Tis a highly descriptive task
to write your lips as they bite the glass
rims standing even and the drink it's been
made of sweet and bitter
rivers lakes and oceans
spilling drops of blue
to dwell on your eyelashes
eyes closed quiver fear
to stand on the fingertips
and to read the lines
broken palms of hands
geometry divinity
grasped in human kind
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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About a poem
You filled the glasses
Words into glasses glass made drops
Golden pots for a thunder-like
‘Drink’ of big silences
You filled the glasses
On the tables across the earth
Meanings laid walking on debris
You filled the glasses
Like hours into a sandclock
The sand upon which
You write up the names
Glass made drops
You write up the scars of a sip
Drunk you plough and keep ploughing
Over the dreams you spill
©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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The Trees Know The Heart Of The Breeze
When gently touched in hugs of air
The sounds know the voice of the call
Addressed in a silent whisper of ease
Of relief deliverance from life in despair
Of irreplaceable love for each for all
This is why they sway in cradles of morns
This wind soothing cries of so many lips
Loved by the life that high above adorns
Open hands and light on the fingertips
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Picaro
Picaro signed its breath across the lines
Ash earthen fallen hurdles into dust
A sigh sign blown into whirls of time
Read off the palm read off the palm
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Picaro grew smaller and smaller
The hurdles grew taller and taller
Satyros tragos peeled off his skin
Piled up reality up to his chin
Now swim through the dim
Oceans of blue heart
Butterfly style make it an art
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The star Bethlehem born
The stardust spreading the beautiful night
The star Bethlehem being most sublime
Is being shot again and again
Broken hearted crosses we cross
Broken hearted crosses we count
Like beads of starry nights
Asleep unawake still crossing
The rivers of the first step stone
You think you could have died of shame
(The last line inspired by Franz Kafka 'Process')
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You in your closed bleeding hands
The palm that closes
Cannot hold anything
Just like this narrow mind
Unable to grapple with
What is newly given
I see your fingers are closed
I tried to tickle you so they may open
I tried to tell you something puzzling
You closed your fingers some more
What is it that you are hiding there?
It is causing you so much pain
Your hands bleed, please open them
Is it the nail? Is it a broken glass?
You are not nodding still
Is it something so important?
That even with death you still refuse?
You are not nodding still
You shake your head, you keep mum
And numb to what I am asking
So be it, close your fingers
Hide the lines in your palms
Let your hands bleed some more
We shall wait what happens next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nothing To Fear
What freezes love in your eyes
What steals the force from your life
What holds us ransom tonight
What stops you seeing yourself?
Only fear can stand
On potentials hands
This is the greatest day of your life
If you make it
And the old spells you know
They can be broken
Nothing to fear
Nothing to fear
The greatest faults can be beaten
The grandest problems defeated
Impossible choices completed
Infinite pain will be treated
Only fear can stand
On potentials hands
This is the greatest day of your life
And we made it
And the old spells you know
cause they can be broken
Nothing to fear
Nothing to fear
This is the greatest day of your life
And weve made it
Break the old spells
Oh, let them be broken
Nothing to fear
No, nothing to fear
This is the greatest day
Break the old spells and throw them away
Break the old spells
Dont yknow they can be broken
No, nothing to fear
Nothing to fear
Nothing to fear
Nothing to fear
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Where we sometimes are
is not even a standpoint at all
measured by corners or central spots
is not even under-standing
hypostasically gauging the unmeasurable
where we sometimes stand can be
a simple within-standing
a place of awe
caught at the rims of a moment
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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All Those Things Solely Defied
interpretation upon such a vague sight
the edges of hearing the rims of taste
a tango lost in passions soul lonely dance
bitter sweet moved towards the light
Rubicon crossed in a single rock to waste
both words and silence soul lonely trance
to write a poem all made of past
to make any crossing eternity last
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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An Immigrant Here!
i am an immigrant here,
i claim no nation,
choose no side...
but this earth is my home,
formed from it's dirt,
it's bottomless oceans...
my friends are trees,
mountains, and rivers...
the long grasses my beard,
the great plains my soul.
i am the birthing of spring,
the death of the snow...
i am an immigrant here,
many colors, all human.
i am the hunted, and the hunter,
i am the pounding of waves
held in the tiniest shell.
i am wind, fire, and darkness...
i am an immigrant here,
i am the plow of the man,
the valley of the woman.
i am the roar of the cities,
the hush of the forests...
i am the water spilling o'er the dam!
i am an immigrant here,
illegal only to those who fear!
the river i crossed,
i will cross again!
my only map the lines
in an old man's hands!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dear Diary-Dragi Dnevnič e
I cannot write, zour paper is too innocently white.
