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fotografija

boze,
sta da napisem o tome.

to volim da radim,
ponekad od toga zivim.
kad u to gledam:
ponekad sam tuzan,
ponekad sam srecan.

drago lice
vidim kao da je tu.
ruzno,
okrenem, izbrisem
i kao da nije bilo tu.

to je magija
koja vjecno traje.

boze,
samo je vazno da znam
sta ne mogu slikati.

BEOGRAD,
19.08.2011
5.35 PM

poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Edges/Rubovi

sometimes you think the edges are
the edges of a flight
sometimes you think the edges are
the edges of a fall
but you cannot know that
unless you take off

ponekad mislis da rubovi su
rubovi leta
ponekad mislis da rubovi su
rubovi pada
ali ne mozes znati
ako se ne otisnes

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Illiterate/Nepismeni

sometimes the illetrate are the best readers of hearts

ponekad su nepismeni najbolji citaci srca

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Identity Crisis/Kriza identiteta

Sometimes I am what I am not, so what?

Ponekad sam I ono sto nisam, pa sta?

©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yo!

Smo s'li v Osmico naroc'ili 8 pizz
ni bilo pizz smo rekli bomo pili kapuc'in
ni bilo niti kapuc'ina smo pili samo vino
Smo s'li v pizzerijo naroc'ili bakala
niso imeli bakalaja smo hoteli pomfri
ni bilo niti pomfrija smo jedli samo pizzo
Smo s'li v mesnico po batne obroc'ke
niso imeli obroc'kov smo hoteli baterijo
ni bilo biti baterije smo kupili jetrca
Smo s'li na banko da bi nas ostrigli
niso imeli niti s'karij samo c'eke in denar
smo vzeli nekaj denarja in s'li v zapor
ikoli vec' se ne bom ostrigel
nikoli vec' ne bom streljal krems'nit
nikoli vec' ne bom zajc'ek na zidu
nikoli vec' ne bom majhen in zelen

song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zdravo, Moje Ime Je Sara

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.

Ona hodaju nepostojecim ulicama
kojima gaze jos samo prividi staza.
Silaze u bunare
da u njima udave
proplivalu nadu za kraj.

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja bi htjela.
Ovo je vrat za vase ruke.
Dotaknite lagano.
Vezan je hiljadama lancica
koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.

Ona jedu halapljivo,
krugove u koje sazimam snove
dozvoljavam da dira.
Neka je.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ovo je kosa za moje pletenice.
U njima trake od srebra
i bisere sjajne sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam. Neka ih.

Prekrsila sam sva pravila.
Razbila klise,
zacarane krugove,
pocijepala stranice
na kojima mi ispisuju sudbinu.

Ja sam Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam.
Ja sam ona koja uvijek
samo pokusavam da budem.
Ja sam ona koja hoce.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ja sam uvijek,
vjecnoscu stegnuta
u sipljive trenutke. Ja sam nada
umrla za kraj.
Ja sam ona koja hoce da razumije.
Ja sam ona koja ne razumije uvijek.
Ali JESAM.

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pljuvam Skozi Okno

Pljuvam skozi okno in gledam kam pljunec leti
sonce zahaja nekje dalec' grmi vidim tvoj pogled kako v prazno brez
volje
lez'i
v dimu cigarete se tudi moj razmegli
Z'e tretji dan dez'uje in mene glava boli
si kdaj vidu kako kac'a trpi valja se v vroc'ini kjer je vedno lepo bilo
poletje brez vec'erov je kot belo zlato

song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ponekad - Sometimes

Ponekad su umjesto jutra
Kroz guste magle mudračkih kosa
Osvitale kiše
Kapci otvarali nova pitanja
I sasvim nova nedorečenost
Preturala po smislu

Ja hodah sama
Sred šumovitosti
Razgolićenih šaka
Zgrabio me svijet

Sometimes instead of the morning
There dawned the rains
Through the mists of the sages' hairs
The ezelids would open new questions
And an entirely new unuttereness
Roamed through the sense

