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One
In two
Dialogue essence plays
Tragic tetrax piece played
Open curtains smile epilogue greets
Made-up actors’ masks outplayed life stands
Seven drops of wisdom one- in -two an answer
Jedan
U dvoma
Igra suštinu dijaloga
Tragič nim tetraksom odigran komad
Osmjeh raširenih zavjesa pozdravlja epilog
Maske našminkanih glumaca život nadigran stoji
Sedam kapi mudrosti jedan u dvoma odgovor
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
The Story Of Seven Sages-Prica O Sedam Mudraca
millions of breathings in an anxious breath
seven sages were given
seven drops of waiting
seven drops of hope
seven sages were given
three warm kisses
three gentle touches
seven sages were given
and one though only in endless admiration
Inexpressibility fingers sculptured life
mirijade disanja u tjeskobi daha
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
sedam kapi čekanja
sedam kapi nadanja
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
tri topla poljupca
tri meka dodira
sedmorici mudraca neko je dao
i samo jednu misao u beskraju divljenja
sedmorici mudraca neko je da
Život je izvajan prstima Neizrecivosti
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Little Life/Jedan Mali Zivot
a little life I write
under the fingertips
sharpening the rulers
opening the compasses
to draw on my own brow
universe geometry
jedan mali život
koji pod jagodicama ispisujem
oštrim lenjire
otvaram šestare
i na sopstvenom čelu ispisujem
geometriju svemira
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Gone/Nestao
gone for a single trace
a simple touch to reach an edge
gone for a single spell
a total truth sought within those eyes
the sages looked and could not bear
to take this weakness for the strong whole light
nestao za jedan trag
dodir prost da stigne do ruba
nestao za jedan izricaj
potpna istina trazena u onim ocima
mudraci su pogedali i nisu mogli podnijeti
da ovu slabost shvate kao snagu cjelovitog svjetla
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Identity and passion
He was not perturbed
When his son outplayed him.
She was not disturbed
When her lover outplayed her.
Ego stands not in the way
Of identity and passion.
03.09.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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This is my silence with the taste of ‘never’
A single plunge from the tip of the tongue
Into the clouds anxiety sponges
Burdened with water and wells too mute
Of elements void of translation
A single flame from the tip of the fingers
That once touched the hard locked heart
Within the heights all skies to burn
In elements void of translation
A single stone cast into a cradle
Rocks an embryo crying for a womb
Like a childless lap still eager to fly
In elements void of translation
A single breath signed by an ocean wind
That namelessly carves the gates of open cages
Wrestling with the forbidden language
In elements void of translation
This is my silence with the taste of ‘never’
I give it solely unto you
Ovo je moja tišina sa ukusom 'nikad'
Jedno poniranje sa vrha jezika
U oblake sundere tjeskobe
Pod teretom vode i bunara suviše nijemih
Pod elementima lišenim prevoda
Jedan plamen sa vrhova prstiju
Što jednom je dotakao teško zakljucano srce
U visini da spali sva neba
U elementima lišenim prevoda
Jedan kamen bacen u kolijevku
Ljulja embrion što place za utrobom
Kao krilo bez djeteta što ipak žudi za letom
U elemntima lišenim prevoda
Jedan dah potpisanim okeanskim vjetrom
Što bezimeno urezuje kapije otvorenih kaveza
Rvajuci se sa zabranjenim jezikom
U elemntima lišenim prevoda
Ovo je moja tišina sa ukusom 'nikad'
Dajem je samo tebi
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Essence
Life
Life is the expression of the desire of the soul to manifest and to share what it uniquely perceives and feels. Columbus's essence is deep in discovery
Buddha is the essence of wisdom, the triumph of wisdom
Christ is the essence of love, the essence of wisdom, the triumph of love, the triumph of Wisdom.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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How to interpret the distance between two smiles/Kako protumaciti razmak izmedju dva osmjeha
It should be interpreted as an attempt to reconcile a plus and a minus, black and white, the poor and the rich. Like tranquility between two joys in which the first one calls the second one using the bridge of the unsaid. Some people go so far as to interpret the distance between two smiles through tears, blood or simply an inexpressible sorrow. Some interpret it as a way to preserve both smiles. The length of a smile is of no importance. It does not make any difference whether a smile is 2mm or 2 light years long, there's always a space which can contain the possibility of coming closer or distancing. Smileness in each case is a precondition for any kind of approaching.
