Who's that reaping/Ko to zanje
Who's that reaping
Who's that reaping
The fields of white
The silent boughs
Who is touching alone
That snail without house
It came to dwell
A nakedness squatted
Under heavy eyebrows
ko to žanje
ko to žanje
bijele njive
tiho granje
ko dotice sam
taj puž bez kucice
dode da stanuje
ispod tecih vijeda
savijeni golac
1993.
©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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You carry your heart-Ti srce nosiš
you carry your heart under your coat
for no one wants it there
you carry your soul deep beneath
like an old dusty music box
which has been opened once only
ti srce nosiš ispod kaputa
jer tamo ga neće niko
ti dušu nosiš duboko ispod
kao prašnjavu staru
samo jednom otvorenu muzičku kutiju
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A wish
I wish I could die like a plant
To silently fade out and never let my voice
I wish I could live like a plant
To close my buds facing the knowledge of pain
I wish I could walk the earth unheard
To sneak among the trees and spikes
I wish I could be silent
Like a plant
Želja
Voljela bih da umrem kao biljke
Da se tiho gasim i glasa od sebe da ne dam
Voljela bih da živim kao biljke
Da sklopim latice pred spoznajom boli
Voljela bih da necujno hodam zemljom
Da se šunjam kroz drvece i klasja
Voljela bih da mogu da cutim
Kao biljke
1991.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Blitz
Sky shifted
Focused
Rifling lens sifts
Spits of bullets
Across a no hide
Spot targets shot
In fields of masterminds
All you ever wanted was
To see your children
In Heaven
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There's an angel
dwelling under the desert skin
an underground oasis singing
the song of an unspoken sun
postoji andjeo sto stanuje
pod kozom pustinje
podzemna oaza sto pjeva
pjesmu nedorecenog sunca
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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(Rejection Poem) Angel Of Death
The blood is rushing through my veins.
Breaking free of the shackles and chains.
Being pulled away.
I want to stay but I must go.
Oh hell, no.
It wont happen.
I killed all the passion.
Its over.
Done, sorry but this game can never be won.
The angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I got to just walk away.
Its no longer my mistake.
I must take control.
Pulling the reins trying to drive me insane.
Patience, is no longer in my best interest.
Just leave me alone.
Let me be calm.
Probably should get stoned.
A unending high in this life.
A dream being destroyed.
But I must let go.
For the angel of death has come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
A choice has been made.
As the day fades.
Win or lose it no longer matter anyways.
I'm not playing.
I'm not staying.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping those lost souls.
I must take control.
I was the fool.
I was the fool.
A life so cruel.
I'll watch from afar.
Like a distant star.
You can no longer reach me.
You can no longer b*tch to me.
The line has been written in the sand.
Everyone one on that side is damned.
So let the angel of death come.
Reaping the lost souls
oh reaping the lost souls.
I must take control.
By saying no,
i will not follow a heart so hollow.
I'm not blinded by the sickness.
No oh no.
So let the angel of death come.
Just let her come.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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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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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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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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There They Sail Silently Sail/Tiho Brode Tiho Brode
Censured song offs of the paper ships
Cut into the masts like shadows
In a scissor cut the word has been cut
One word which called many names
With paper notes among two fingers
Windy mornings were spread
The wind knows what has been written
The paper ships knew nothing
Except to sail
To silently sail
Tiho brode tiho brode
Cenzurisano otpjevi papirnih brodova
U jedra izrezani ko sjene
Rezom makaza otkinuta
Jedna riječ je dozivala mnoga imena
Prstohvatom ceduljica
Posuta jutra vjetrovita
Vjetar zna šta je na njima pisalo
Papirni brodovi nisu znali ništa
Sem da brode
Sem da tiho brode
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A global aphorism extended
An anti tie truth is a white collar lie
And I collect spit in my eye
©Miroslava Odalovic&Harry Principle
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Nicky Nicky Nicky Nicky Nicky Nick Pick
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
All you like to do is nitpick my wrongs.
With that constant picking that you see fit.
But only you brood sucking your thumb.