I walked alone
Amidst the forests
With nakedf hands
Grabbed by the worlds

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paul Celan's Tenebrae

Here we are God
Within your blood
Opening gates
Chiseled in your image
An arche of creation
Swaying upon the edge of the earth
Our hands on the heart
Our eyes within the sky
An inch closer we are God
We grow like earth
Like hope
Beyond the horizon
Craving boughs
Deep root bitter growth
We grow
Like a firmament arch
Born in its fall
A side road oak
Killed in time

Ovdje smo Bože
U krvi tvojoj otvaranjem dvijeri
U liku tvom isklesani
Praslika posatanja
Što se na rubu yemlje njiše
S rukama na scru
Oč ima u nebu
Za pedalj smo Bože bliže
Rastemo ko temlja
Ko nada
Ko nad svodom razgranata težnja
Dubokog korijena gorak rast
Rastemo
Ko svod nebeski
Rođ en od pada
Kraj puta vremenom
Ubijeni hrast

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mogoce Me Ni

Nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Nisem se uc'il exat enga litra vina da bi mogu zaklepat z'epe vsakih 5
minut
mislit na denar bolj kot na lastno veselje in gledat face zdolgoc'asenih
kurb
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni ...
Jaz sem s'e bolj neobstojen od molekule ozona in c'e spijem eno pivo paf
se spremenim v kaviar
vedno imam pri sebi lasuljo od fantoma tarzanov dez'nik in majhno opico
ki pazi na denar
nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni

song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Napacen Planet

Hjuston vi hev a problem
Sem hotu povedat z'e v enem prejs'njem komadu da me je s'torklja
spustila
na napac'en planet
ampak c'udno gor al dol zdej sem pac' tukaj in ko sem lac'en moram nekaj
pojest
poklic'em znano tvrdko "halo mines'tra" in z'e zajemam sapo da bi kaj
naroc'il
a iz slus'alke ven zapiha najprej topel zrak in nizek z'enski glas tako
spregovori
To je napac'en planet
Me nic' ne zanima c'e si falu s'tevilko tukaj vroc'a linija toplarna
d.o.o.
potem je zac'ela blebetat v slus'alko ampak nisem vec' poslus'al ker
prevroc'e je bilo
kabel se je razstopil slus'alka se je vnela in soba je bla vroc'a kot
pekoc'i feferon
od moc'ne vroc'ine mi je frizura zogljjenela in z glavo polno dima sem
se
vrgu c'ez balkoon
To je napac'en planet
Sem teku v gostilno na dve veliki pivi samo bolni moz'gani bojo vedli
zakaj
ko sem pris'u nazaj so bli tam z'e gasilci raje kot da bi gasili so
postavljali mlaj
frajerji se grejo gasilsko veselico a vroc'ina leze iz his'e z roz'o v
laseh
kaj zdaj poslus'as' pesem al gledas' televizjo z'e vidim da bom mogu
refren
ponovit
To je napac'en planet napac'en planeet

song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is not my face/Ovo nije moje lice

This is not my face
This thing oozing out of your insipid reflection theories
When you're putting it into A is A A is B B is C

You know
C is maybe a newly born naked
Syllogism pointing at a tzar
So that you can ask him ask him
‘Tzar tzar oh master tell us what's the time'
And the tzar cannot hear you for he's got a goat's ears

This is not my face
This thing you're folding after you've ironed it
And placed it among the skirts trousers and shirts

You know
A shirt is perhaps a flag of my home
Put on a post to limit the borders of pain
So that you may ask it ask it
‘Does it hurt does it hurt tell us what's the time'
And the pain cannot hear you for its ears are cut

This is not my face
This thing you're turning to see it from each side
Whenever you turn it from A to B from B to C

You know
C is perhaps just a point without a face
Thrown into the universe
A monada looking for the Father

Why don't you take your reflections home

Ovo nije moje lice
To što curi iz bljutavih teorija odraza
Kada ga sklapate u A je A, A je B, B je C

Znate
C je možda ko od majke roden
Silogizam što upire prstom u cara
Pa ga pita pa ga pita
Care care o gospodare ko'ko ima sati
A car ne cuje jer ima kozje uši

Ovo nije moje lice
To što sklapate poslije peglanja
Medu suknje pantalone i košulje

