My cellars were closed
The doors shut wept
No name on
My secret kept
Seep below a frozen ground
Stood silent like lips
Making no sound
©Miroslava Odalovic
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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Oneness
In thousands of tongues the same song is sung
The same nest's a flight in sky to be done
Place them up and down between and among
Multitude of voices singing only one
In thousands of thoughts silent thinking climbes
Up the throne of possible to the throne of peace
Soul language circles body's silent mimes
Poem- body movement that will never cease
It's made in secret flesh burned in passion tides
It's sung on sacred lips clinging to the flames
The multitude tucked on perfect oneness hides
Divine revelation the Name of all the names
2010.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Hounds of hurts and sounds of silence
Blind blood bound in blasts and bursts
Hundred a hound hunts in hidden hurts
The lip bloom slips the snow's slope embedded
Wept in white whispers time wound and wedded
A hello to hollows is holiness still heard
Beating in the blasts burning in the blood
Shimmering ashes by silent shores ensured
Foes to frightful fight of feverish floods
Ashes wash the wounds wipe away the weeds
By a sky-lark melody down the lily lakes
The sweetest singing in silence sewed seeds
A sewer-seer's secret this melody makes
2010.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A sonnet for a Valentine
Now let’s take this lie make it you and I
A single sonnet in stripes of zebra hides
That ride the waves of black and white tides
Take bits of word bullets for a love to die
In black and white you’re a Poison Walker
And from your lips some lethal potion
Ruined back in time all the devotion
Made you speechless frozen full time stalker
Still neither the days nor the nights can drink
Dangerous drops from your lips unspoken
Stains of justice against the love token
Neither the dark nor the lights can think
Fare thee well my number do not dial
I bid you farewell in an anti-chronic style
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Love, dyes and butterflies
my sisters stood in light
my brothers ate in peace
ancestors' paths descendants' plight
all merged into a single piece
of stream let music throbbing in my veins
of storms killing ores in iron fields of rust
of horizons split fire lit coloured that craved
a soothing sound a mother fertile ground
where each earthquake thrundered at oblivion rains
to name the nameless pain the pain that named
love, dyes and butterflies born of cry and praise
spreading their wings still making no sound
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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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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A light born torch
In a single heart
My pen eating blue
A paper paling white
The means of all the skin
In the hear dying its ends
And eyes closing down
Make not a single sound
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Those things all left to nameless die
My body embraced in a single stone
Touching the surface of a plunge deep sky
To die there hard faceless alone
I wish I could have gone
Merged with shadows down
Die there with you stone
Bought by precious ground
But I had to live
And with all the nameless leave
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Start the flight
Dwell within a broken bread
Warm and fragrant among your fingers
The sound of its crust cracking
Give the winged crumbs to the birds
Feed the world with yourself
Bitten by the hunger of the sky
Eaten by the restlessness of the body
Start the flight
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My House Was Not There
when the walls came down
and it was someone else for whom
the wind in windmills moved
and when the cyclone grew beyond the waters
to suck in deep within those maddened drops
my house had already been ruined in my heart
my doors had already been shut
my windows had already been closed
they opened in the sky
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A frozen statis got nothing to prove
And now I bet the stat has met
A certain circumstatic set
A frozen day cannot move
A frozen statis got nothing to prove
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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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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I'm a temptress
I tempt tempests into my arms
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened air I sing
Otherwise it'll blow up
I tempt tempo piano presto
The tip of my tongue hissing at tones
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened sound I sing
Otherwise
The earth would be silent and empty
I tempt tempera into the colours
The paint now dripping sprinkles the walls
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened stones I sing
Otherwise
Nothing would be built
2010.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Words fed on dust
There are some words
Fed on the dust
Ash fallen sound
Reaching deep cries
The noise of which hurts
Though thrown away cast
Down to the ground
Undead it’ll rise
In winds and storms
Rain cradle of tears
When no heart warms
Lost forgotten years
The time of their birth
Dark swallowed patches
And the silent dirge
That no music matches
Placed on a hearth
They’ll burn and surge
Like candles broken
Melting in wax
A candle token
Of the soul that aches
Forever and ever abreast
Of an unleashed why of a quest
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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When eyes torn closed
When eyes torn closed what eyes had seen
There was no whisper in the silent net
Sealed deep below in places of spleen
Eyes torn closed what hands had set
Some sights have died died of the threat
That sights too many words have spelled
Some sights have drowned in a single fret
That they for too long in this world have dwelled
They were made of tears wind wept storms and sighs
They were made of colours blue cut through the skies
They were made of trees uprooted as to sing
The remnants of the earth of not a single thing
That heaven ward could sorrow crowns upbring
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Ricochet
I stood all the doorways
Shipwrecked by the night
Stardust named my bits
And the myths did not know
Whether it was the bullets or the heart
No staircase no upper floor
I sun burst bruised each step
Said all the poems written long ago
Were they just whispers words fallen apart
Air ate mist
Mist ate my breath
Nowhere could I go
Bounced back by darts
Ricochet
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Whose footsteps/ Č iji koraci
Half starringly in the Moon halved die out
Like slaves between
A bitten silver coin and broken teeth
Spelling a silent whisper
b-r-e-a-d master
the games are over all of them
Č iji koraci
Poluzvjezdano okrunjenim Mjesecom odumiru
Ko roblje što izmeđ u
Izjedenog srebrnjaka i polomljenih zuba
Tiho šapatom srič e
H-lj-e-b-a gospodaru
Igre su gotove sve
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Why Can't I Come From The Bay Of The Mouth
most ignorantly I ask
it's a wonderful bay and it's got a lot to say
and you don't even have to put it big letters
the sardines almost extinct would not mind
and even if they did
they would be silent about that
yes, I come from the bay of the mouth
I openly say and if it's a crime
one should say it aloud
or keep their mouth shut
and do nothing about my place of origin
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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