Fragments of Uncertainty & Other Poetry by Ivan Peledov

Online Open Mic – 2021

Ponder with me the exciting writings of Ivan Peledov! He paints wonderous abstract pictures that transform perspective.

My Favorite Line: “Behold the horror of flying books in the tiny teacups of the world.”

Fragments of Uncertainty


No one wants to notice 

four deformed angels 

filming the same small world,

reading books to our ancestors,

vivisecting time.


There is a mongrel car without a steering wheel

in the middle of defaced music.

The hiding sun is full of burning cash. 

The tongues of water are sweet

at the bottom of a vase.


An army of dead composers 

invades the moon.

What can we do? 

Geese don’t trust the skyline

or the language of icy roofs.


At night the residents fry ponderous vegetables 

in sizeless pans. The pants of a coyote 

have managed to deceive a couple of stars. 

The homeless have long forgotten when they 

touched the earth the last time. 

Behold the horror of flying books

in the tiny teacups of the world.

The Rest of It

And now the eye of the Moon

is hidden deep in the silent tale

of a mad grasshopper, drunk 

with her afternoon sneezes.

Herons inhale reflections of thunder 

in the rivers the stars have never seen 

and the raindrops fail to paint.

Gods bless all the sunken boats.


Ivan Peledov is a poet living in Colorado. He has been published in Unlikely Stories, Eunoia Review, Sonic Boom, Illuminations, and other magazines.


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Ivan Peledov – Online Open Mic


It is easy to wear a mask made of the vomit of the sun 

walking the streets of a timid town in search of

the perfect background for every sacred word 

cumbersome in the eye of a bird or a beast.

Canine laughter might be served as a breakfast 

for nauseous music you are too afraid to hear.

Slumber Bigger Than Life

36 days ago I couldn’t 

touch the claws of the clouds

and the scratches made by flowers

on somnolent walls. Consider the reptiles:

Under the snow they smell, smile, simulate

happiness of the eyeless sky.

Imaginary Crumbs

Shadows and mice invade the parks

and the mirrors of the towns cursed by the roar 

of butterflies between the seasons.

Hibernating leaves are ashamed of revealing the future.

A story of blabbering flowerless vases

has been buried in oblivious ice.

I am serious as a vacuum cleaner:

Words are the duds of mute angels

that loathe doing the laundry.


Ivan Peledov lives in Colorado. He loves to travel and to forget the places he has visited. He has been recently published in Goat’s Milk Magazine, The Collidescope, iō Literary Journal, and Wend Poetry.

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