Dajem ti verse: tema o poeziji.

[Lil Big Alice]

A Story for Rose on the Midnight Flight to Boston


Until tonight they were separate specialties,
different stories, the best of their own worst.
Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy's
laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first
story. Someday, I promised her, I'll be someone
going somewhere and we plotted it in the humdrum
school for proper girls. The next April the plane
bucked me like a horse, my elevators turned
and fear blew down my throat, that last profane
gauge of a stomach coming up. And then returned
to land, as unlovely as any seasick sailor,
sincerely eighteen; my first story, my funny failure.
Maybe Rose, there is always another story,
better unsaid, grim or flat or predatory.
Half a mile down the lights of the in-between cities
turn up their eyes at me. And I remember Betsy's
story, the April night of the civilian air crash
and her sudden name misspelled in the evening paper,
the interior of shock and the paper gone in the trash
ten years now. She used the return ticket I gave her.
This was the rude kill of her; two planes cracking
in mid-air over Washington, like blind birds.
And the picking up afterwards, the morticians tracking
bodies in the Potomac and piecing them like boards
to make a leg or a face. There is only her miniature
photograph left, too long now for fear to remember.
Special tonight because I made her into a story
that I grew to know and savor.
A reason to worry,
Rose, when you fix an old death like that,
and outliving the impact, to find you've pretended.
We bank over Boston. I am safe. I put on my hat.
I am almost someone going home. The story has ended.


Anne Sexton

[miss_misty]

Miroslav Antić - Malilini

Mora biti da sam pošašavio
- načisto.

Zar ne vidiš da si lepa,
Malilini,
da si lepa kao ptica
od šarenog perja.

Nemam dukat da te kupim.
Nemam braću da te otmem.
Nemam majku da te uvračamo.

Da odem u vojsku
dve-tri godine,
rano mi je za vojsku,
a i šta cu bez tebe.

Da idem po vašarima,
Da sviram po birtijama,
da kupujem perje,
da se kockam, pa da zaradim,

- udaćes se za nekog
dok se vratim, nesrećo.

Beži mi sa mojih očiju.
Mora biti da sam pošašavio
- načisto.

Nisi ti ni lepa,
Malilini.
nisi ti ni kao ptica
od šarenog perja.

Ima takvih u ciganskom rodu
i jos lepših - barem hiljadu.

Da te kupim za dukat,
da ga odmah potrošiš.
Šta će meni braća,
pa da se u tebe zaljube.

Da je živa moja mati,
ti bi u nju pogledala
urokljivim očima,
i ***** bi moju pretvorila
u vrbu.

A možda i ne bi,
Malilini.
Eto šta ja govorim.
Teško meni: lud sam!

Zar ne vidiš da si lepa,
Malilini,
da si lepa kao ptica
od šarenog perja - priznajem!

Nemoj da me kljuješ
u to moje grlo
sa tim lepim očima.

Ne mogu da dišem
od tebe.
U nosu mi duša,
nesrećo.

Ja žvaćem tvoju kosu.
Ti žvaćes moju krv.
Ja žvaćem tvoje ruke.
Ti žvaćes moje srce.

Ja žvacem tvoju crvenu maramu.
Ti žvaces moj nikakvi život.
I moju nikakvu sudbinu.

Tako si me dovela u nešto
glupavo
pa govorim,
a ne znam šta govorim.

Pa osećam,
a ne znam šta osećam.
Pa ja plačem
i ne plačem ujedno.

Sad moram da idem
da probam da nađem
neki drugi život
i drukčiju sudbinu.
Idem u vojnike.
baš me briga za tebe.
Idem odmah sutra
da budem oficir.

Baš je meni
život lep.
Otkud da je nikakav.

Nakriviću kapu preko uveta.
Četa mirno!
Četa napred marš!

Eto vidiš šta govorim.
sve - koješta.
Šalim se.
Oprosti.

Mora biti da sam pošašavio
- načisto.

