Friday, March 3rd 2017

AMBASSADOR OF POETRY

Missing are the ardent words
diversity expressing in memory,
I do not want to remember Nero
the darkness bleak times,
crazy loads of history
let them find a place in limbo …
Marching the deadly bullets
in the hunters arena
we are likely to replace
with fresh olive branch …
I am far from distinguishing the color of skin
even away from the Religions,
in me, the red blood inside streams
always remembers Almighty God…
I came with those letters,
invited to love as Ambassador of Poetry,
cuddle, fondle, four sides
excited to merge for good in the world.
The ancient civilization,
gathered are to plant olives
joined with the white dove
to place down peace in humanity,
place this of future starting from today
we
under Conductor’s Baton
conscience appeal has made
Gold pen invites
free to breathe this tired world …

THE EMPEROR OF CURIOSITY

Storm’s life invites me,
to sail on waves of insolence,
being in the mysterious world,
I am armed with ego madness,

stirred are feelings,

lighted, entered without laziness,
gathered were poor images,
idiotic laughter sparked resistance,
I left backward across the mill,

darkness covered me,

it was fortress that stretched poisoned hand,
at this stage, grabbed the emotions,
on high speed I left running,
again kept tracking damned path,

implemented is the idyll of insolence ,

armored doors, evoked curiosity,
armed with frustration, sitting cross-legged,
bitter waves broke on my body,
humbled, barely I found the exit from this crossroad. confused at the gate of humanity,

it was fate,

I entered the oasis of good people,
silence which drunks ,rooted were the nobles of society,
sounds of lira awakened sleeping love,
believed I should be,
being accompanied by the melody of the time eternity.

WORLD resides here…

I, unfed,
being with bone and skin,
unexpectedly found myself,
at destitute,
in this chimney,
generosity nest welcomes ,
warm, human, offered me a dining table,
found the shelter of morsel,
warm bread, generous spirit.

Seated are, eyes wander,
I feel excited as well,
how to eat a morsel,
of the young children!
but,
intestines betray me,
like a late autumn storm,
sounds cover the chamber,
eyeing me pithily,
smile greets me,
you are hungry, have another mouthful!

Manfully braved,
old woman a real Lady,
at the corner seated ,
is silent,,
eyes down as though sleeps,
near the stove feeding with poverty.

-Strange is pleasure for her-…
Feelings,
are made open sea,
stormy unprecedented,
I heard,
Molière* left barefoot,
as far as the nobility of society,
beyond the bourgeoisie appetite!

Our, never fed,
hand stretched thin hand, feeble,
Beyond the legend of maize,
watchful,
Migjeni* found peace in his youth …

Now,
lying is twilight,
covered has human shame,
out of poverty,
wander mundane talkative,
they are rude,
like the greedy darkness.
I
I accuse myself,
being a part of human orgy …

*Migjeni-Albanian writer..
*Moliere-French writer

MY NATURE

For God’s sake, I see nothing,
strong fog blinded me,
dripping wet hair,
trying to find her in the late hours.

I break legs, in the stone bridge,
fed up with lies,
below, I hear the sound of water,
mystical fog worries me.

Alone in this space,
In the cursed surroundings,
suddenly nearby I heard steps…
turn back, trying to understand,
made all ears, I do listen,
no no I scream, no do not go,
in the distance steps disappear..

Feelings must be removed,
away, as far away from me,
from the head, hand, from within,
this heavy pyramid!

Whistling I try to sing ,
sing my faithful song,
Wish you were here *.

I can not, force is delivered,
sat on the edge of the bridge
cold is unknown, I do not feel,
I am wet, I know,
wet, from the wild rain,
soaked in spirit.

They are inserted under my skin,
blinded thoughts have embraced me.

I recall hidden and trustful relaxation,
breathe deeply,
calm down, eyes closed,
it’s me and loyalty,
suddenly,
F I stood up,
secretly exceed worries
went to nearby bar,
near the path of love,
a coffee, please,
quiet,
confident in myself,
embraced the world
my beautiful world ..

* Pink Floyd

Etiketa: poems, tyran prizren spahiu