Or it may end up in a Pavlov's reflex that does not reflect anything. And what is a smile at all? There are different ways to determine this and each one of them slips any kind of definition.
Chronologically speaking a smile is a living time it takes to put the corners of our lips upwards to get in the first touch with the other being. According to its purpose it carries the burdens of goals just like bags full of hours spent in waiting for a smile from the other side of a bridge. A smile can be a means to an end, an instrument of compulsion that we sometimes use for practice in the morning after we've washed our face and brushed our teeth for it's time to get out, leave ourselves and devote time to the others that standing in front of their mirrors disinfect their own smileness.
It's something like a business smile which if we practice it to the point of perfection can make us rich.
A smile can carry anything from a living quiver of love to a complete frozenness. There are many things that can get frozen on our lips. The problem arises when it is us who gets frozen on them.
Treba tumaciti kao pokusaj izmirivanja plusa i minusa, crnog i bijelog, siromasnog i bogatog. Kao smiraj izmedju dvije radosti u kojoj prva doziva drugu mostom precutanog. Neki odlaze toliko daleko da razmak izmedju dva osmjeha tumace suzama, krvlju ili prosto neiskazljivom tugom. Neki kao pokusaj ocuvanja oba osmjeha.
Duzina razmaka pri tom ne igra nikakvu ulogu, svejedno dali su u pitanju dva milimetra ili dvije svetlosne godine razmaknutost ostaje prostor u koji staje mogucnost priblizavanja i udaljavanja. Osmjehnutost u svakom slucaju predstavlja uslov za bilo kakvo primicanje.
Ili se zavrsava kobnim Pavlovljevim refleksom koji ne reflektuje ama bas nista. I sta je uopste osmjeh. Postoje razliciti kriterijumi po kome moze da se odredi i svaki od njih sasvim sigurno izmice bilo kakvoj odredljivosti.
Po hronoloskom kriterijumu osmjeh predstavlja zivo vrijeme u kome se odvija laganim izvijanjem usana na gore prvi dodir sa drugim. U odnosu na svrhu on nosi terete cilja kao vrece pune sati u kojima zeljno iscekujemo osmjeh sa druge strane mosta. Osmjeh je sredstvao, instrument prinude koji ponekad poslovno uvjezbavamo izjutra ispred ogledala nakon umivanja i pranja zuba jer je kada izadjemo vrijeme da napustimo sebe i posvetimo se drugom koji takodje tu ispred ogledala dezinfikuje sopstvenu osmjehnutost.
To je nesto kao business smile koji ako se dotjera do savrsenstva moze donijeti veliko bogatstvo. Jedan osmjeh moze da nosi sve, ama bas sve od zivog treptaja ljubavi do potpune ukocenosti. Postoji veliki broj stvari koji moze da se zaledi na nasim usnama. Problem nastaje kada se na sopstvenim usnama jednom ukocimo mi sami.
A Little School of Interpretation, …in x lessons,2007.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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One moment/Jedan trenutak
can be a short story prolonged into thousands of pieces
tis is how some novels have been written
jedan trenutak moze biti kratka prica produzena u hiljade komada
tako se pisu neki romani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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How to interpret games/Kako protumaciti igre
For the beginning it would be helpful to remember your childhood. The game is one of the hardest concepts and it requires the classification through the use of a chronological criterion. The games of childhood are a path towards theorizing the world. They sometimes imitate life without an authentic understanding of it, even without the need or wish to understand.
Playing tag for instance is a way to reach the other person using the advantages of the touch therapy.
Ring a ring a roses belongs to the same category except for the fact that this is the game in which you need to turn around a lot. Some people turn so a lot that they get into a trance which only the hide and seek can wafe them from. Speaking of hide and seek you can play it only if you have no problem with your eyesight and if you know how to count at least to…ten. You also need an elementary knowledge of your environment so that the others don't have to look for you in various corners where you can be detained with or without kneeling on corn. (Kneeling on corn is the game of the transition period)
The game of growing up is red gloves. Sometimes the gloves are so red that you may end up being blood transfused. The most interesting thing is that even if you know who hit you the pain does not decrease. Time, the most important factor in the development of games, can be helpful in increasing the pain tolerance degree. A comforting fact is that the only constant thing in the whole game is the colour of the gloves.