[Caroline I]

@ miss_misty - odličan izbor! ima jedna od Miroslava Antića pjesma koju sada moram jednostavno objaviti, ne znam da li je prije bila, ali meni je jedna od najdražih:

BESMRTNA PESMA

by: Miroslav Antić

Ako ti jave: umro sam,
a bio sam ti drag,
onda će u tebi
odjednom nešto posiveti.
Na trepavici magla.
Na usni pepeljast trag.

Da li si uopšte ponekad
mislio šta znači živeti?

Ako ti jave: umro sam
evo šta će biti.

Hiljadu šarenih riba
lepršaće mi kroz oko.

I zemlja će me skriti.
I korov će me skriti.
A ja ću za to vreme
leteti visoko...
Visoko.

Zar misliš da moja ruka,
koleno,
ili glava
može da bude sutra
koren breze
il' trava?

Ako ti jave: umro sam,
ne veruj
to ne umem.

Na ovu zemlju sam svratio
da ti namignem malo.
Da za mnom ostane nešto
kao lepršav trag.
I zato: ne budi tužan.
Toliko mi je stalo
da ostanem u tebi
budalast i čudno drag.

Noću,
kad gledaš u nebo,
i ti namigni meni.
Neka to bude tajna.
Uprkos danima sivim
kad vidiš neku kometu
da nebo zarumeni,
upamti: to ja još uvek
šašav letim, i živim.

[miss_misty]

Rubovima snova

teturamo jutrom što prostire sunce

po licima sanjara.

Nakon noći nesanjive,

brojimo treptaje bedara,

minutama što će pamtiti

dodire cvijeta.

I sada stojimo

na vrhu svijeta,

na vrhu požude

što sanjala je gledati oblake.

A ove tihe korake

što svjesno činimo na kiši,

poklanjamo mislima

svakog sutra.

Da izdržimo jutra,

da preletimo dane.

Dok opet jedan ovakav

ne svane…

[takeover]

Write me a letter

Write me a letter.
The letter in which you could tell me
The things you haven’t told me for time was running out …
The letter I’d been waiting for several decades in the borrowed dreams, in the borrowed and rented mornings in the empty rooms without letter boxes …
Write me a letter.
I’ve been reading your silence long enough
Illiterate silence
With invisible but sharp syllables hung onto that rusty nail which someone had put carefully in an envelope for me by mistake …
… there are no mistakes in this mellow yet indifferent universe …
If I were to write you a letter I would write only one line
I miss your hands!
I miss your hands with countless fingers
Which touched my skin like
Countless raindrops from the sky in times when I believed that the sky cared for us.
It didn’t!
I imagined, I dreamed, I asked the sky…
But, you and the sky remained silent, indifferent, almost non-existent…
I wondered:
If you ever wanted to write me a letter
What would you say?

[Lil Big Alice]

Krug
Mak Dizdar


U ovom hodu pod zvijezdama hladnim prolaznici smo trajni
na pohodu zvijezdi svojoj Al samo si ti ona koja jezdi
na mom nebu Čas večernjača sjajna što obećava zoru
čas zornjača umorna što nudi budući veče
Kad staneš da odahneš i zemlja staje
samo mirisno bilje otrovno i slatko i kovilje i smilje
udiše tvoj dah i ne prestaje za ljepotu otetu
bez krika i rana volšebno da baje da raste kad se predaje
U sumnji toj priklona pravog znam da nisam sam
nadajuć dlane i suncu i munji
al’ smiju se sebi svi oni što kriju
da vole kad love pregršt cvijeća plavog
te izvjesna je od pitanja mnogih neizvjesnost samo
Ovamo tu rijeku što zaprepastila si juče svojim bijelom tijelom
i na plač potonji na tu kajnu jeku kazala si srca laka
i jaka neka vode teku neka samo teku neka
mjesto da se vratiš i da platiš tajnu
U sobu što posivjela je beznadno u preranoj dobi
ušla si danas i gle kobi njine sve stvari oživjela
zaboravljeno ogledalo je palo i odmah se dalo
probuđene stvari sad pamte te i zbog tebe pate
Tamo si i tu Posijana Ko u drevnoj bajci
iz lužine mrtve svoju pticu stvaraš a viteza živog u stamen kam pretvaraš
pa čemu onda ja da se nadam što rekli bi pjesnici i davni i slavni
valja da šutim i da se ne jadam i šuteći tako
u ljubavi vječnoj i vječno da stradam
Da kleknem neću Da reknem zbogom poslovno i jasno
bilo bi i uzaludno i kasno
jer desilo bi se meni ko vjerniku svakom sa njegovim bogom
tebe da našao bih gdje kročio god nogom
u svakoj travci u svakoj javci u svakoj varci
Središte si strašno što širok krug oko sebe stvara
ja trunka sam nemoćna što bijegom svakim sve dublje taj krug otvara

