Анар Аккозы-Каракозы

 Анар Аккозы-Каракозы    I was born in Alma-Ata in 1966 I studied at the Kazakh Teacher training College of Abay and I gained the diploma as a logopedist. Since the childhood I well drew and read a lot of fiction. My father – the journalist and the publicist – collected fine library, since the Children’s world literature, classics of different   genres, including poetry.

    My favourite writers are Jack London, Mark Twain, Thomas Mor, Walter Scott, George Byron, William Shakespeare, Johnathan Swift, J. Darrell, Saul Bellow, Herbert Wells, Somerset Maugham, Charlz Dickens, John Galsworthy, Э.Хэмингуэй, F. S. Fitzgerald, Remarque, Jorge Borges and others. From 12 years I was inspired by poetry of Abay of Kunanbayev, Marina Tsvetaeva and Anna Akhmatova, George Byron, Thomas Mor, Shandor Petefi, Andrey Voznesensky, R. Rozhdestvenskogo and others.

   Still studying at school, I tried to write verses, drew wall newspapers, even houses for every holiday prepared wall newspapers for a family and guests. Here at me the journalistic talent started being shown. But parents were against revenues to journalistic faculty and forced me to become the logopedist. Sitting at lectures at institute, I wrote comic verses on student’s life, the parody to students and teachers. We played KVN – there for team I thought out jokes, songs, sketches. And in free time, of course, I wrote lyrics. But it is especially confidential, “in a table”. As it is always modest and self-critical. I graduated from music school No. 1 in Alma-Ata on a piano class.

   My favourite composers – I.S. Bach, L.wan Beethoven, Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov, Gliere, Haydn and many others. My favourite music bands – Beatles, Bee Gees, Dos-Mukasan and others.

   Having worked as the logopedist at school, I understood that this profession is absolutely not interesting to me. Also I decided to achieve the treasured objective – all the same I became the journalist. Here I became the true professional since work brought me pleasure and the good fees. The journalism on radio and TV – became business of my life. Then I became the producer and the PR manager in the sphere of music, advertizing, teleprojects, art projects. Everywhere to me my musical and poetic gift is useful. I write exclusive advertizing slogans, author’s jingles and songs with music and words. This creativity is pleasant to me and customers, serious and clever people.

    When I draw pictures, surely I switch off all phones, I turn on the favourite music on mood, on character of a plot of a picture. Music helps creative process of creation of a cloth! picture oil. Creative process of creation of verses happens approximately so: I see some real picture from life, natural phenomena, manifestations of the human relations and emotions, then in mind the thought as it is healthy is born! It is advisable to write about it beautiful verses. Then some days, months – you carry this germ in yourself, you consider, you ripen, you are at proper words, rhymes, a rhythm. And then you understand that already I ripened, initial lines come – and then it is necessary at once, immediately to take a notebook and the handle and to write down. Then work is continued within half an hour or several hours, sometimes some days. In general, always differently. But this creativity overflows with the head. There are verses come at night before going to bed, then it is necessary not to be lazy, and to rise and write down. All this work of mind, thought, imagination!

   Reading literary works, I always present everything in color, live pictures. On the pleasant verses, and pulls to paint pictures, something is. And having seen someone’s interesting picture, feelings and desire to write verses too are born. And such works are. I published some verses on the page in the Internet and received fine comments from friends and acquaintances. They asked to publish still. But I, alas, have no time because of loading at the main work. To the verses I gave rise idea to paint a picture oil somehow to splash out in paints seen once early in the morning at dacha in mountains! I send for your Competition to soy the poem “Smoke over Mountains” and the picture of the same name based on.

   I worked as the logoped at school in 1991. In 1992 – 1998 I worked in State broadcasting company Kazakhstan as the journalist, the commentator, I conducted author’s talk-shows. I created Creative Club “Art-Skachok” and the Argamaki KZ & Derby in the Hat art project devoted to horses, jumps and design hatsofficial page www. facebook.com/art.scachok.