The game of the mature period is mother and father. Genetics plays the crucial role here. A continual jigsaw between dna and rna counting of chromosomes like marbles will distract your attention from the essence of this game.
The game of getting old is silent swinging alongside brain cells dying out. In this period you have already managed to cope with all the aforementioned games and now you can finally take your time.
The game of dying is a fairy tale being red before a good night's sleep and a dream in which you're swayed by someone's warm and calm voice. For in the end all you are craving is silence.
Za pocetak bi bilo dobro da se sjetite djetinjstva. To uvijek pomaze. Ovo je inace jedan od najtezih pojmova i zahtjeva klasifikovanje istog koristeci hronoloski kriterijum. Igre djetinjstva put su ka sagledavanju svijeta. One imitiraju zivot bez istinskog razumijevanja istog, a i bez potrebe i zelje za razumijevanjem. Suga je nacin da stignete do drugog koristeci prednosti touch terapije.
U istu kategoriju spada i ringe ringe raja s tim sto vam odzvoni jos prije nego sto ostarite jer je to igra u kojoj puno morate da se vrtite. Neki od nje prosto padaju u trans iz koga ih moze probuditi samo igra zmurke. Zmurke mozete da se igrate samo ukoliko nemate poteskoca sa vidom i ukoliko znate da brojite... makar do deset. Potrebno je i elementarno poznavanje okoline da ne bi na kraju morali i vas da traze po raznim coskovima u koje vas za kaznu stavljaju sa ili bez klecanja na kukuruzu.
(Klecanje na kukuruzu je igra prelaznog perioda) Potrebno je takodje da se unaprijed pomirite sa cinjenicom da nemate pojma koga u stvari trazite. Nije vazno. Cilj uvijek mozete da izmislite. Jer uvijek ce do kraja ostati nerazjasnjeno da li je krajnja svrha igranja postizanje uspjeha ili je igra samoj sebi cilj.
Igra odrastanja je igra crvenih rukavica. Nekad toliko crvenih da zavrsite na transfuziji krvi. Najzanimljivije je to sto i ako pogodite ko vas je zviznuo to ne umanjuje bol. Vrijeme koje je najvazniji faktor u razvoju igara moze vam biti od pomoci da povisite stepen tolerancije na bol. Utjesno je sto u svakom trenutku znate kada i gdje su vas udarili kao i to da je jedina postojana stvar u cijeloj igri boja rukavica.
Igra zrelog doba je igra mame i tate. Genetika je ovdje od presudnog znacaja. Kontinuirano klackanje izmedju RNK i DNK, prebrojavanje hromozoma kao klikera odvratice vam paznju sa sustine igre.
Igra starenja je tiho ljuljanje od kojeg odumiru mozdane vijuge. U ovom periodu vec ste savladili sve prethodno navedene igre i sada mozete da se mirno prepustite uzivanju.
Igra umiranja je citanje bajke pred spavanje i san u koji vas uljuljkuje neciji topao i smiren glas. Jer na kraju svega vapite samo za tisinom.
A Little School of Interpretation, …in x lessons,2007.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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None
Life is the expression of the desire of the soul to manifest and to share what it uniquely perceives and feels. Columbus's essence is deep in discovery
Buddha is the essence of wisdom, the triumph of wisdom
Christ is the essence of love, the essence of wisdom, the triumph of love, the triumph of love.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My past and future self
It has to be; one day, perhaps,
we’ll know the wisdom absolute of this;
and yet, and yet... I’m just a little sad,
not to meet my self in previous embodiment
and say, thanks for the baton that you passed
in this relay race of self to self
through millions of forms of life, they say;
you played your part; worked through your destiny,
gave cradle-gifts; withheld some too,
to test me further on the path of life;
I hope you’ll look upon me as your godly son;
smile; say, yes, he’s made good use of life..
And I’m a little sad, as well,
not to meet my self in next embodiment;
and say, here’s wishing you the very best;
sorry, that I could not give you more…
but this; and this; I hope you find these good,
and helpful; happy; take this love, this joy,
this hope, this trust; this baton’s made of gold;
grasp it firmly; run a goodly race;
we’ll watch you proudly from the stands;
smile; say, he’s trained well for this life..
