„Мисловен ритуал“

Мисловен ритуал                                          ~ 2013

Во длабочините на ноќта, која
веќе одамна им влеала мир на сите околу мене,
чувствувам немир кој ми ги скокотка мислите.
Истиот оној кој и уличните светилки го чувствуваат
додека ѝ пркосат на темнината.

Во Галаксијата на мозоков – Црна дупка,
ја вовлекува сета позитива.
Во срцево – бура од емоции,
а јас молчам.
Ми се чини го галам лицево,
а всушност ги бришам солзите уште пред да потечат.

Маската која преку ден ме загушува
е веќе одамна симната од моето лице.
Имам лузни од истите мисли, кои
секојдневно го сецкаат срцево на парчиња.
Ова сум јас..
со празен поглед од очи полни солзи
и насмевка превртена наопаку.
Продорна и нема
без зборови пред самата себе,
зашто веќе кажано е сè.

Во длабочините на ноќта,
два-три снопа светлина и молк.
Хаотична внатрешност
со примеси на вознемирувачка смиреност.

Во длабочините на ноќта
водам монолози за неизустени мисли,
молчам и не чувствувам.

Во тишината душава го најде својот спас.

Review: Mr. Palomar

Mr. Palomar by Italo Calvino

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is my second time reading Calvino’s stories, and I’m amazed. The rating is such not because the stories or the narration aren’t good, but because I was reading them in a time when I didn’t want to burden my thoughts with details and descriptions.. and this book is all (and maybe just) that.

Palomar is everything a curious man with extra free time would be. He thinks about the space, stars, life, darkness, decisions, actions, people and animals. Every moment of his life is followed by a thorough analysis.. just like all the words waiting to be said. It’s inspiring to read someone’s thoughts about number of different things, it motivates you to think deeply too, to start paying closer attention to all things, even those who seem irrelevant. But again, thinking can be a difficult thing to do. :)

If I read this book at another time, I probably would’ve loved it more. There were some amazing stories, and some boring -can’t wait to finish them- stories. And you know which I, as an all-things-space person, enjoyed the most. But all in all, it’s beautiful to think about about diverse things.. even though what I’ll remember the most is sitting on the balcony and thinking about the space and the stars, together with the brilliant Palomar.

P.S: Some of the best stories are: Reading a wave, The sword of the sun, Moon in the afternoon, The contemplation of the stars, On biting the tongue, The world looks at the world, The universe as a mirror.

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Review: Cosmicomics

Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

To me, the book was a love at first sight. The name, the cover, the fact that it’s about the universe and that everything starts from a single scientific fact. To start reading a book with such excitement and to finish reading without being disappointed, means that it’s one hell of a book!

As a lover of astronomy and writing, I fell in love with Calvino’s creative mind. I couldn’t believe that someone could think of such beautiful stories about so many different moments of the creation of the world. Some are simple, others fun, third deeply philosophical, or chaotic or difficult.. and sometimes, all that together. But, it’s understandable, because the universe and the world themselves were chaotic until they evolved in this (seemingly definite) form, so the stories are such until they end and enter the heart to rest, forever.

Now, my goal is to read the sequel ‘T zero’, or ‘The complete Cosmicomics’. This book found its place both in my heart and on my shelf, and I will read it to my kids before sleeping, one day.

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Review: The Tunnel

The Tunnel by Ernesto Sabato

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

4.5 stars.
They’re not 5 because the whole experience was.. disturbing. It was hard to read the thoughts that roam around in Juan’s head, constantly and in circles, without an exit.

„And then I felt my destiny a far lonelier one than I had imagined.“

And that’s all you need to remember about Juan throughout his elaborate confession of the murder of Maria Iribarne. That loneliness, the despise towards people and the wish to have even one person that understands him, makes him obsess even when there is a slight hope, and analyze every gaze, word and reaction.

But, more important (and maybe even, when you realize, devastating) is the fact that in some moments we sympathize with him, and even find ourselves in some of his traits.

This book leaves you disturbed, with many questions about the (in)justice of his actions, and the truth behind his impressions and thoughts.

View all my reviews

#17 Anhedonia

Anhedonia

If every one of us was born
with a finite amount of happiness
to last a lifetime,
we would be first ones in our generations
to have reached the limit.

As the lethargic years went by,
I would have taught you how to live
with your thoughts and emotions
constantly heaving down on you;
how to feel your sadness,
and how to fall in love with (the) feeling.

