If I kissed you
With only one word
Maybe that word would have died
Inside of you
But I've kissed you
With all my words
For you to be the miracle
Who expresses them
And if I kissed you with a question
Maybe you would have pleased me
With another kiss

The reality of your dream
Is a mask turned backward
Black over white, black over white
Love over pain ,love over pain.
Hey, take me to yourself.
The dream of my reality
Is the backward of that mask
Turned backward
White over black, white over black
Pain over love ,pain over love.
Hey,come to myself.
Come to self in self
In that place where
Everything can be
Black and white when is taken from us
Or white and black when is given to us.
Love and pain when is given to us.
Or pain and love when is taken from us.

Look to the mask
Intangible
Me
And
You

Always the same

Looking for myself
Through you
And looking for yourself
Through me.

In that place where
Everything can be
Sometimes
Black without white and white without black
Or pain without love and love without pain

In losing control.

Like a tired eyelid was your deep last
thought, or like an eye of water being  
darkened by a shadowing cloud. Like
a tear and a stargazer lily smelled your
  
gaze. Like sadness and longing your last
smile longed for love .You were my love
embrace. Between me and Jesus, only
you were my awakening, while you were in
  
leaving to be with Him through a last pray.
I followed you on the Way of Love as a
prayer. God started to send His rain of grief
from His heaven inside of us. I was able to
  
see you in that Light. How beautiful you were
in that sense of life. He allowed me to hope
this love would never end. I woke up alone.
The rain was beating against my window.

An all-seeing eye of cosmos opened
within me having an epistemic sense of
power. The rain trickled down the oval-shaped

wet window. 'Twasn't a blue eye, yet 'twas bluing.

The blues of the stars
were trickling
out of their core. Over
your tasting part of the tongue full of sensations
about itself, suffering words
struck the silence between us. I could not
comprehend their sense- their meaning

sank in the sadness of the rain.

The blues were absorbed by this rising dreariness.
I couldn't see you. Nor could I
achieve the tranquility of mind. However,
I might presume that God might see this.

(Geraldine was walking on the deck while waiting nervously for Fredrick. Frederick appeared suddenly while speaking quickly and gesturing.)

''I've waited for you all day long to come up with fuel.''
''I went to buy charcoal, water and outdoor lamp oil.
At a crossroad, I saw a stage driver being so cruel
To whip his horses to run faster; the oil spilled on the soil.

He drove a stagecoach; my horse was frightened by the sound
And my trolley overturned. I had to come back to buy
Again three barrels of oil.'' ''That oil spilled on the ground, ''
Said Geraldine, ''the money has gone, and this is not a lie! ''

I don't ask you to tell me where you really spent the money
It makes no sense to ask you for the truth. Is she beautiful?
Did you have a good time? To wash laundry in public, honey,
You may bring her here. This way, you can be dutiful.''

''I love you, '' screamed Frederick, '' so, you think you're funny.''
''Well, I may be funny although I'm never stupid.''
He held her, ''I sold some jewels. Take the money.
I could lie to you, but you're the one. I'm down with Cupid.''


''Do you remember that man having a ring with a skull? ''
''You've met him in Constantinople, '' ''I've met him here, too.
He was in that stagecoach liking this way his horses to cull.''
He laughed saying, ''I'm a captain in search for my crew.''

''Frederick, I want to return home at Khadjibey.
Do you remember when we've met in the port and you
Gave me an emerald cut gold ring shining at the ray? ''
''I've asked you to marry me, '' ''I love you; you know it's true.''

''Then why do you want to turn back home? '' ''You know I'm scared.''
'' This is our chance. If we turn back in that unknown trading port
For slave markets, I will not survive; I'm not prepared
To ask the sanjak bey some protection and support.


I am Italian and I saw so many things.
I saw the terrible fate of those becoming galley-slaves,
Women enslaved being sexually abused, in sufferings,
But someone living in Khadjibey is a 'plough and a scythe.' ''

'' Is this artwork painted by Paolo de Matteis or not? ''
Asked Francesca coming to them. ''What are you doing here? ''
''We really like to admire that splendid island a lot.''
''Shall we offer them a string instruments' concert, Chiara dear? ''

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

In a red, fire world,
the life colors disappear.
Colors go to naught.