Without that finger licking that you want done!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
With no sleep there you're reaping.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
With no sleep there you're reaping.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A discovery/Otkrice
From behind all the twilights and evening shadows
Under all the covers
And you who do the night rims vigils
Under all sand clocks
And far from those who chase
The windmills of their won restlessness
From behind all the silences hidden within themselves
From behind all the words hidden within themselves
That we were silent with
I took out a flame a fire of the being
It's not the doors locked by the mind
It's not by the mind
Those are not the loves plundered by a heart
Those are not the creatures dried out by the heart
It's not the heart hunt but it's with the heart
It's you and I
And she and he
Those breathings there and these breathings here
That breathe in life everywhere and forever
And they are never now
Oh if we were now how could we be
Otkrice
Iza svih sutona i vecernjih sjenki
Ispod svih pokrivaca
I vas nocobdija okorjele noci
Ispod svih pješcanih satova
I dalje od onih što ganjaju
Vjetrenjace sopstvenih nemira
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih cutanja
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih rijeci kojima smo cutali
Izvukla sam plamen
Oganj samog bice
To nisu umom zakljucana vrata
To nije umom
To nisu srcem poharane ljubavi
To nisu srcem ispijena bica
To nije lov srca no srcem je
To smo ti i ja
I ona tamo i ova ovdje disanja
Što životom dišu svugdje i zauvijek
I nikada u sada
O da smo sada kako bismo bili
1995.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The beginning of mountains
this is how silences wedded me
in the drums aflame I was beating
deaf for the voice which
coming from the wind
leafs out the ends of autumns
pulls the strings of the sky
where it is enough to live
on an accord of a lonely breath
in the corner of the words squatted
a voice was praying
a leaf cut off from the autumn gown
sewed the edges of all the seasons
hit the universe forehead
against the cold soil of waiting
its echo my bridegroom
hand in hand we winged are
a painfully delivered beginning of mountains
©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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Marina Tears
marina she sat by the window
salt tasting tears rolling down down down
touching trembling lips
why did you cry marina
why did you cry
marina she had those hands of sorrow
spasm killed self handshake made of dust
squatted in her lap
what did you touch marina
what did you touch
marina she had those ashen hair plaits
leaking down her back like snakes
biting her spine
what did you do marina
what did you
marina she cried
why did i die
why did i die
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona kucaju preko lanaca od straha
Kucaju tiho kucaju glasno
Ona kucaju preko života do praha
Kucaju neč ujno kucaju jasno
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona se proljeć em otvaraju ko cvijet
Cvjetaju tiho preko vode polja
Ona se ruše i grade ko svijet
Što spašen reč e tvoja sam volja
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona tiho gasnu ko svijeć e nad grobom
Sumrakom ranim na vjetru od riječ i
I tiho se bude pod skutom sa tobom
Melemom ljubavi srce da se liječ i
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Kucaju nevino u kolijevci od krvi
Smrti se ne daju a humkom zidana
Da svjetlost vide kad dan im prvi
Ozari srca rukom tvojom vidana
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona kucaju preko lanaca od straha
Kucaju tiho kucaju glasno
Ona kucaju preko života do praha
Kucaju neč ujno kucaju jasno
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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She said her name was written in the trees
That swayed among invisible boughs
Some barren ink spilled the paper was mute
But she never cried never over that
Environments white long chased through the woods
Landscapes horizons the measure of a flight
She leafed through the words
To see what’s between them
The links and borderline chimes -oh yes -she sang
In silence as the forests were deaf
But she never cried never over that
She set a grave stone mark a life sworn token
Resting its heights on impossibility costs
Because
She lived in the mountains
And slipped through its fangs
The sharp ice air to breathe
She begged by water fountains
The richest being in rags
A child with wind to conceive
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Svitanje vjencava bat sanjanih koraka
svitanje vjenčava bat sanjanih koraka
sa tminom što dobuje tiho kraj uha
ono stapa svjetlost i vrelinu mraka
i šapat tad postaje naušnica sluha
i ruke tad postaju šareni leptiri
sa bjeline jastuka tiho budjeni
prste pomijeraju duboki nemiri
svakom znani dati svakome suđeni
nekom se kapci teški otvaraju
zjena misli pogled samo nemir biva
a u dnu sveg vida tmine se odmaraju
i u dnu sveg nemira tišina sniva
1995-2012
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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