And now, this said, it matters, and it matters not;
as present melds into eternity.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My peace in restlessness-Moj mir u nemiru
mercy thirst
of an eye watching
the change of its passion
the pages are tearing the meaning apart
there's a verse pushed afar
in a grain of silence
it's being born the way I am
always young and silent
moj mir u nemiru
žedj za pomilovanjem
oka što smotri
mijenu svoje strasti
stranice trgaju smisao
u zrnu je cutnje skrajnut jedan stih
radja se k'o i ja
uvijek mlad i tih
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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…da Tek Si Pjesnik
Spram riječi nag
Proljeća vjesnik
Spram stope trag
Zeleno sliven u jedan stih
Da jesen zna ljubav ti bih
Što grli grumen
Zemljani prah
Kroz sunčan rumen
Vrelog ljeta dah
Da diše promrzle usnule zime
I nikad ne takne od leda ti ime
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Whatshisname
An actor always plays a part.
He has no personality.
It is the essence of his art
an actor’s capability
To become anyone at all.
Whoever they’re supposed to be
at least until the curtains fall
Revert to being nobody.
Their whole life is a fantasy.
They don’t know who they really are.
They can cope with reality
but only so much: Insofar
as I can see, because they can
act like any other man.
12/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Svemir
za samo jedan korak ustuknuo je dan
i pred njim
prevelik da bi bio nijem nemir
i pred njim
prastara da bi ćutala tišina
i pred njom
preuzan za prostore san
i pred njim
suviše procvala za buđenje tmina
i pred njom
beskrajan svemir
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Kroz duplje svemira
Progledana svitanjem
Misao beskraja tutnji
U srcu stoji žena sa kosom
U srcu stoji žena i njena smrt
Na ivici leptira
S nožem ko s pitanjem
Sa rezom u ćutnji
Cvijetom stiče smrt
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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It made me alive to the fact that the most important thing sometimes is what isn't said - to prepare for moments of revelation that can be read entirely on actors' faces without dialogue.
quote by Robert Towne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pinball Wizard
(pete townshend)
[tommy (1914-1984), various artists, 1972]
Ever since I was a young boy,
I played the silver ball;
From soho down to brighton
I must have played em all.
But I aint seen nothin like him
In any amusement hall
That deaf, dumb an blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball.
He stands like a statue,
Becomes part of the machine.
Feelin all the bumpers
Always playin clean.
Plays by intuition,
The digit counters fall.
That deaf, dumb an blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball!
Hes a pinball wizard
There has to be a twist,
A pinball wizard,
Got such a supple wrist.
How do you think he does it?
What makes him so good?
Aint got no distractions,
Cant hear those buzzes and bells,
Dont see lights aflashin
Plays by sense of smell.
Always gets a replay,
Never tilts at all
That deaf, dumb an blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball.
Even my usual table,
He can beat my best,
His disciples lead him in
And he just does the rest.
Hes got crazy flipper fingers,
Never seen him fall.
That deaf, dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball.
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Measurements
Epilogue,
Literature,
Dialogue,
Quality,
Size,
Quantity,
Measurements! !
Like unleavened wafers in the land of your muse,
But the raiding bands were seen at last.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Where I have ceased/Tamo gdje sam stala
Where I have ceased the morning will move on
I'll recognise the down by the drops of rain
I want to watch the sun as if it were the first time
I want to watch the sky as if it were the last
Where I have ceased the waters will move away
The thought of a dropp will be burnt in endlessness
There will remain a misty memery dewed
Of drinking to the bottom
Where I ceased the life will move on
The roads will be remembered from the fountain prime
I'll write the paths in hundeds of ways
At the bottom of my own eyes
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice jutro
Po kišnim kapima prepoznacu svitanje
Hocu da gledam sunce kao da je prvi put
Hocu da gledam nebo kao da je posljednji
Tamo gdje sam stala ugasice se voda
Spržice se misao kapi u beskraju
Ostace maglovito zorom orošeno sjecanje
Na ispijanje do dna
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice život
Sa iskonskog vrela pamtice se putevi
Na sto nacina ispisacu staze
Na dnu sopstvenih ociju
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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