Poem by Marieta Maglas

This is our love ,we need to
recompose its meaning
with the passing of every second.
Love is our poetry ,or
poetry is our love.
Do you need to be yourself?
Do you need me?
Maybe it's hell ,maybe it's heaven,
Maybe it's both of them.
Maybe it's getting zero.
We should burn inside,
but no ,we make it be
our mad paradise.
It's something you should know
before touching me.
You should know
that  love is only Divine.

I see my snowy steps disappearing into the
snow. The coldness will swallow them.
The wet winces the snow, wetter than any wince.

I am more involved in a sharp snowless stretch
than I was ever. I forgot that I'm existent.I try
to remember. A cloud is tossing its white to rain.

Nothing never rains outside, everything rains
inside. Everything is tossing firstly before raining.
The trees always feel this. They are existent.

The trees need to be existent. This freezing rain
is breaking the tree limbs. Their branches are
encapsulated in glaze ice. I need my steps back.

I hear a song coming from the coffee house. There
is a coffee stain on my right shoe. I take a taxi to go
nowhere. This rain falls down over the snow blanket.

The snow is existent until it becomes a bed for the
falling rain. I can be existent as long as I'm not cold.
This rain is not a tropical one, and I cannot care less.

There is something moving toward. It's my body. There
is something having no beginning and no end. It's the
movement in losing time. Rain and snow need time

to prove their similar personality and their different
appearance.Time is existent. I'm not existent in another
particular time. I can't come into existence twice.

That ship used to carry passengers and some cargo.
'Twas cozy and elegant for the ladies' travel.
The outdoor spaces and the suites were cleaned by Fargo.
Its furniture and artworks were dreams to unravel.


They had tobacco, Indian spices, and old wine,
Making sure that the passengers didn't miss anything.
Searching for food and water, when the stars started to shine,
Freddy hired Maya because she knew to do everything.


Maya was an old woman with black eyes and long, white hair,
And she had a deep, long scar above her upper lip.
The crew got ready to leave the port, feeling despair
In waiting for the last passengers to board the ship.


''She will prepare the meals as a woman of the sea.
She will help you give birth to the child when the time will come.
Why do I sometimes feel like someone is watching me?
He always appears in my way; those moments I'm numb.

He's a tall and a lean man dodging out of my way.
He has three daggers and a gold ring with a boom skull.''
''Sulim said something about a sea wolf, '' ''What did you say? ''
''Ask Sam to follow him, and to put him in a lull.''

''It's dangerous to follow him, '' ''Now, where is his ship? ''
''Near wild shores, or isolated places, well hidden.''
''Due to my accident, I left the army swords that rip.''
''I left my home for you, ' cause this love was forbidden.''

(She started to cry while thinking that her father died because she left the home without his approval to marry Frederick. While crying, she fell asleep. Frederick fell asleep, too, while being worried about their future.)

(to be continued...)


Poem by Marieta Maglas

They wanted to sail on the sea of life.
They built an ideal ship as in dreams.
Frederick and Geraldine, his sweet wife
Began sailing to explore new extremes.

Sometimes, he used to call her ‘’Crystallind.’’
On their ship, they carried good merchandise.
And he taught her to scream in the wind,
Creepy creeps with strong thoughts to harmonize.

He wore glasses, and his blue eyes were eyes
Of loveliness, when she called him ‘’Firstborn.’’
He was as a child, but one wondrous wise,
He had black tresses that were never shorn.

From the watery green, their happiness
Touched the abstracted infinite of the sky-
The land was a thought- ‘twas togetherness
In that place where that much, no bird could fly.

She could do so many things in bad days,
But if she stopped loving him, she would die.
Being pregnant in that garden of praise,
She received a heart emerald thereby.

‘Twas a day to meet the ship of pirates
In searching for treasures in the islands.
She saw the danger through her man’s iris.
The pirates attacked them to take diamonds.

Frederick, the child, leaped inside her womb.
His father and the crew started to fight.
The pirates’ ship went to the waters’ tomb,
And Holy tears was poured on them for light.

