Nojus Saulytis

I was born in the Autumn of 1989 in Vilnius. I began writing poetry quite late, maybe when I was 16, after I found my father’s old notebook filled with poems. Besides writing, I enjoy recording videos with my camera, playing chess, and giving balloons as presents to my friends. I currently work at a museum (at the Former Detention House, a department of the National Museum of Lithuania). My first poetry book sms little flower (sms gėlytė) was published in 2020.

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reflections on belonging

a palmers chronicle right bw

Graphic Novels

Photo by Nojus Saulytis

Poems from the poetry book “sms little flower”

Translated by Rimas Uzgiris



i like you

i like you
but i tell my friend
that i like patricia
and thank my brother at his wedding
for seating me next to giedrė
but really
i like writing to monika
because she has this pink jacket
and she never meets up with me
because really
i like to lie in your bed
and kiss the handsome painter from the looney-bin
while you party at “opium” with your admirers
and come back at midday
when we aren’t there
where a cat waits patiently for you
along with empty bottles
while eternal fires wait for me
because i’m really a christian
hanging out with demons
and sometimes god
i like him too
but there are moments of weakness
when i really want god
to take me
and just do me
do me good.

maybe i’d be different then
and no one would
judge me



(because today i’m wearing white converses)

because today i’m wearing white converses
and i really can’t take part
in your graduation ceremony
i press the parentheses
and place for you in them
i press send.
and i hug you a bit
because today you’re more beautiful
than usual
your friends and family
are waiting for you
as well as a strange lunch
in a restaurant
for which your father
will try very hard to pay.

while you enjoy
each other’s company
all our flowers will lie
in your father’s car.
(they will burn a bit in there)
at some moment
a passer-by will look
at his reflection
in the car window
and on the other side of the street
a helium ballon
will escape from a little girl’s hand.

barely listening
to your mother’s praises
over a cup of coffee
will think about all that
for a little while.

 Nojus Saulytis 03Photo by Nojus Saulytis


high pressure

high pressure
hot sun
there’ll be lightning
in the evening
and thunder will rumble
through the sewer pipes
of tenement flats
under sweltering asphalt
under the streets
which cars wind up
onto their spindle-wheels

but for now
in the fields
no one’s afraid of that.

because we’re going
yes we’re going to sit on the grass
to watch the hot air balloons fly
and to play badminton
and drink wine
to read to each other and play
music loudly
and even if we don’t like people too much
we do it because we haven’t succeeded
yet at taking
our beloved unhappy girl
around the waist
and that
(that is wonderful).

but it’s going to rain soon
and there’s this huge lithuanian falcon
soaring above us.

we’re all watching him
and here are his wings
and here is he himself:

- - - - - - () - - - - - -



a year ago

on valentine’s day i got the gift of herpes
the next morning some geezer skied into our neighborhood yard
to feed the pigeons

a year before that on valentine’s day
i woke up in a strange bed
but it happened by accident and it took us a while to understand
so we greeted each other with a bit of unease

a year before that i celebrated the anniversary
of our squat in london almost overdosing on ecstasy
while watching amelie from montmartre
standing in front of the television
pouring tears
and passionately waving at the characters

a year before that i was homeless
sleeping on the sofas of friends
screaming at night the name of the woman i loved
they only told me later
a year before that i thought about how i don’t have a clue
as to what champagne to buy my girl
a year before that i left home
a year before that my parents left me
a year before that i wondered how long i could stay
a year before that i seriously believed in god for the first time
a year before that i thought so this is my whole life
a year before that i was sixteen and had long hair
a year before that i had much shorter hair
a year before that we took a picture of ourselves by niagara falls
and mommy is prettiest in that picture
a year before that we tried to catch salmon in a swift river
there were so many that they swam through our legs
but we had no luck with our rods so we finally
got our landing nets and just scooped away
we caught two big ones that way
and also took a picture

a year before that i consciously jacked-off for the first time
a year before that i broke up with my childhood love
and it was very sad
a year before that i used to call her at home
and sometimes her grandmother answered
a year before that i brought a toy gun to school
and the teacher took it away from me
but when she wasn’t there i opened her drawer
and took it
like a real man
a year before that i thought how big i was already
a year before that the older kids taught me how to play four square
a year before that i lived in fabijoniškės and we were robbed a lot
a year before that they tried to steal my dad’s new black bmw
that was given to him by a man with his mafia
and who tried to steal it back himself
a year before that there was certainly no bmw and no champagne
but my brother was born
a year before that i was paging through an illustrated bible
a year before that everyone celebrated my first birthday
a year before that my body entered the universe
a year before that my parents loved each other

 Nojus Saulytis 04Photo by Nojus Saulytis



ugh, spring

the police are riding
with their windows open,
you can almost hear their radios.

and the much longed-for school girls
are out with skirts
and striped japanese stockings,
speckled like lithuanian easter eggs.

it’s nice, what can you say – liver-leaf, daffodil
and the vagabonds can finally
sleep in the street.
let’s be happy for them
in this the time of happiness and rebirth,
in this the time of approaching exams,
of approaching summer, sea,
sand and thunder.

it goes without saying, but the tv antenna
on the neighbor’s balcony
is pleasantly warm in the sun.
of course, it’s not yet hot enough
to burn your hand when you touch it.

overall, super,
the trees are bursting in front of your eyes
and that’s the real faith.

so believe in yourself too, and touch yourself,
you don’t have to take off so many clothes.
and you can have dignified pride
in the underarm sweat-stain of your t-shirt.

everything is good.

even the children’s toys
stuck on the roof of the garage
are more pleasant today.
and the willows, the willows growing beside them,
good god, they don’t even seem to droop
but look like the hands of a teenage girl at the bus stop
sitting on david’s lap.

so then, flowers. i took them into the shade and watered them
because they were wilting on the windowsill from the heat.
flowers, trees, women, and the slightly older ones
who gaze indifferently at the youths,
but still notice, no doubt
the strangeness of your gaze,
what do they want? they’re in a theater, don’t worry.
and the men? where are the men?
the men find their strength again in the spring,
but they don’t like to talk about that.

little student bitches with hard nipples.
this very second a blond is driving a ferrari
on the main street of town.
i expect she gets pretty good bouquets.

i expect the bikers are happy,
cutting through town in a tender night breeze
passing suburban gas stations
under a full moon.

we understand.
in playgrounds the kids
thrust their hands deeply into sand,
and cars drive above rivers on bridges
under which you once smoked weed.

so what’s the worry? impossible, i say,
time does not think about that.
the river flows under your bridge,
the police are almost on vacation,
god rides a spaceship from mars.

i gaze at the water while
you all water your plants.
soon a dog will bark.
soon a stone in the river will be caressed.
soon your cat on your back.
me too soon.

me too soon,
i’ll live
also with you.


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