About poetry I write sometimes

Трепещите новое вмогилвливанье!! (неологизм, ять!)
for dear sweet sweet sweet
Two wise men
in one old tank
were made the trip
while storming sea...
Ok, I can not find the original emotions and make some lyrics... Well...




Once at the time of blooming trees
I saw a bird between the brunches.
Old elms gone young
and filled new juice.
The shame grasses start to grow.
I listen, lie upon the hill,
as long as I can not dreamed away.
I listen song, the thrill - awake!
Continued and was as mead,
as sweetest honey,
as a gift
of golden mid'day's
striped bee.~
*well well, what can I tell?*

i danced till the strange eons came and ruled.
With my hungry leeche,
who can change his face and names -
but not his empty inside.
He has no soul,
only roasted
and freezed
and pierced
and lonely
heart,
full of black venom.
And his tongue...
I can not speak.
It's too dangerous
~
the bird was hidden in the mist
which covered muddy hollow.
(sorry for my english
i could not see it.
The red lights stood
on the top of horizon,
when sun is waiting,
want not leave the land
the song was cut.
The bird was dead.
The fog is gone -
and now I see.
But what i saw -
i never tell.
Not thee,
not anybody else...

~i think this is not the sort of poetry. It is more the poor short story. May be, the kind of dark meditation?
~
Interesting... How do you think? If i post on DA some text written by english letters, but in Russian- do you understand something?
Or I can translate one of my last poem to you, my friend, if you want.
About Black River i live behind... For me it is very mythic place...
I like to play with words. I use a lot of neologisms, the contrasts and the opposite meaning in one sentence. So i am still not so great educated to translate this in any another language which is not my native.