Odysseys of an Idling Polar Sun (Musical Diary of My Spiritual Journey to the Ukraine, Oct 2017)

The Crystallizing Carpathian Mountains Are the Perfect Scenery for an Existential Parable About the Profound Spiritual Essence of Our Human Lives as an Integral and Inseparable Part of Nature

As Much as the Land Is Fertile, Beautiful and Dreamy - The People Decay Regardless and Grow Backwards Spiritually With the Help of Stifling Cigarettes, Cheap Vodka and Inbuilt Machoism

Goldfinches Sing an Uneven Lullaby in a Remote Ukrainian Village, but Nobody Hears Its Heart-Wrenching Song but Me, the Tourist-Poet

A Ghost From the Far Past (A Recreation of a Rendezvous with a Friend Whom I Haven't Seen for Many Years)

Speechless Dogmas Cannot Portray How Nationalism Destroys Our Innermost Individuality, as Well as the Ability to Genuinely Connect to Others Without the Falsehood of Patriotism, Hence the Infantile Nationalist Keeps Burrowing Like a Barbarian in His Own Language and Customs, Denying Everything Else

Agoraphobic Proverbs (A Vulnerable Quest Through the Catacombs of Odessa)

Only Love Can Heal the Wounds of Time

You're Taking Yourselves and Your Incidental Role in History Too Seriously, Rewriting It to Your Own Liking, Covering Up Your Killing Sprees in the Second World War and Celebrating Your Rampage Killers as National Heroes, All the While Magnifying the Marginal Status of Your Mediocre Cultural Heroes

Ferocious Night Butterflies and Young Gypsy Girls Will Transform Your Compassionate Stance Into an Orgy of Neuro-Linguistic Fables

Infernal Morals of a People Seeking Identity in All the Wrong Places and Via All the Wrong Proxies, While They Live Untouched by Technology and Development, Having No Real Masters to Guide Them, So They Nourish Their Christian Roots, Although These Roots Haven't Led Them Toward the Age Enlightenment

Futureless You Shall Be, Unless You Choose a Different Fate, Starting With Replacing All Your Self-Absorbed Leaders and Corrupt Mentors, This Is Not a Riddle but a Straightforward Prophecy

A False Sense of Duty and an Incurable Virus of Self-Importance Are a Partisan's Best Assets in Yet Another Deadly War for Somebody Else's Profit, While the General Population Remains Poor in Spirit and Without Any Hope for a Brighter Future Ahead

Nothing to Remember, Nothing to Regret (At the Barren Tombs of Emeritus Jewish Saints, the First and Only Authentic Masters of the Ecstatic Devotion Movement Known as Hasidut, Quickly Escalating to Cult-Following Whilst Losing the Spiritual Nucleus in the Process of Stripping Itself of Its Essence)

At the Tomb of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov in Uman, I Saw Nothing but Wretched Poverty, Spiritual Naughtiness and Unscrupulous Beggars, the Hasidic Sun Has Lost Its Light (If It Ever Had One) But Nobody Told the Hasidim About It, So They Maintain Their Savage Worship Like Madmen

Leaving This Paradisal Wonderland With Conflicting Feelings and Disagreeable Sensations About the Dangers and Pitfalls of a Motherland and the Illusory Sense of Belonging