Ne mogu da pišem, papir ti je isuviše nevino bijel.
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Sea Blue
In Gods image there is you.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
With eyes so bright and made of blue.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
You made my world safe while you were here.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
You gave me love and showed me understanding.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
And when you died it broke my heart.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
I'll never forget those precious moments.
All while standing in a sea of blue.
poem by Kim Blahut
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Hands In Desire
Hands in desire
Have swum through the mires
Handprints just building the wall
Face broken mask
Now speaks through the dusks
‘You will be your own fall’
Heart in despair
You’ll no longer be there
Footprints are closing the hall
Crossed by the vast sky
The roads stand still split
Like the heart that still beats scarlet
Just as the root is
Fed on the soil dear
Delusion I am fed on you
I’ll try to move on
Equally torn though
Born in your heart’s memory
I’ll try to move on
Cling to the beams so
Perhaps the days will come to me
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Never meant to
Never meant to
Call the twilight though I knew the beams
Peaceful soothing lulling asleep
Amidst the broken daylight's hands
When I saw Time was slipping away
I knew the lines will raise no heart
But I kept edging them to please the sunset
To make it reach that side of hill
Where sunsets never die
Where rays in love with day dimmed edges
Write down sharp visions of the fading lights
Never meant to
Call the midnights into my room
Even though I knew
When it's pitch silence the darkness surrenders
To the shimmering starlight out of the windows
Now lit with many a candle light
Never meant to but the minutes were shining
Against their clock hands and everything stopped
To rise to a new beginning
Never meant to
Call the lakes into the moonspeech
With a liquid language of waters forgotten
Balms of eternal oblivion listed
In all the names of all the hearts
Beating the words and sorrows away
Never meant to
But the tongue of mine tasted
First drops of silver
And I drank unaware wrapped in their bliss
The words might die but I'll never forget
No one can blame that on me
©Miroslava Odalovic
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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Dance Away
Theres a hidden meaning in everything he says, every close encounter, every kiss, every caress. even the truth has got that bitter taste of a lie. well, I can read his lips but I cant read his
.
I can see him dance away now oh oh - oh oh oh.
He was one of the kind that seems so hard to find. theres a change of weather, now he leaves me far behind. that I dont matter to him came as such a surprise. well, I can read his lips, I thou
Read his eyes.
And I can see him...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trinckle, Drops
TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving!
O drops of me! trickle, slow drops,
Candid, from me falling--drip, bleeding drops,
From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd,
From my face--from my forehead and lips,
From my breast--from within where I was conceal'd--press forth, red
drops--confession drops;
Stain every page--stain every song I sing, every word I say, bloody
drops;
Let them know your scarlet heat--let them glisten;
Saturate them with yourself, all ashamed and wet;
Glow upon all I have written, or shall write, bleeding drops; 10
Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.
poem by Walt Whitman
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To The Other World
try standing naked by this mirror
see yourself to every detail
look closer to your eyes
count the waves of your eyelashes
open your mouth and see how many teeth you have
all white, pure white lining up on your pink gums
feel your lips with your fingertips
feel the pulp the flesh of the lower lip
to the upper lip
touch your hair
do not imagine them all black
closely they are not at all
move a little bit closer and see your body
this beautiful human body
flesh, contours, curves, some muscles
the whole of your skin wrapping
everything in your body holding them all
nothing falls, on this erect body, this
god before you, standing steel-like with dignity
in front of the mirror
do not claim you have seen your soul with your eyes
do not lie
be honest to yourself now,
alone, you are alone, do not imagine
any god, any soul, any spirit,
just be honest,
touch your body with your hands
feel the joy of having this body
your body, pinch a part of it to feel
not pain, but just to feel that you are alive,
do you ever ask what made these parts stay as one?
look again at the mirror of this stature
your body, it is you, touching your body
take a hammer, and destroy the mirror
shatter everything to pieces
this is the world without a mirror
there is nothing to reflect you now
nothing to imagine, it is you, the real you
do you ever ask now, where is that other world?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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