I'm no longer blind (Quatern poetry)
(A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is
similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a
different place in each quatrain. The first line of stanza one is the second
line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fouth line of stanza four.
A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow
a set rhyme scheme. line 1 line 2 line 3 line 4 line 5 line 6 (line 1) line 7
line 8 line 9 line 10 line 11 (line 1) line 12 line 13 line 14 line 15 line 16
(line 1)
Dear Lord, please have mercy on me,
You're always near my painful soul,
You are my focus and my goal,
In the falling rain I'm your tree.
Help me for I am a sinner.
Dear Lord, please have mercy on me.
'Cause I'm Your humble devotee,
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Latina Time
This game is the way in which slaughter becomes an end in itself.
Acta est fabula plaudite
The play has been performed; applaud!
Surely, less obvious ways exist
The Darkness seeks to manipulate us into its service.
Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea.
The act is not guilty unless the mind is also guilty.
Once all of them have won a very special princess prize,
the game is over....
and they will never buy another one.....
Alis grave nil.
Nothing is heavy to those who have wings
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Dance of Love
I ride on your thighs and I embrace you with my both hands
The wind scraps our deep love dance off with the sudden gusts
Our swift flicks it several times, its tip just touching the wet sand.
The sky is blue and leaves of our tree are covered with orange rust.
My hands moved down your body before reaching your hips
The predation tremor in the early life dance of thrills flounder
Cradling my body in your arms my warm lips are against your lips
Your thoughts made me shiver as my eyes wandered endlessly over
You take small steps and make the turn into and become a part of my dance.
In the next instant an explosion of dawn light and the stirrings of happiness herald
You gonna take me to a place where I can shine, take me high feel so high trance
I keep the new world in the grain of green, I see love in your eyes of emerald.
You keep real close, lover whispers to my ear, I fly to the heavens’ high
You run your fingers through my hair, then dance your lips in orbital circle
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The poet and poetess II
The poetess
The night I met you something special happened
It was like a fusion of two stars in blue
They made the shivering nature to brighten
A concealed window opened and I saw you
The poet
It was a rainy day the clouds cried so hard
Until I felt my fire sparking inside
And you dashed my sadness when you crossed onward
I waited you all my life, please be my bride.
The poetess
I felt I really met you in before time
I knew you are my love when I touched your soul
This interchange of feelings is so sublime
As aurora borealis in North Pole
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor, in memoriam
Bigger than life, so beautiful and violet-eyed,
For being the movie’s most legendary star,
Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor was really portrayed,
With her dramatic spark, as an actress so far.
She knew from her mother that this art is awesome,
In aeternum keeping her shining star so tight,
Wanting to be all or nothing and to become
Bigger than life, so beautiful and violet-eyed.
During filming National Velvet, she was hurt,
But her heart vibrated like a string of guitar.
Instead of leaving, she tried her role to exert
For being the movie’s most legendary star.
She was a ray of incircumscriptableness,
An immaculate, unique talent she remained.
As being thawed by her genial consciousness,
Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor was really portrayed.
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The White City
I'm in the white city.
A dense fog
Disintegrates all my hopes.
There are people dreaming
Of nonexistent worlds,
There are disoriented people
Walking on the terminal's sidewalk.
There are lights turning on and off so erratically
In this white city.
There are hidden screams in the night
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Passing of time
The passing of time through the changing pattern of our thought
Is like a fish passing water over its gills,
Or like a cosmic engine
And not unlike the stream of light passing through pictures
It is leading to our irreversible changing,
It is triggering our memories,
Those emotions that are often evoked
When hearing a piece of music from our past.
The time is perfect..
Present perfect, past perfect, future perfect...
Every time we understand more about ourselves
We are going through an invisible portal
In our awareness.
And every time we think about our awareness
We understand that our cages are within,
Created by fear and the walls we
Have built around our heart.
It is our imperfection the place where our story lives..
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Poem for Thorsten
My unique perfect love,
The world will never be separated in two parts from now on.
We need the freedom for feelings,
For our painful feelings.
My baron...
And my first fiancé....
We need to express our uniqueness....
We had all freedom for our pain...
Even we never understood the reason for our pain...
But we needed the freedom for love....
This great struggle for freedom, around the world....
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The Wall
We built a black wall in our white space
To create two different worlds, where you and I
Could live separately
It was an internal wall of human misery
Almost invisible from the outside.
Then, we sought the knowledge.
We were husband and wife,
But we separately sought the same knowledge.
We had been seeking the knowledge until
We couldn't feel any thrill of love.
We had been seeking the knowledge in spite of love,
Until we realized that
We could not live without love any longer.
Knowledge would have no sense
If we could really and permanently die
In nothingness.
Therefore, we started looking for love again.
We realized we had to break down
The wall we had built some time ago.
Meanwhile, the wall has become white and the spaces
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Losing Steps
This is an illusion of time-shrinking
With empty time intervals.......
I can feel the cosmic pulse of life shrinking in a reverse spiral.
I try to forget myself, I try to dig deeper and deeper into nothingness..
But your lost steps bring me back.
I find myself in your arms, in your bed, inside of you.
It seems to be evening, but no, the immortal mobile horizons
Immolate themselves
In the hardened surface of the shrinking blob of quartz of the sand..
We are trying to rely their shape on our sense of sight,
Our sense of sight, that seeing-eye, crept into our vision.
Our mental vision, rooted in our mind,
Our physical vision, rooted in our astral nature.
We are trying to make them real,
But we understand that the shape can be cropped only inside of us.
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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