We would have been the artists
we never had the time to become;
the ones who create beauty
based on memories,
but are numb to the feeling.

I want to believe that
we would have learned how to be content
without being happy.
Afterwards,
we would just
reminisce.

 

I would have taught you how to live with your thoughts and emotions heaving down on you, and how to fall in love with (the) feeling.

— Хеима (@heima_x) May 10, 2016

Clementine von Radics ~ Mouthful of Forevers

Mouthful of Forevers

I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.

This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.

 

Poem of the Week is a segment that features poems which left an impression on me and, in my opinion, should be shared with as many poetry lovers as possible. Sometimes – even with the others.. perhaps, they will fall in love with poetry, too.

#16 Бунт на младоста

Бунт на младоста

Доволен е еден поглед
во метежот на лица
– цел спектар на различности, и
една нишка која се проткајува:
тагата –
за да сфатиш што е погрешно
во овој необичен свет.

Младите се новодојденци кои
сѐ уште ѝ се восхитуваат на природата и
веруваат во добрината на луѓето,
за грижата да ја згасне нивната насмевка.
Но, постарите се веќе одамна свесни
за она што човекот го одзел од неа, и
за живеењето во темнината на сенката
на луѓето со погрешни идеали.

Со сите убедувања кои ни се налагаат,
наивно би помислиле дека
токму припадноста
– кон парче земја или прастар предок –
е она што нѐ спојува, кога всушност
тоа е она што нѐ разделува.

Нѐ раздразнува што нашите ставови,
осмилени и различни
– за промена –
без никаков аргумент
ги отфрлуваат плашливи луѓе
кои се молат пред партиската книшка,
заглавени во безизлезниот круг
на логото на нивната светост.

Сѐ уште се прашуваме
дали младоста
или свесноста
е она што нѐ преродува.

Поттикнуваме размислување
наместо слепо прифаќање,
за да изникне бар некоја чиста совест
од гнилата земја која постојано се преработува.

И додека изртиме и дознаеме,
во еден глас пееме:
„Јас сум повеќе од човек
кој вечно вегетира!
Јас не сум марионета
на раката што диригира!“

……

*  Оваа песна ја напишав за ланскиот конкурс на 100 Илјади поети за промена. Темата беше: промени, глобално и  локално, па во мене веднаш се променија – или родија – последните 4 стихови, кои ги носев во себе долго. А потоа возбудата околу крајниот рок си го направи своето.  :)

Официјален блог каде можете да ги прочитате сите поеми:
https://100tpc.wordpress.com/

Edgar Allan Poe ~ Alone

Alone

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

 

Poem of the Week is a segment that features poems which left an impression on me and, in my opinion, should be shared with as many poetry lovers as possible. Sometimes – even with the others.. perhaps, they will fall in love with poetry, too.

‘My end, maybe yours too’

My end, maybe yours too                                      ~ 2013

We buried our dreams underground.
We buried the dream of us.

I remember our sweet little talks
and you
saying how you’ll follow them,
your dreams,
everywhere.

Where are you now?
Don’t be afraid.

They’re there,
shattered into small pieces.
They’re there,
laying deep inside me,
waiting for you to reach them.

Don’t be afraid,
reach them for me,
because without you I don’t have any left.

Your dreams are there,
standing still,
crystallized –
unlike you.

You were never that clear.

Ана Голејшка ~ Признание

Признание

Сакам да ти кажам дека е време
да почнеме да живееме, онака како во древните времиња
да постоиме еден за друг и да нема во ниеден момент плач
само соживот со лавовите
ниеден крвав меч ниту крвопролевања
да научиме дека грстот песок некому е земја од соништата
дека капка вода е спас на срцевиот пожар
да ја видиме светлината

Сакам да ти кажам дека е време
да сме луѓе и љубовници
да ти постелам ѕвезди роеви
да бидам магија, да ме има и снемува,
да те нацртам на морскиот брег
како бразда од бран исчезната

Сакам да ти кажам
дека Љубовта е единствениот одговор
иако ти никогаш не ме праша
дали навистина сево ова можеме да го издржиме.

 

Poem of the Week is a segment that features poems which left an impression on me and, in my opinion, should be shared with as many poetry lovers as possible. Sometimes – even with the others.. perhaps, they will fall in love with poetry, too.