Multitude

I am huge,
A multitude of worlds!

I decide, I know,
I wonder, I learn,
I see others who wonder, too,
And they are plentiful.
I see the sky and the stars,
I see the universe,
And a glimpse of it once again,
In the other people’s eyes.
And I don’t understand,
I cannot decide,
I don’t know.

I am small,
Invisible…

milky-way-923801_1280
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Let’s Be Evil Together

Let’s be evil together!
Let’s bare our pointed teeth
And sharpen our claws.

In moonlight we would walk
And hide from the Sun
Which shines, pierces and burns
Like it owns us all.

Hunters we would be
And never the pray,
Care not about the world
Just destroy and scare.

Merciful never
To those who obey,
We shall bury constructs
Made by fellow men.

Run away with me!
Let’s be evil together,
Let’s be violent –
Be free.

skull-960982_960_720
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Scholarly Conclusion

The children in my school, my students, learn the figures of speech and repeat them each time they learn another poem. So, during class, my mind came up with this. 


I’m a scholar
And I was taught to grasp
The figures in your speech.

I tremble at the hyperboles
Used just to persuade,
I taste the sweet epithets
Uttered to impress.

Litotes you use just right
To shrink me in size.
You paint in oxymorons
Deliberately, to confuse.

Synesthesia in your voice
Sounds like a warm breeze.
Cruel voice, the softest murmur
Onomatopoeic and personified.

But I’m a scholar and I know
That words are everything,
But also nothing,
Nothing at all.

Sunset Goodbye

Blick auf Dresden bei Sonnenuntergang
Carl Gustav Carus (1789-1869)

Look far away.
Stay silent.
Look and breathe in
The playful dance of colours.

Soon they’ll disappear,
Erased as our own selves.
The night is coming closer
And with it brings our sorrow.

Night is dark and lonely
And loneliness hurts deep
Goodbye is just one word
But it means everything.

Night might not have colours,
But it will bring you stars,
It will offer moonlight
Beauty of another kind.


 I haven’t been posting much lately, I know, I’ve been quite busy… But I’m here, reading you, and planning what to post next. 🙂

Anyway, I really like this painting and I felt inspired, so I wrote this little poem for it. 

 

Human

Once upon a time,
A human rose to walk the Earth,
But didn’t know what it was.

Answers came without an invite:
Human was told it was a She,
And there were others who were He.

So human learned to be a She.
And She was told how to play,
What to enjoy and what to desire.

Then they spoke of the colour of the skin,
Power and money, jobs, borders, sex.
Humans are just animals, people are categories.

She was told what to do,
Because that was the way to learn,
And She acted accordingly.

Then, one day, lightning struck,
Through Her body which now felt strange
Made Her conscious of Her skin.

The spark of wisdom, of being aware,
Played tricks on Her memory.
She remembered her life as a human vividly.

Between the instinct and the learned
She didn’t know what was the truth.
Between it all, who was She?

Lies, lies, all they said!
We are rules, but we are freedom,
We are both but we are neither.

Birds, Pigeons and Italy

Siena

I took this photo quite a few years ago, in Siena, Italy. Italy is a great country to visit, and it’s culturally very similar to the coastal Croatia where I live, especially when it comes to great food. 😉 Anyway, when I go on a trip, I like to capture some simple little moments like this one, besides taking pictures of all the “important stuff”. This photo of a pigeon drinking from the fountain feels so lively to me, it’s cute and a little funny. So, I wanted to share it with you. I’ll follow it with a little poem inspired by birds.

Wings flutter
Brave and free
Fragile feathers
Are strong in unity.

Blue and Red

Her days were blue
A colour not of sadness
But of naivety and calm.

His nature was red
The shade of passion
And hidden rage
Born from burning pain.

Together they were purple
A colour of magic
Illusion and trickery.

But blue can’t give to red
The peace of mind it needs
And red can never love blue.
Purple is inconsistent.

What they needed
Was a peaceful valley of green
Tranquil and warm.

But red kept the yellow to himself
All its golden glory
And the light it possessed
Because he had so little.

When red left
Her blue turned grey
Changed, colourless, but free.

Blue couldn’t find green
But grey did
And even with a touch of greyness
The green was green still.


*My little play on colour-mixing and colour symbolism. 

A Path of Roses and Snake Hisses

From everything dark and crude
I wanted to escape
From every hurt and suffering
But running was a sour grape.

Life is not a path of roses
Its roads wind and scream
To find a shortcut through this trip
Would be a truly wicked dream.

So I walk the frigthful road
And in it take my pride
Human is what I need to be
Even on a dreadful ride.

I wanted to be myself
To possess a proud zeal
And I wanted to be strong
Never in need to heal.

I gave my very best
Powerful, bold and free
When a rose bush came to obstruct my way
Growing firm in front of me.

All the power, bold and free
Melted hopelessly and fast
The stone heart where used to be
Broken crumbles turned to dust.

Why now curse the new-found sorrow
When the fault lies all in me
I went down the charming way
I forgot how to be free.

Hear the snakes hiss:
Happiness lives here no more!
Love can only gleeful be
If you’re true to your being’s core.

I hate summer.

I have the privilege of living next to the sea. However, I’m sometimes really ungrateful and my hate for the hot summer overshadows the beauty of the sea. (In my defence, it really is too hot here…) I love the sea, but I hate the beaches so full of people and I hate being in the sun – I’m really pale so my skin doesn’t appreciate it as well.  In a few days I’m leaving for a vacation in Scotland, a wonderful attempt to escape summer for a while. For now, it’s like this…


I hate summer.

Smell of sweat and sea salt
Trapped by the thick air.

Crickets singing their song
A failed attepmt
To make the heat bareable.

Heavy eyes
From sleepless nights
When breathing seems hard.

Scorching sun
Scarce shade
Skin burns all the same.

Ripe figs
Crushed on the ground
Sticking to the sandals
And dusty feet.

Hot soles
Dragging home
An air-conditioned paradise.