Among the ropes of lie
A silent actor standing
Naked between the acts
Dragged out of a pack of cards
To deliver the paper speech
To raise his glass and toast
To nothing behind the curtain's outreach
And a playwright anonymous
With the hand on his forehead
Wondering about the rules of writing
The part of the text secretly overheard
But never whispered to the main and side roles
And a beautiful child playing by his side
Completely lost in translation
His future killed by error corrections
I wonder how long an acrobat world can sway
Among the ropes of its own lie
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There's A Thing Of Blue
that lives apart
no touch can bruise
its holiness heart
it's thought of in heaven
a beautiful sight
when lines break even
odds end up in scratches
the lightning on the palm
that each freedom matches
finds its purpose calm
beautiful hand outreach
and a soft voice a final speech
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There was an outplayed monstrument
Cornered distuned 2D clutched
Down the deep deep ground
Almost cliched in the music playing
Little flags waving
Election time deceptions
Error based stuckselect
As the Instro cried
Nobody pays for my play
Nobody plays for my pay
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sign the wheel across the paths
What do you do with a tag cloud
Or with a wordle puzzle of signs
Pick up the biggest or search aside
To the minutest letter of a stolen sense?
And then you think it is in it is
And then you think it’s not in it’s not
Jig the saw there it is no more
Thus we do with life with death
Both side road posts turn the walk to what
Shielding focusing signing wheels
Across live leave traces of the future paths
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Hail Macbeth
Hail Macbeth I’m in your field
To deliver the messages of the witches set free
The Lady is strong she will not yield
Unless she is placed in a ‘not to be’
Hail Macbeth the golden eyes are shifting
Remember the earth belongs to me
Hail Macbeth the bullets are sifting
The blue that unlike you can clearly see
Hail Macbeth get out of your text
Before it’s too late for you may be the next
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A stratum thought
A stratum thought to a single mind
Bestowed below u sunshine beam
A gliding endless down the streams
Of light-there with you I dined
I could never forget the feast
The craving and the heart
Beating below again to rise
You told me I was my own queen
In a pack of cards a cardboard star
I told you I was a star never seen
By a horseman hooved to ride so far
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Nothing to declare
we need passports id-s and an
unrepeatable unique crucial numbers of a citizen
we look at those photographs with weary visa faces
that reflect a tiresome long standing in a queue
why can't we sit
we need hands palms a pointer sealed in an
unrepeatable unique crucial print of a citizen
why can't we make a handshake
we need this for the sake of neat info organization
so as not to be lost so as to be easily found
why is no one looking for us
we need health cards credit cards phone cards
business cards membership cards
why can't we discard them
we need birth school pre post BA MA PHD certificates
why can't we really sign them
we need a luggage a lift a transport a life
why can't we travel
why do we have
nothing to declare
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My beloved spouse describes her strange dream
We were in the Kodak Theater in the days before the show.
By the time night arrived.
And it's a rehearsal.
They called the best picture; ' The old naked starving man with a red beard from another planet.'
Moments after you were named for the best actor in the same movie.
After receiving the Oscar you came to me and kissed my forehead.
I whispered that I am conceived and this time must be a boy.
Then you collapsed with the award.
I woke up and found the best actor lying on the floor beside our rickety bed after the nightcap.