Znate
Košulja je možda zastava moga doma
Na kolac nabijena da omedi bol
Da ga pitate da ga pitate
'Boli li boli li koliko je sati'
A bol ne cuje jer su mu odsjecene uši

Ovo nije moje lice
To što okrecete da se iz svih uglova vidi
Kadgod ga okrecete od A do B od B do C

Znate C je možda
Samo tacka bez lica
Bacena u svemir
Monada što traži Oca svog

Zašto ne nosite svoje odraze kuci

©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hello, my name is Sarah

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is not
Who never is
These are the hands for my embraces
Mutilated in emptiness
Husked in the rings at twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
They are writing a history of a plastic toy
Buried in the tombs of childhood
That never grew towards a cradle.

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is trying to be
These are the feet for my steps.
Frozen in the paths
Tied by tinkling jewelerry
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

They walk the streets that there are no more
The streets trodden by mere silhouettes of paths
They go down the wells
To strangle in them
A swimming hope for the end.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who wants.
This is the neck for your hands.
Slightly touch.
It's tied in thousands of necklaces
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

The darkness greedily eats
The circles I push the dreams into
I let it touch.
It's all right.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who does not consent.
This is the hair for my plaits.
The silver ribbons
And shiny pearls at twilight I take off
And throw it into the dark.
It's all right.

I have broken all the rules
I have broken cliches
Magic circles
I tore the pages
On which
They try to write my fate.

I am Sarah
I am the one who is not
I am the one who is always
Only trying to be
I am the one who wants
I am the one who does not consent
I am always eternity tied
In pouring moments
I am the hope died for the end
I am the one who wants to understand
I am the one who does not always understand
But I AM.

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.

Ona hodaju nepostojecim ulicama
kojima gaze jos samo prividi staza.
Silaze u bunare
da u njima udave
proplivalu nadu za kraj.

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja bi htjela.
Ovo je vrat za vase ruke.
Dotaknite lagano.
Vezan je hiljadama lancica
koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.

Ona jedu halapljivo,
krugove u koje sazimam snove
dozvoljavam da dira.
Neka je.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ovo je kosa za moje pletenice.
U njima trake od srebra
i bisere sjajne sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam. Neka ih.

Prekrsila sam sva pravila.
Razbila klise,
zacarane krugove,
pocijepala stranice
na kojima mi ispisuju sudbinu.

Ja sam Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam.
Ja sam ona koja uvijek
samo pokusavam da budem.
Ja sam ona koja hoce.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ja sam uvijek,
vjecnoscu stegnuta
u sipljive trenutke. Ja sam nada
umrla za kraj.
Ja sam ona koja hoce da razumije.
Ja sam ona koja ne razumije uvijek.
Ali JESAM.

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let me be today (Nafaka)

Tomorrow I will die
There’s still some time to go
Let go of me today
There’s a sky I’ve got to kiss
Tomorrow I will cry
Today I’ve got to seize the day
It’ll slip away into oblivion
Today I’ve got to step out of the circle
It’s not my time to leave
To drag the soul out of the shells

I want to know everything
But this is not the day to ask
Let go of me today
I need to be one with everything
I’ll part some other day
Let go of me one more day
It’s not my time yet
I’ll die another one

NEKA ME DANAS
umrijecu sutra
ima jos vremena
Pustite me danas
moram da poljubim nebo
plakacu sutra
danas treba da uhvatim dan
skliznuce u zaborav
Danas moram da izadjem iz kruga
nije mi jos vrijeme da odem
da izvucem dusu iz skoljki

Hocu sve da znam
ali nije dan da pitam
Neka me danas
treba da se stopim
rastacu se nekog drugog dana
Pustite me jos danas
nije mi jos vrijeme
umrijecu neki drugi put

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And that the thought was just another day/I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan

