I think of you
with a snowflake a raindropp a whirlwind a cloud dust
I think of you
with newly born stars and those dying out
steps untrodden and my feet written in
with cobwebs weaved in the corner of my breath
the doors closed windows shut and sealed
I think of you
with the colours of your golden painted eyes
the softness of your good old hands
a breeze like approach of your warming lips
with an outburst of each passion I think of you
with dew dressed dawns and mist arrayed nights
with the break of days and midnights tolling you
with the twilight opening the buds of your eyes
I think of you
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Will I ever know
The pavement scars of too many steps
Dead corner end stones certificates of dust
The world's just a mark or a place to be
Like countries I live in and those I just travel
The streets will know no difference at all
City dived strongthoughts temporary links
Arteries reaching the nights of beating blood
In a slut's curse stuck in a mirror broken lipstick
Lost in a kiss and the sounds of cars
Acting a movement inventing the bridges
The roads that there are to roll the rocks of heart
Like pearls of white dust against the concrete
Have I dreamt of this when the nights came close
Have I touched the walls or they have touched me
Through the haunting halls some sunlight to see
There was a point at which
To remove the sky meant finding
The shelterless that understood
Intricate patchworks on the blanket
They ate the morsels of clouds
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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What's Philli's Ph or who the F of Philli is -?
Baby bee n times I can be a rapper
Can't help sometimes gotta go flapper
Sorry for spelli too mini a skirt
Too mini a brain too tight a shirt
These Angle turmoils your lg spoil
No worry honey it's just an angle
Of a circle lol or a triangle
Can't take it baby, not any more
He's gotta go out, out of your door
It'll pass or fail at the first test
When Philli fills in all the rest
Hello Philli hip hip hurray
I've come today to make my day
Shall we take it outside if it hurts your pride
Fill in the blanks exercise 1
Say who has lost and who has won
Fill in the blanks exercise 2
There's no fool unless I sing about you
Fill in the blanks exercise 3
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A discovery/Otkrice
From behind all the twilights and evening shadows
Under all the covers
And you who do the night rims vigils
Under all sand clocks
And far from those who chase
The windmills of their won restlessness
From behind all the silences hidden within themselves
From behind all the words hidden within themselves
That we were silent with
I took out a flame a fire of the being
It's not the doors locked by the mind
It's not by the mind
Those are not the loves plundered by a heart
Those are not the creatures dried out by the heart
It's not the heart hunt but it's with the heart
It's you and I
And she and he
Those breathings there and these breathings here
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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This is my silence with the taste of ‘never’
A single plunge from the tip of the tongue
Into the clouds anxiety sponges
Burdened with water and wells too mute
Of elements void of translation
A single flame from the tip of the fingers
That once touched the hard locked heart
Within the heights all skies to burn
In elements void of translation
A single stone cast into a cradle
Rocks an embryo crying for a womb
Like a childless lap still eager to fly
In elements void of translation
A single breath signed by an ocean wind
That namelessly carves the gates of open cages
Wrestling with the forbidden language
In elements void of translation
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A single prayer
A hard know to learn
How things will move before they end
How curtains fall or the masks close
Whoever has staged the face
In whatever the number of degrees
In whatever the number of acts
And whatever’s been done in pauses
A single prayer may prevent
The gun hung on an act one wall
Not to shoot at the subsequent text
All embryo episodes anticipation fright
And tragic mistakes done to deus ex machina calls
How come we didn’t know
Or an ignorance faked covered the frameworks
Closest to warm blankets of white lies
Soothing pedagogical consolations
That it’s not too late
That there’s a lot to be done
To unearth this bit of earth
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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We made them dance
This is how I made you
I took the fibres of black
Spread the twinkling of my heart
Across your body
To make the most beautiful night in the world
I spinned it round and round
Made it dance the river dance
Made it dance the morning dance
Made it dance the evening dance
I made it dance
This is how you made me
You took the fibres of red
Spread the beating of your blood
Across my body
To make the most beautiful love in the world
You spinned it round and round
Made it dance the dance of your seed
Made it dance the dance of your touch
Made it dance the dance of your breath
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Room/Soba
The room the dropp of space
Inhabited by the dwelling mistrust
A grain four dimensioned pushed
Into time as if pushed into an hour
That tick tock possessed by
The sound of its own rhythm
Crosses the limits into an endless over itself
It wants eternity immortality
The root of each a-prefix
Obliteration of oppositions
Endlessly sharpened into the hints
Of each existence where there exists
Endlessly crossed
The room cannot be corners overstepping
It's got its depth the magic power of the center
Matrix of a metropolis cube
Its own soul crying for a mother
The room the mythrix of the outcast of delivery
Evenly creates the sharp lines of writtenness
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You are an inner sense/Ti si unutrasnje culo
You are an inner sense
that makes everything else disappear
the sign written upon my brow
cannot be placed under fingertips
the touches killed will grow again
in spring out of ground
the fruits of death picked up
dropp the living wounds into young graves
so the grains can cry out your name in tears
elevated by death into heaven
like these dresses of mine lifted by storm
thrown into the clouds
like these dresses of mine by thunder
piled up in rags I am piled into a song
like these dresses of mine burned by lightening
You are a inner sense
That makes everything else disappear
A diamond cutting my dreams
A saphire for the sky to paint
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Zdravo, Moje Ime Je Sara
Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.
Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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