* To all the poor actors and actresses those who perform great roles in the life-drama for nothing?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If I am the dropp the morning conceived
Let me be that water oh beautiful
That comes to your lip and makes you heart speak
That leaks through its holes into the world
Where the world is but a place to be
Next to your smile and close to your hand
Hugging the edges of dawn
Hear me there say the moment will rise
To time void of flow and eyes void of tears
In memory blue at the door of paradise
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Carry me
the whirl spinned leaf
the sandclocked glass
the short breath brief
and the rhythm blast
the stormed healed tongue
the winged splash of a bird
the song heard unsung
and the word whispered unheard
the passion burned unforgotten
the beauty spoken miracle touch
give it all to 'the only begotten'
Son of Earth you gave me too much
Copyright circle Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Lost And Found
You know the question, find the answer
Stirring deep within your mind
Don't Have to Promise, You have a reason
For what it is you need to find
I was searching, until I found it
And I saw it in you
It seems so real, but I can feel me
Getting closer to you
If clocks could stop, time wouldn't waste
And I could tell you once more
That we are running, without eachother
There's not much to live for
I tried to find, the side you hide,
The side that pushes me away,
You're standing close so, I can tell you
That I wish you would stay
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
As days go by, you're fading faster
Looking for something new
It's hard to notice, you're looking past me
When I'm right within your view
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
It's been a bumpy road
I'll try to carry your load
I'll try to understand
Your fate is in your hands
If you could see my side
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
We were lost and now we're found
song performed by by 1208
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where You Laughed I Cried
Where you laughed I cried
Where you lived I died
What you confirmed I denied
And all the words merely froze
To utter no sound nothing to disclose
It was me against you
Facing the wall of ‘I-owe-you'
But was there anything more to give
Was there anything more to receive
An Act stood open unfinished
The drama of a king and queen banished
And a tired playwright
Putting his pencil down
Merely lost in paper night
All he left was this wretched poem crown
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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One day
Which opens thus
In a cliché of every day
Originating in a badly done homework
The writing of a day starts with sharpened pencils
In an attempt of an account stylistically tasteless
For a day could not break on through
To the parks and Sunday picnics
It frowned at the text with colourless faces
‘neath whose skin the whole drama of a day
Strikes open eyes with total indifference
To the stressful automobile rides
Through the city bridges
Hanged shortly before the elections
Under the text of pontoon despair
Over the river of unwritten anxiety
To the games in concrete stories
Tag hopscotch hide and seek
At the bottom of squatted childhoods
One day you will write
And nothing will say
Nothing will be able to utter
The closing of a day
Without a title or a ‘done on’ date
Nothing but a red ink
To correct your spelling mistakes
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There Is Otherside Also
A child got possession of a paper,
Was Very important for his father.
The child was totally unknown,
While playing with paper he torn.
Father became very disappointed,
Assemble it! to child he pointed.
The child gathered all the pieces
Put together and joined the pieces.
So simple! how did you do son?
It had very essential information,
I would have to bear heavy cost
If this vital information was lost.
It was very simple, the child told;
Matched numbers on it and hold.
Other side some numbers printed
To match the pieces, they hinted.
Thing looking difficult may be easy,
A challenge may be tackled simply.
While finding the solution look into
The other side of the problem too.
(c) S.D. Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Whatever Happened To Pong?
My brother and me used to play it
Down at the bar
Taking money from guys
More used to the playing of cards
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now virtually everyones singing
A popular song
But I still believe in
In the excellent joy of the pong
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
To the paddle the paddle the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now if they take it h.g. wells
Well, Ill be on the first flight
To a time before the kong
Whatever happended to pong?
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men/Muskarci
Men are like mine field I get killed each time.
Muskarci su kao minsko polje svaki put poginem.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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When a little girl saw Rodin's Thinker
she got quite worried about it
asked so many questions
why does he keep his hand on his forehead
will he ever be able to remove it from there
how will he walk with that hand on the forehead
does he have a temperature
why has Rodin done this to him
who is Rodin when will he sculpt again
and what are they both thinking about
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Unheard
you can hear but a millionth part
of what the edges are silent about
no matter how many ears you lend
to the sound of rains
or the wind that I could never spell
or the waves I was crashed in
or a thunder that once spoke to me
about the lightening beauty encoded
in the palm of a human hand
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Tell me how you step into your name
In a silent change of paths
That always leave your steps on a threshold
In the lockedness of name
Easily like a deer
Taming a world within his horns
Painfully like a bee leaving the sting
To its foe
Who flies away to die alone
And which is even more important
With whose name on you lips
Will you step out of your naming
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There's A Sunset That's Made Only For The Glass Hour
some sundials that dropp silent secs of time
no shade in between standing too close to the past
it blooms like flowers never seen by eyes
it whispers like rains your hands have never touched
there's just a hint of the dusk in an unheard breaking
of window panes that stood closed for too long
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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He comes
He comes in the morning
With the eyes that tell me I love them
With the eyes glimmering in a beautiful mind
And he's always silent and I just want to hug him
He comes he leaves
He comes at noon
When all work stops and everyone is at the table
When everyone is together and he only is alone
And he says nothing and I just want to kiss him
He comes he leaves
He comes at twilight
In his hands carrying the burdens of a gifted day
With the hands calming down each touch
He's always silent and I just want to say something
He comes he leaves
He comes at midnight
When in each dream everyone's the same cradle
When everyone's asleep and he's swaying them
And he says nothing and I just want him to stay
He comes he leaves
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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