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Post Graduate Life from a Poet's Perspective

By Anna Stepankova

The Lambert Turning Points
Photo by Dalia Kolomeytseva

Now I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it

The pain of the world fell on me in the shape of a collapsing entity

First smaller rocks tapping my back

Reminding me that not all is blue and pink

Larger ones then pounded at my soul’s door

Showing me

How all I know is quite gray

How every laughter is tainted by hidden pain

How all anger is a cry for love’s soothing voice

How every soul walks through unimaginable suffering before death’s release

And my world no longer dances in pink

But crawls and slouches in a gray odor of life’s beatings

Sometimes it turns dark, chased by all that wants to survive

But sometimes I see the shimmering light and the world floods with gold

Heavy rocks flew onto my shoulders

Now I slouch under the weight of every step too

Circling in the endless search for bright lightness

Wondering whether I can continue so seamlessly

Carrying invisible loads

Knowing fully well

to expect greater falls

Don’t you know darling

Skyscrapers are the stars of our world

And if you don’t make it there, you’re not worthy of heaven


The Lambert Turning Points
Photo by Dalia Kolomeytseva

How could you care about a dime

When our only true wealth is time


Those who fight for life in their head every waking hour

Can no longer see the silhouette of hope in the rear windows

If you stop and listen carefully

when you sit side by side

You can hear the screams of fighting thoughts

It’s not a simple task to hide

But if you put down your pride

And slow down your mind

You can see how you and me are still the same kind


I smile at life

And life smiles back at me


The stars were falling

My life was calling

Bring me back to life they said

The unspoken words, the untouched dreams

Tame all of my hidden screams

Kill me to be with you they whispered

Life is just a coincidence

Switch my flip and I’ll be yours

Nobody is coming to save us

So you have to spend your whole life

Searching and inviting your inner light

To pull you from your darkest days

And shine on your brightest ones


As I drawn in my own sorrows

I wonder what I would tell a child in my distress

I would ask her whether she knows why lights flicker in the distance

Why they wink at you like stars in the sky

There are many elements blocking your clear sight

The wind, the dust, preventing you from seeing

But that doesn’t deny the light’s existence

They still shine for you bright and clear, without a true blink or hesitation

Your light is there in the distance too

I see your goals shimmering every time I look at the skyline

They’re there, waiting for you

You just feel far with elements blocking your mind from seeing clearly

But step by step, you’ll walk towards it

And find that they were shining bright for you all along


The Lambert Turning Points
Photo by Dalia Kolomeytseva

Sunrises turn into sunsets at a devilish speed

You and I might never know what we truly need

Turning the blank pages of tomorrow’s

What if they could drown our sorrows

If filled ashtrays could speak

They’d tell you the story of empty glasses

How hope turned it’s cheek


Exactly a month ago I couldn't get out of bed and every movement felt like a risk. Every step was a burden and every breath was a small curse. Today, in the stroking light of the sunset's rays, I bathe in the joyful aroma of southern Spain. Life feels light and every ray of morning sun feels like a blessing. At the core, I still walk alone, but that no longer carries an odor of pain, but opportunity. The power of freedom has been returned into my accepting hands and my grip moves in purposeful strokes. I can paint my own life with colors and textures I get to choose. The sweet taste of possibilities pierced my tongue and I carry it with the helping hand that hope offered. No goal is too grand for a soul that is patient. No place is too far for a soul that believes in the goodness of all people’s hearts. No thought is too insane for a mind that is open. Anything is possible and all of it is waiting for you to hear its gentle calling. Every small decision can lead you to exactly where you need to be.

But never forget that at the top of every hill stands another to climb.

Every sunset I see here feels like a painting the world offers to you as a reminder that life is yours to live and she is here to do so with you, offering itself on a golden plate.

Nowadays, most of the world moves in pink and yellow undertones that make everything shine under a hazy cover of white soft light. Each stroke that the world has been painted with is gentle and only touched the sky’s surface to let it live a life of its own. In the tenderness of pastels was every grain of sand placed exactly where it belongs. Each tender blow of the wind stroked your cheek with care and the rhythm that waves have chosen today softly caress the shore. The mighty mountains surrounding this city stand tall and proud to remind you of how small all your troubles are compared to their greatness, and that your life is nothing but a fleeting moment. A piece of time that they will gracefully watch pass by and stand tall regardless, way past your existence. Below the skies, where you might be sitting one day too, they like to form a gentle silhouette for you to see whenever you glance at the distance hoping to catch the worries that could torment your future steps. The birds too, only fly as high as the sky reaches, knowing their limits, yet a sight of them indicates how insignificance is no sign of fear. They are living within their own deluded perception, yet come together with the world in complete synchronicity. Aligned with their peers, they form clouds that move across the sky, whispering that harmony is possible for all living creatures. They know that their power is in togetherness and describe how one can never truly be better than another.


After all, I think life might be much like the ocean and the shore. The waves can grow large and whip the shore rather cruelly. Despite the shore’s beauty and its unbelievable ability to mend every step it has been imprinted with, the sea still decides to continue its strokes carelessly. Strike after strike, the shore takes its beatings, only for it to be hit again. Just as the white mountaintops try to disarm any brave soul that wishes to see it, the white wavetops let us know she too will have no mercy.

But sometimes, when days shine brighter and the world's touch feels warmer, the waves grow kind and gently stroke the shore’s surface with every care in the world. Smaller strokes tickle every grain and you can be sure that no stone will sit unturned. Every wave slowly uncovers every edge, every crease, and even the most stubborn shells let go and surrender eventually. Just so do the challenges we encounter reveal every hidden piece of us. Some of these bits we see for the very first time in light’s unforgiving brightness. But you must know that the shore never knows the reason for the cruel wave’s arrival, the duration of its stay, or the time when it will be stroked again. With every piece of its being, the sand accepts every incomer and never blames its unknown creator. The shore surrenders to what we call life and always recovers from even the cruelest of storms.

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