And that the thought was just another day
No one has said as yet
An unsaid one that cracks with the boughs
Still being dawned for a day to be
I knew for
The outbreak slippery among the fingers
Pours down the beads of sunbeams through the clouds
No one has said as yet
The sides of the world folded on a sheet of paper
An origami of unspreadedness
Unwritten hours sealed in emptiness
On the first geometry class where we will learn
We're perhaps a square with headless points
Marked ABCD
In an alphabet of beheaded words
No one has said as yet no one has dared
The distant counting of Euclid's vows
Xenon's accounts and Pythagoras' secrets
Hung around the neck of a bird
That due to gold of knowledge cannot fly
No one has shaped as yet
A mathematical axiom at the top part of an operational table
Edged by formulae algorhithms
By which Reason the mother of order
Protectively hides the chaos of the possible
We'll be silent about the tents
Under which we've hidden security particles
Precious dust of knowledge in the urn light we'll store
We'll be silent about the warm blankets of thoughts
Covering dreams in an early morning
The marbles of small deceptions the spherical many colouring
We could be stolen them all
And to stand like nothing facing the loveless world
Only Love can do
Who we've never been enough

I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan
Niko rekao nije
Nedorečen što s granjem puca
A za riječ osvanut znala sam jer
Svanuće klizavo medj prstima
Brojanice sunčevih zraka kroz oblake sipa
Niko nije rekao
Na listu papira presavijene stranice svijta
Origami neotklopljenosti
Neispisivanjem sati zapečaćen u prazno
Na prvom času geometrije gdje saznaćemo
Da možda smo samo naučen kvadrat obezglavljenih tjemena
Obilježenih ABVG
Azbukom odrubljene riječi
Niko nije rekao niko nije smio
Daleka prebrojavanja Euklidovih zavjeta
Zenonovih računa Pitagorinih tajni
O vrat ptice obješenih
Što od zlata znanja otežala ne može da leti
Niko nije oblikovao
Matematički aksiom na vrhu operacionog stola
Oivičen formulama algoritmima
Kojim Razum majka reda vješto prikriva
Haos mogućeg
Prećutaćemo šatore pod kojim
Skrili smo truni sigurnosti
Dragocjeni prah saznanja u urnu laku pohraniti
Prećutaćemo toplu ćebad misli
U rano jutro snom pokriveni
Klikere sitnih obmana male šarene sferičnosti
Sve bi mogli nam ukrasti
A stajati k'o ništa spram svijeta bez ljubavi
Može samo Ljubav
Koja nikad dovoljno nismo

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imati Ili Biti?

odlič ni video. kaj velite dal vam je dobra ova kineska sakralna arhitektura? i ovi ninje koji se bore iznutra?
Jeste li gledali ovaj film? : cerek: Prekrasan je, ako niste, obavezno pogledajte. Ja sam ga dvaput gledala.
Što se tič e ploč a i ja volim č uti pucketanje, ali u ovom vremenu trke i frke jedva imam vremena i za kompjutersko slušanje muzike. Ne mogu da nađ em iglu za moj gramofon.: tuzni:

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ti u svom uglu sam to znam

Na ramenu ti riječ i urezano sve
Loviš me mišlju brži si od svjetla
I zalud bježim jer pustiti ne mogu
Tebe da prodješ ko što prođ e dan
Tebe da prodješ da ne boliš sam
Ti što u tom uglu sam to znam
Č ekaš da prodjem ti sjenom od talasa
Na tren kada se sretnu dvije pjene
Ne osta ništa ni kapi od mene

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Matrix/Matrica

I have a knowledge of order that will not deny me
In the shaking fences of Maria denials
Conceived in rebellion ending in mercy

Because nothing has stood on the night assembly line
To be merely a morning awakening and a step halted
In time accounts self subtracted
Hours dripping self added
In the moment endlessly divided
And the moment endlessly multiplied
I'm removing the layers - Zenon-like, unmovable ones
A frozenness forever thrown into the ashes
Is looking for its countenance in vain

Because I know time is just a mask of a woman
With the face of the ploughed fields
And a pendulum X- ray discovered
Of her head grown within numbers

Because nothing can stand on a matrix
That reconciles statis and division ability
Without a thin layer of an apparent generation
Being thrown down the feet in the walk of her hours

Matrica

Ja poznajem poredak koji me nece poreci
U poljuljanim ogradama Marije poricanja
Pobunom zaceta milošcu zaceta

