Game
The game of seasons,
In which, if you had been the autumn,
I would have been the spring
To give you my flower
Sweet chestnut-tree....
The game of universe,
In which, if you had been the earth,
I would have been your moon,
Eclipsing you forever, my dear....
The game of the earth,
In which, if you had been the mountain,
I would have been your valley
To hide myself......
The game of thoughts,
In which, if you had been the abstract,
I would have been your value of judgment,
To treasure your ideas....
[...] Read more
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Vibration
My sight chipped out the clouds
from the sky. My eyes became
so expressive for you. The clouds
were, in fact, your thoughts having
the polarity of love. This love of ours
was, in fact, a 'sweet slavery'. We
were searching for our rainbow of
dreams, we were searching for our
color of happiness. Sometimes,
I'm so tired with you, living between
the meanders of your soul. I'm
so tired that I need to cry. The
vibration of your voice becomes
a tear at dawn. Then, love seems
to explode inside of us. This
explosion is like a sunrise. I
expect The Divine to sit nicely
there, in the depth of our souls
and to flow brightly as the
water flows on mountain rocks.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Flight
When the sacred kingfisher is flying,
It is frantically flapping its wings to
The sand of the sea,
In a form of a deep curve as a rainbow.
Its flight is most like a deep, steady wing beat
To fly higher and higher.
Its wing seemingly bites the air.
So skilled at flying
Is the sacred kingfisher
And so naturally suited to the sky
That it can frantically flap its wings to
The sand of the sea.
In a form of a deep curve as a rainbow.
From that deep curve comes its screaming
And the white bleeding rain,
[...] Read more
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Evil Earths (Horror Poetry)
Screaming voices shattering the inner mirror of love
Clattering to nothingness, searching freedom in space,
Bloody songs tightly warping their blue heaven above
In the thin and chill air disappearing without a trace,
O’er sad whispers, wind whipping through the wounds
For the symphony of demons' dreams as a veil disguise,
Bloody voices needing to build up stomping grounds,
Buried danger sprouting out to keep growing in size,
The salty tears of liquid souls forming watery waves,
Beauties in red waiting to face on their fear of death,
Still screaming while drowning in the cold watery graves,
Tearing the silence with their groan and bleeding breath.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Butterfly (The Mirror Sestet Poetry)
Delight adorns butterfly’s fluttering wings in flight,
Flight is his beauty for anemones to delight.
Wing flitters freely and his fragile moods can swing,
Swing dances he teaches the white flowers with his wing.
Breeze finds him out among the blooming buckeye red trees,
Trees push his innocent virgin spirit in the breeze.
Dance nurtures the flower to put her into deep trance,
Trance is his way to gather pollen for her life dance.
Dreams fiery rise in crimson, when the flower gleams,
Gleams of dawn in the east are his love powerful dreams.
Charms are her powers to spread fragrances in his arms
Arms are his wings when he flies to search for other charms.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Complains about the wind
The sharp wind sways the wet flame
In his cold rain like a storm tears, which numbs
The frozen buds before their intumescence.
With desperate gusts, the wind sighs deeply,
Sweeping the perennial cool-mellow grass,
In sunless wane, increasingly provoking
The drama of the garden and his disguised agony,
Always coming from the top of the hill,
Untangling his lips of his mouth,
That kind of mouth like an invisible cave,
Stretching nonsense words like a prayer to nothing,
Dancing his force with the willow trees,
Furiously riding the bursting clouds,
Singing his tempest very louder songs,
Trying to utter his selfishness,
His dreams and his future chances.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
This Universe
I want to describe this universe.
I want to say that I found it absolutely useless,
More useless than the green hidden
In the fecundity
Of those flowers without petals,
More frightening
Than a snake
Uselessly writhing
Near the petrified image
Of the Medusa,
And more painful
Than any frightening funeral kiss,
But much more higher
Than my thirst for knowledge,
And much more deeper
Than the whole ignorance,
And much more profound
Than the whole existence,
And much more real
Than all the truths I know,
[...] Read more
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The flower's scent-Sonnet
The flower's scent for the moon's highness
Is like red of hero leaving his battle far away!
Forever he lives with his induced blindness
'Cause his courage disappeared in the spring of May!
The honest Helen of Troy in her inner fire bent
Her strange memory there wanting forever to lye!
Don't blush her truth and the flower's scent
Don't ever stir the scent of any opened lie.
The indifference and the hate usually can twist
The power of the Rainbow-Queen with a false tear
The rose of the flower's sense maybe don't exist
Even when looking after them very, very near!
The realistic cruelty of any clever black heart
Is to make the sense of any blame a work of art.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Your Cubic Slang
Enclose the closeness in your soul,
Enclose it as you enclose the ''uco'' in cornucopious.
Enclose the gray transparency in your sky,
When it is so close to your coming clouds.
They are the dimples of your cognitive space,
They are hollow thoughts,
When you set your ideals at naught.
Those clouds are inside of your gray
As close as the ''co'' in the cocoon,
Those clouds are fulfilled with your leady rain.
They are uncracked nuts waiting for a crack.
Let the rain of your Cumulonimbus storm
To fall over the lead of my pain.
Enclose inside of my lead
All your Oort clouds
Lost in your cubic slang.
MCN: CDDQ1-JVPR9-7NHF6
© copyright Fri Jan 20 UTC 2012 - All Rights Reserved
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Our sliding existence
I think it is the shadow of a sound
It seems to be so real
I'm in the prison of my mind
I think I hear the rude rain-drops
Shrieking on the asphalt,
It seems to be only the eaves drip
Or maybe the clatter of hoof-clipped stones
And scrape of gravel down.
I saw a light, I think it is a thunder light
It's seems to be only an electrical explosion
I open the window and I see everything unclear outside
I think it is the smoke from a burning building
It seems to be only fog in the air
I think you hair smells like imperial lily flowers
It seems that the lily blooms
So beautifully in the cup when steeped
In front of our window
I'm in the prison of my mind
In our sliding existence
[...] Read more
poem by Marieta Maglas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!