[miss_misty]

Jutros si me prvi put opsovala
a da nisam znao razlog.
Ponadao sam se da je nesporazum
jer ne bih volio da sam prestao brinuti.

Mnoge su propasti tako započinjale
ali sa tobom ne želim gubiti.
Volio bih te zamoliti za oprost
zbog svega što je moglo biti
ali to nije način.
Trebao bih znati.
A tebi je suza već zasjala u oku
kao upozorenje pred mogući potop.
Prilazim k tebi
i prilažem nježni poljubac povrh čela.
Za početak
nadam se da znaš
koliko te volim.

[talented miss cohen]

'I often think that I should like
To be the saddle of a bike.'

-- Sir John Betjeman, poet and hack.

[LittleRedRidingHood]

Ne mogu da se pomirim sa ovom vrstom čovečanstva.
Još imam čulo nevinosti i radosti.
I ne mogu da žurim.
Da se grčim i kidam.
Da budem privremen.
Ja brusim svoje oči u drago kamenje.

[miss_misty]

Mi smo oboje nalik na jedan osmeh davni,
i tako cudno slicni ponekoj suzi jasnoj.
Mozda je sreca samo sto smo ko nebo ravni
sisli sa istog voza na jednoj stanici kasnoj,
i pronasli u sebi da zajedno umemo
da docekamo drumom i cvetanja i vetar,
pa da idemo bosi ... da idemo ... idemo ...
bez straha da l' postoji sledeci kilometar.

[miss_misty]

SNOVI

Velike ruke imaju ušće koje ih pretvara u
okean
Veliki vetar ima prozračne puteve ka ravnici
Ja imam samo san, običan malecki san
u kome za pedalj bliže ponekoj zvezdi i ptici

U zoru od svega toga čitavo nebo izraste
na mojim rukama toplim i obrazima snenim
i dan je nalik na neke zenice graoraste
oivičene zelenim.

I uopšte, zvezdo i ptico,
uopšte - celi svete,
divno je kad se u nama čekanje javi,
pa se od toga na usni nešto rumeno isplete
i nešto graorasto i zeleno u glavi.

[Lil Big Alice]

Fiesta

Čaše su bile prazne
i boca razbijena
Postelja raspremljena
a vrata zatvorena
Sve su zvijezde od stakla
od sreće i tjeskobe
treperile u prahu
nepospremljene sobe
Bio sam mrtav pijan
bio sam sretan do bola
ti pijana i živa
u mome naručju gola.


J. Prévert

[freja]

RASTANAK

Tko zna kad ćemo se sastati.
Možda ćemo čekati godinama,
a možda vječno.

Uzmimo stoga grudu gline,
namočimo je, izmijesimo je,
i načinimo lik tvoj
i lik moj.
Tada ih razbijmo, zdrobimo ih,
pa ih, uz malo vode,
zamijesimo zajedno.

Od te ćemo gline ponovno načiniti
lik tvoj i lik moj.
Tako će u mojoj glini biti malo tebe,
a u tvojoj glini malo mene.
I ništa nas nikada neće razdvojiti.

