The Work of American Poet Igor Goldkind

Archive for November 26, 2017

3 New Poems: Your Soul; Mysterious Hands; Pray for Money




Your Soul

So who is this Soul that you sing of?
The silent, invisible witness
Who counts the leaves off of trees
instead of gathering them?
Then raking them into a funerary circle,
Into a giant pile, your better self can fall from,
Or jump into?
Up to your eyeballs,
Up to your own little crown of thorns.559235_429780530417814_1780624763_n

Mysterious Hands

The world is not a mystery, children.
It is an enigma waiting to solved
Or a safe that awaits its own combination.
A puzzle patiently poised for its pieces to coincide
With your hands.
The question is not who made the world we exist in
The question is who made your hands?




I can no longer afford my own vices.5718636537_f504c250b9_b
Is this g/d’s way of saving me?
If so, then more salvation and
Less mystery is all I can say.
Lead me to more fortune and less poverty, g/d.
So that I can pave my own way.








Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a glorious day,
I’ve got a wonderful fee-ling,
That Donald is going away!