Jer još ništa nije stalo na pokretne trake noci
Da jutrom bi bilo tek budjenje i korak zaustavljen
U racunu vremena od sebe oduzetog
U kapljanju sati u sebi sabranom
U trenu beskrajno djeljivom
I trenu beskrajno umnoženom
Ja skidam slojeve zenonovski nepokretne
Ukocenost zauvijek bacena u pepeo
Uzalud traga za svojim likom

Jer znam vrijeme je maska žene
Sa licem uzoranih njiva
I klatnom otkrivenim na rendgen snimku
Njene glave urasle u brojeve

Jer na matrici koja miri statis i djeljivost
Ništa više ne može stati
A da se pri tom tanka skrama prividnog nastanka
Ne surva niz stope gazom njenih sati

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last night

Last night I asked the drop
what nobody had dared to ask before
I said
come on, isn't it time you washed my face
isn't it time you stopped falling in tears
isn't it time for me to drink you
isn't it time for you to touch me
isn't it time for me to see the world within you
come on, what are you waiting for
why don't you finally fall down
that was the rage of a dead chicken

Sinoc sam rekla kaplji
sto joj niko ranije nije smio reci
rekla sam
hajde, nije li vrijeme da me umijes
nije li vrijeme da suzom prestanes
nije li vrijeme da te popijem
nije li vrijeme da dotaknes
nije li vrijeme da u tebi sagledam svijet
hajde sta cekas
zasto vec jednom prosto ne kanes
bio je to bijes mrtvog pileta

Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quite Subsidiary / Sasvim Pritocno

diary pages i never wrote
due to some unknown individual intuition
a friend once explained to me
which i never really understood
they keep oozing in front of my eyes
a trailer from a movie long forgot
a midsummer's heat
pronounced at the tip of my tongue
that does not remember the language
but is ready to outriver the numbers
sliding down the covers
there's a painting perhaps
that i've never been up to
and i will never paint
a draft made of eyes and ears void
staring right at me from the broken sky
that knows each piece of its shatteredness
foretold by the mirror
i normally use to put lipstick only
or merely draft my eyes so as not to forget them
by the end of the day
and each time my fingers prolong into keyboards
there's a music played unheard humming oou of debris
the world would say it's time for itself to die
in the meaning of each word that's uttered about it
stubbornly defending its unutteredness
that always shakes me into an earthquake speech
and just like an earthquake i cannot stand still
there are too many cracks i made and need to fill

sascim pritocno
stranice dnevnika koje nikad nisam ispisala
zahvaljujuci jednoj individualnoj intuiciji
koju mi je prijatelj jednom objasnio
a nikad je nisam razumjela
cure mi pred ocima
trejler iz filma davno zaboravljenog
Jovanjdanja vrelina
izgovorena na vrhu jezika
koja je zaboravila jezik
ali je spremna da nadrijeci brojeve
što klize niz korice
postoji moždajedna slika
kojoj nikad nisam bila dorasla
koju nikad necu naslikati
slika napravljena od ociju i ušiju jaza
koja me posmatra pravo iz slomljenog neba
koje poznaje svaki komadic svoje polomljenosti
obrecene ogledalom
što ga obicno koristim samo da bih stavila ruž
ili skicirala svoje oci
da ih ne zaboravim do kraja dana
i svaki put kad mi se prsti izduže u klavijature
stvara se necujna muzika što pjevuši iz srce
svijet bi rekao da mu je vrijeme da umre
u znacenju svake rijeci koja je o njemu izrecena
uporno braneci svoju neizrecivost
koja me uvijek protrese u govor zemljotresa
i baš kao zemljotres ne mogu da stojim mirno
ima previše pukotina koje sam stvorila
a moram da ih popunim

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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San O Letu

da on je znao ko mu je tkao
ko mu je tkao carobni sag
on nikad ne bi ni njemu ni sebi
stopalom ljudskim sazido prag

da sunce je znalo sve tajne kobi
sve tajne jednog suncanog sata
reklo bi ne kupi mrve zivota
hajde razuzdaj krilatog ata

da on je htio sna biti dio
on ne bi pio s otrovom svijet
vjecno bi snio vjecno bi snio
da zauvujek bude sa pticom let

1994.

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!