Za života ćemo uvijek biti jedno drugome u srcu,
a mrtvi zajedno pokopani.

gospođa Kuan

[LittleRedRidingHood]

Okončanje bola (1972)

cujem cak i planine
nacin na koji se smeju
plavim padinama
dole u vodi
ribe placu
i sva je voda
njihove suze.
slusam vodu
u propalim nocima
i tuga toliko raste
da je cujem u budilniku
postaje rucka na komodi
postaje papir na podu
postaje kasika za cipele
kartica od perionice
postaje dim cigarete
koji se penje
kapelom tajnih vijuga...

to malo znaci

sasvim mala ljubav
nije tako losa
ili sasvim mali zivot

ono što se meri
je cekanje na zidove

roden sam za ovo

roden sam da mamim ruze
duz avenija mrtvih..


Bukowski

[_doublleB_]

Nisam znala, di da ju stavim
Odlicna je... i slatka

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_432Z_38wms[/youtube]

[talented miss cohen]

^ vrlo slatkasti poetry slam, odlično.
da, da (yes! ) ovo je pravo mjesto za to.

Svašta ljepog sam se načitala (naslušala), bravo curke!

[talented miss cohen]

ANGELUŠ
Jura Stubičanec

Kip Dore v senci nekaj je znal
v kutu Te čekam, ne bu ti žal
duša kak sveča mi treperi
bum Te kušuval dok Zagreb spi.

Angeluš zvoni, prihaja noč
mesec z lampašem obečal je doč...

Negdo si spija zadnji gemišt
se mu je lepo, zapraf ni ništ
zvono sa Marka sakom pove:
" zemi si malko gda nemreš se ".

Angeluš zvoni, prihaja noč
mesec z lampašem obečal je doč...

Vzdiše Zlatarovo zlato
zadnja sveča šara tram
mi sme prešli, pak je zato
kip vu senci ostal sam.

Angeluš zvoni, prihaja noč
mesec z lampašem obečal je doč...

Prošel je Matoš, tiho je klel
kostajn vu parku rascval se bel;
to kaj nam život nočas bu dal
bumo si zeli, dok grad bu spal.

[fakatja]

Doći će smrt i imaće tvoje oči

Doći će smrt i imaće tvoje oči-
ta smrt što nas saleće
od jutra do večeri,besana
i gluva,kao stara griža savesti
ili besmislena mana. Tvoje oči
biće uzaludna reč,
prigušen krik, muk.
Vidiš ih tako svakog jutra
kada se nadnosiš nad sobom u ogledalu.

O draga nado,
toga dana i mi ćemo znati
da jesi život i ništavilo.

Za svakoga smrt ima pogled.
Doći će smrt i imaće tvoje oči.
Biće poput ispravljanja mane,
kao zurenje u ogledalo
iz koga izranja mrtvo lice,
kao slušanje zatvorenih usta.
Sići ćemo u bezdane nemi.

Cesare Pavese,1950

[Fuga]

GET DRUNK by Baudelaire

ONE SHOULD always be drunk. That’s the great thing; the only question. Not to feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and bowing you to the earth, you should be drunk without respite.

Drunk with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please. But get drunk.

And if sometimes you should happen to awake, on the stairs of a palace, on the green grass of a ditch, in the dreary solitude of your own room, and find that your drunkenness is ebbing or has vanished, ask the wind and the wave, ask star, bird, or clock, ask everything that flies, everything that moans, everything that flows, everything that sings, everything that speaks, ask them the time; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird and the clock will all reply: “It is Time to get drunk! If you are not to be the martyred slaves of Time, be perpetually drunk! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please."

[Lil Big Alice]

As I walked out one evening


As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.


W. H. Auden

[miss_misty]

I walk in your garden
And I feel your soul
This time like no other
I don't fear to go
My eyes are wide open
And I'm ready to be
Whatever you're thinking
I already see

Come change my world
Make it better that it was before
Come change my world
You come banging on my door
Two broken angels
Sharing life's scars
You don't wanna change me
And I love what you are
Come change my world

Cos I walk in your garden
This time I can see
This time forever
It feels so safe to just let it be, let it be
Come change my world
Make it better that it was before

Come change my world
You come banging on my door
Two broken angels
Sharing life's scars
You don't wanna change me
And I love what we are
Come change my world

[Lil Big Alice]

The Opening of The Trunk

Moment of inner freedom
when the mind is open & the
infinite universe revealed
& the soul is left to wander
dazed & confus'd searching
here & there for teachers & friends.