    I worked as the PR manager in the State museum of arts of a name of A.Kasteev, I carried out PR campaign of the 80 anniversary of the Union of artists of RK, I carried out opening of exhibitions and opening days, as the organizer, and also, as the artist as a part of group of artists of the city of Alma-Ata in private galleries.

Now I work in the company in the agrobusiness spherebusiness very heavy, this work takes away many my forces and time… I wrote many poems for children. But, alas, while anywhere I didn’t publish. I do in the spare time journalism, PR campaigns under the order, art and creativity. My hobbies: drawing, photo, riding, swimming, big and table tennis, floriculture, billiard.

     I send for your Competition to soy the poem “Smoke over Mountains” and the picture of the same name based on. I think and hope, too it will be interesting to you to get acquainted with my creativity. I wish you pleasant reading!

Д ы м    н а д    г о р а м и…

В октябре в золотом обрамлении,

сверху – утренние лучи,

снизу – охристая листва

без границ по бокам,


распахнули свои объятия взору,

привычно ищущему в Алатау опору,

любимые наши Тянь-Шаньские,

коронами и малахаями

подпирающие неба просторы,

монументально-прекрасно-огромные г о р ы…

Просыпаемся мы,

Просыпается мир.

Ранний час не проспи!

Погляди,  чудеса начались:

Пеликан, превращаясь в Дракона,

величаво уходит в горы,

повернув к нам зубастую пасть,

озирается, щерясь по-доброму,

оказалось, что вовремя –

из вьющейся струйки дымка

из той же дачной трубы,

изящно виляя хребтом,

вынырнула с хохолком

Подруга его безмятежная,


Надо же?

И здесь инь и янь…

Далее гигантский тандем

Пополз вверх по склону

Мирно, почти синхронно

над домами и селами горными.

Перед долгим полетом

к собратьям своим облакам,

околоземным мирам

и космическим сферам


Подкрепились гиганты «на скорую»

из добрых, вечно-зеленых лап

восточных тянь-шанских красавиц – стройных долгожительниц елей


что послано –

снежно-нежным десертом

и искристым мороженым.


Что ж,

я счастлива вместе с ними


что смогла лицезреть –

этот дивно-волшебный,








явлений природы,

о том,

чем живут наши горы

и как величаво, достойно

провожают в небо

добрых драконов…



               Smoke over mountains

(life of our mountains)


In October in the gold framing,

from above are morning rays,

from below is an okhre foliage

without scopes on each side,

threw open the cuddles a look,

to usually searching support in Alatau,

sweet one our Tyan’-shan’skie,

by crowns and malakhayami *

proppings up sky spaces,

monumental-beautiful-enormous  mountains…

We wake up,

The world Wakes up.

Early hour – you not skip!

Look, miracle began:


Pelican, growing into Dragon,

stately goes away to the mountains,

turning a dental fall to us,

looks around, grinning to for-kind,

appeared, that in time –

from the curling trickle of puff of smoke

from a that summer residence pipe,

refined wagging a backbone,

Gerl-friend – fellow-traveller came up tufted his serene,


Is it necessary?

And here in’ and yan’…


Further a giant tandem

Crept upwards on a slope

Peacefully, almost synchronously

above houses and villages mountain.

Before long flight

to the colleagues to the clouds,

circumterrestrial worlds

and to the space spheres

Giants refreshed oneself «on a fast»

from kind, eternal-green paws

east by tyan’-shanski beautiful women –  slender long-livers of fir-trees

that is sent –

by a snow-tender dessert

and sparkling ice-cream.


and I am happy together with them


that able to behold –

this marvellous-magic,



passing-flying away, mysterious-smoke-coloured,




the phenomenon of nature,



what our mountains live

by and as stately,


accompany in sky kind dragons…


Очень плохоПлохоУдовлетворительноХорошоОтлично (17 голосов, средний бал: 3,00 из 5)