(to be continued)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Chiara, Arturo's wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ''Was Quare's invention real? I thought it was a myth.''
'' His barometer measures the pressure of the air.''


Chiara was wearing a red gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.


Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey's limit, through the storms, they would roam.


Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.


Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan, and Erica.


Ivan said, ''Tell me something about these Indians.''
Carla said, ''Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from underwater to be born.''


Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
''The water is fresh in the ollas, I like them a lot.''

She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
''Ahmed and Peter the First! '' replied Cruz, '' tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from far? ''
''I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.''

''Did you lose everything you had? '' Marco asked Ivan.
''To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.''
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
''In Portugal, we'll search for a job in cities and hoods.''

Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa's shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.

( To be continued...)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

You gave me your love,
while that night was pouring down.
I thought it was in Eden, or in dreams.
I could hear the rain whispering your name.
Someone had bled somewhere-
wounds to be sutured.
They weren't lips.
I had learned everything about lips.
I heard the whispers of the White Tree of Gondor.
You kissed me for
kissing, kissing, kissing.
You gave me your blue love,
and I understood that you were mine.
I had you, and I could be myself
(lips- kisses within) .
Someone had bled somewhere-
wounded lips and
sutures-
lips, kisses within.
I stand near you, touching you
and I wanted to stay that way forever.
You didn't ask me to stay
never to leave-
walls, walls, walls.
'Twas for eternity
our love.
You couldn't ask me to stay
again and again.
You gave me your love
again and again.
I waited for the blue rain to whisper
again and again,
You didn't let me wait for my rainbow
again and again,
again and again,
again and again,
again and again,
again and again.
Once more,
'twas the night.
No more,
'twas no more night.
You gave me your love.
Poem by Marieta Maglas

Sometimes I wonder if all my dreams will come true
Because I am sure that this is possible
I am always surprised about life
Like a little child who every day rises
And I hope that God will have opened up his light
Before the evil can hit my dreams.
I am counting upon my thoughts as I am thinking of you
Certainly I am prepared to die at any time
And really ready to live
And I expect nothing in life but the Truth.
I intend to open myself up to the world,
To breathe, and to win
I know indeed everything what I intend to do,
But stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury,
Fury that brings upon the greatest love.
I pretend that everything is wonderful.
And I pretend that
I'm not crying when tears are bleeding down my face.
And I prefer the absurdity of writing poems.
I am who I am
And nothing can change me.

A bird flying
Is a flight in self.

Motion.

It is a movement
In self and
Inward.

It is a cry, too.

I hunt the sound.
I shoot its wing.
I feel that
The air fractures.
Immediately.
The flight is fractured.

I still love you.
For sure, for sure, I still love you.
The feeling slips
In the place,
From where the white bird fell

From the moment
To the eternity.

In that place,
My thought,
Bears your name

And remains

As a red spot on the
Blue sky,
A spot, which could be white.

Forever.

Between eyelids,
Only pain
Can be crushed,
Continuously,
That pain taking another pain
From the agony of death
To death.

Between saints, only
God has
Perfect feelings.
He has our feelings, too.

Imperfect.

We try
To touch Him.

I saw you passing on the other side
of the road. It was raining outside.
The sound of your steps was wet.
You started to call my name. Your
voice knocked at my eye, and I knew
that your love needed  my heart  to
inhabit it every day. You were still
on the other side of  that path of life,
when I realized that you crossed the bridge
in-between us to take me with you.
You climbed the stairs of my soul, and
you met me there inside of everything
may mean 'both of us'. Quite immediately
after  touching me, I knew the reason I
was there. I wanted to meet  my destiny.
Something happened inside as irreversibly
as the passing of the time. You called me twice.

Like a tired eyelid was your deep last
thought, or like an eye of water being
darkened by a shadowing cloud. Like
a tear and a stargazer lily smelled your

gaze. Like sadness and longing your last
smile longed for love. You were my love
embracing. Between me and Jesus, only
you were my awakening, while you were in

leaving to be with Him through a last prayer.
I followed you on the Way of Love as a
prayer. God started to send His rain of grief
from His heaven inside of us. I was able to

see you in that Light. How beautiful you were
in that sense of life. He allowed me to hope
this love would never end. I woke up alone.
The rain was beating against my window.