-------------------

Moment of Freedom
as the prisoner
blinks in the sun
like a mole
from his hole

a child's 1st trip
away from home

That moment of Freedom


J. D. Morrison

[_doublleB_]

Louise Gluck - The Untrustworthy Speaker

Don't listen to me; my heart's been broken.
I don't see anything objectively.

I know myself; I've learned to hear like a psychiatrist.
When I speak passionately,
That's when I'm least to be trusted.

It's very sad, really: all my life I've been praised
For my intelligence, my powers of language, of insight-
In the end they're wasted-

In my own mind, I'm invisible: that's why I'm dangerous.
When I'm quiet, that's when the truth emerges.

I never see myself.
Standing on the front steps. Holding my sisters hand.
That's why I can't account
For the bruises on her arm where the sleeve ends . . .

That's why I'm not to be trusted.
Because a wound to the heart
Is also a wound to the mind.

[_doublleB_]

ANNABEL LEE
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
And killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea--
In her tomb by the side of the sea.



by Edgar Allan Poe
(1849)

[Debaser]

To what shall I compare her,
That is as fair as she?
For she is fairer - fairer
Than the sea.
What shall be likened to her,
The sainted of my youth?
For she is truer - truer
Than the truth.

As the stars are from the sleeper,
Her heart is hid from me;
For she is deeper - deeper
Than the sea.
Yet in my dreams I view her
Flush rosy with new ruth -
Dreams! Ah, may these prove truer
Than the truth.

Robert Louis Stevenson

[_doublleB_]

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14zbC-AwM1Y[/youtube]

She gives me shiwers

[_doublleB_]

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVGD19VvpSA[/youtube]

[Lil Big Alice]

Magalu

Summer comes.
The ziczac hovers
'Round the greedy-mouthed crocodile.
A vulture bears away a foolish jackal.
The flamingo is a dash of pink
Against dark green mangroves,
Her slender legs rivalling her slim neck.
The laughing lake gurgles delicious music in its throat
And lulls to sleep the lazy lizard,
A nebulous being on a sun-scorched rock.
In such a place,
In this pulsing, riotous gasp of color,
I met Magalu, dark as a tree at night,
Eager-lipped, listening to a man with a white collar
And a small black book with a cross on it.
Oh Magalu, come! Take my hand and I will read you poetry,
Chromatic words,
Seraphic symphonies,
Fill up your throat with laughter and your heart with song.
Do not let him lure you from your laughing waters,
Lulling lakes, lissome winds.
Would you sell the colors of your sunset and the fragrance
Of your flowers, and the passionate wonder of your forest
For a creed that will not let you dance?


Helene Johnson

[rainbow]

Tajne pravječnosti ne poznaješ ni ti, ni ja;
Tu zagonetku riješiti ne umiješ ni ti, ni ja;
Naš razgovor, u biti, iza zavjese teče,
Kad zastori padnu, nitko ne ostaje: ni ti, ni ja.
Omar Hajam

[shizika]

I OPET MI DUŠA SVE O TEBI SANJA



I opet mi duša sve o tebi sanja,
I kida se srce i za tobom gine,
A nevjera tvoja daleko se sklanja,
Kao tavni oblak kad sa neba mine.

I opet si meni čista, sjajna, vedra,
Iz prizraka tvoga blaženstva me griju,
Pa bih opet tebi panuo na njedra
I gledô ti oči što se slatko smiju.

Tako vita jela koju munja zgodi
Još u nebo gleda i života čeka,
I ne misli: nebo da oblake vodi
Iz kojih će nova zagrmiti jeka...