbetween my legs™ Baryshnikita proved to be the only contender who was able to beat the Grey-bearded lust worm at his own game.

3The Grey-bearded lust worm is a mythical mischief maker, the origin of which we can date back to the Gorbachev presidency, who was widely known for his find the potato inbetween my legs™, a popular game amongst the peasants and the self-aware privileged classes.

4 Kruschvedev refers to an undisclosed nuclear testing facility that was hidden behind the set from the 1930’s Hollywood Western “Jack’s Saloon and the Neighboring Dry Goods Store.”

5 Dmitri the Braided was Russia’s first female basketball player. She got a lot of publicity for chest bumping Josef Stalin after a victory against Lichtenstein. Coined the phrase, “I dunno, what else am I supposed to do with a pickled turnip?”

6 Tsavov is a beach town in Southern Russia frequented by the lower classes. Often referred to sardonically as “Tsavoov,” which is to say “Poop Town.”

Russian Patriotic Poetry: December

The winners are in for emilyaxford.wordpress.com‘s monthly Russian Patriotic Poetry Contest. Thanks to everyone who submitted, except for Viktor Gorkovsky who submitted a picture of his genitals draped across the face of a wild goat (I knew you’d abuse your newfound privilege as ‘keeper of the village iPhone’). So without further ado…

grigory_rasputin.jpg Third Place!

Eduard Slavsky, Poultry Butcher

Russia.
Russia, Russia!
Russia: Russia; Russia?
— Russia.
You are complicated but in a mysterious and brooding way. I bet you come from a fucked up family.
That’s kind of hot.

min-russian.jpg

Second Place!

Grigory Potemkin, Skipper of Stones

O Humble Queen!
My Cold War Cutie!
Envelope me in your breadth!
Your ever-expanding borders!
Your robust figure!
Spilling over the waistband of your pants!
(Seriously, I can see it every time you bend down to pick something up.
That shirt is not long enough.
I mean really are those love handles or satellite states. They are huge.
You should really wear a size14 at least.
I don’t care what your girlfriends tell you, you’re not a 12 anymore.)

sibirien_26.jpg First Place!

Leonid Tsarev, Skipper of Stones Emeritus

Beloved Nation!
My love calls to you!
Meet me in the steppes!
No, not those steppes.
The other steppes.
The steppes two steppes down from those steppes.
Are you kidding me, you don’t know what steppes I am talking about?
Fine, I’ll meet you at your place.
Tell your father I am too tired to grapple. He really hurt me last time.

Russian Patriotic Poetry: November

The winners are in for emilyaxford.wordpress.com‘s monthly Russian Patriotic Poetry Contest . Grab a tissue and properly protect non-waterproof electronics because there’s nothing so beautiful as a man who loves his country.

index.jpg Third Place!

Ivan Kruschev, Tender of Livestocks.

Russia, my frost-bitten mistress!
Turtle-faced liar.
I will feed you the dung you deserve.
I will smear it on your crooked teeth.
I will squeeze the blush from your bloated heifer cheeks.
I need you so much please don’t leave me.

russia_man.jpg Second Place!

Yuri Dvorak, Father of seventeen.

Oh, Russia!
Your dancing eyes.
Your pretty mouth.
They are mine.
Only mine.
No one else can have them.
Come here and let me carve them out of your face.
Your sweet angel’s face.
It is mine.
Not his.
While we’re at it, let’s carve out your face too.
Nothing left but your swan’s neck.
Your pretty swan’s neck.
My pretty swan’s neck.
I am going to need a bigger knife.
Now you are all mine!

wd.jpg First Place!

Alexei Petranonvak, Aerospace Engineer.

Homeland! Oh heavenly dreamscape!
The tears your mounds and pits summon to my eyes!
The butterflies in my stomach!
How do you do it?
Is it magic?
Are you a sorceress?
DIRTY WITCH.
You’ll burn for your misdeeds.