JUST A DAY...

Just an ordinary day
to some not so ordinary
so I won't be boring
and repeat myself
too much...
-
I'll just bring you verses and rose petals today and tomorrow
and yesterday...
-
Because every day we love
is so special...

Once when there will be  
nothing—  
no universe, no God, no people,  
only we remain,  
and our mad kisses...

WHEN I LOVE YOU, JUST LIKE THIS...
-
When I love you
just like this
Immensely
I am an asteroid from the depths of space
that hits your chest
-
All movies and fantasy heroes
don't have such power
when I love you
just like this
very
blindly
crazy to the point of pain...
-
Because when I love you
just like this
I give myself completely
and don't ask
if you love me too
just like this...

POEM**  

Alone, alone  
and you are somewhere, alone  
alone  
searching for letters  
...the poem is like a woman  
       washing her hair in waterfalls  
she doesn’t know  
   that every drop, fleeing into the world,  
becomes waterfalls  
carrying me to your heart  
quietly  
thundering  
...like lightning under a cloudless sky  
but this is only  
....just another  
poem

Lomim eter
teškim slogovima
brišući suze nikad isplakane
rubom tvog  blještavog korzeta
dok se naš gnjev rađa iznova
kao trnovita ruža klizi iz pepela
...
dok ti trgam podsuknje podstavljene lažima,skupljane stoljećima
grizem ti grudi očajom beskučnika,žedan strasti spram života koji
nas neumutno mimoilazi i kao zvijezda repatica proleće bez osvrtanja
...ja udaram u tvoja stegna poput ratnog bubnjara a ti zagrizaš jako i
bez milosti moje rame kao krvnik bez poveza ,sjekutićima prekidaš tanku
liniju koja spaja dva oprećna svijeta,ja svijetlost a ti tama , ja cio svemir a
ti sama...  I dok ioni dobivaju sve moguće predznake, na površini tvoje skliske
kože skuplja se sva energija prvobitnog...trenje prozvodi silu jaču od
bezvrijednih riječi,uzaludnih misli,nepotrebnih stremljenja...
i razlivam se u tvoju nutruinu  poput pastorale u duginim bojama,
razlivam se po praiskononskoj iskri kozmosa a ludi sjaj u kutu oka bljedi
i padam nićice,čekajuči topli cijelov iznad luka mojih obrva...
otapaju se polovi, gore šume i igraju se djeca negdje lovice, potresi se gube
ispod tvojih stopala dok odlaziš nazad u svoj mrak... gavran kljuca
na vrhu vješala..ja tonem nazad u san..prizivajući feniksa
trava je narasla još milimetar,more miriše na proliveni merlot,
u znojnoj ruci držim tvoj poderani grudnjak
zureći u pravilne redove spiralne čipke
nestajem i ja...sa prvim zrakama odnosi me sunce što se rađa
a  mjesec se gubi postajući neželjenim svjedokom...
—
Prometej sam
donosim vatru
u tvoju postelju
i okrijepu
nadu
da možda jednom
neće umrijeti dan
samo će se izgubiti
u labirintu naših udova
još jedan maleni san...

Bura

Hladnoća me opija
klizi niz kičmu lagano
do solarnog pleksusa
vrti spiralu vremena
i prvih stremljenja…

Bura udara u svom nesmiljenom bijesu ,čisti prljave ulice, još prljavije duše
nosi sve pred sobom , negdje već…
-U svom toplom kaputu ipak se zbijaš uz mene, ispod vunene kapice vire
samo crveni obraščići i leden vrh nosića.
-Nije neki dan za šetnju pomislim, al nije me briga, dok god se pripijaš uz mene
vjetar mi ne može ništa.
-Jedan veliki bor uz obalu ponosno se odupire buri, savija se , lomi, ali opet uspravlja
i šepuri pred olujom.
-Zastaješ, guraš me ispod mirisnih iglica ,naslanjamo se na golo deblo …ljubim ti vrh nosa
grlim obraze rukama, grijem ih, ljubim promrzle usne do krvi, upijam bistrinu života
u najčišćem, najnesputanijem obliku, guraš mi ruke ispod majice, hladne su i tople
istovremeno
i ja zatvaram oči, neki val , ljut što ga ne primjećujemo baca se na hrid i razbija o nju, kapljice
nošene vjetrom padaju na nas kao mala sleđena koplja, ali nas nije briga, uspavani na milijun godina
u tom jednom trenu, združeni u igri vjetra, mora, opijeni mirisom joda i borovine, ukopani čvrsto
u crvenu zemlju ispod nas… samo tražimo da nas svemir ostavi na miru, barem taj jedan tren
dok stvaramo peti element…

Good morning,  
sleepy souls—  
peel off the night’s masks,  
slip on the day’s,  
and keep wandering through life  
as if you’re the first  
and the last...  

Or pause for a beat,  
glance over your shoulder—  
you might spot something new,  
something  
not yet inked...  

Kiss your own palm,  
your mother’s fingers,  
or the cheek of your greatest love.  
But what is that love,  
the deepest one?  
Likely, it’s never been  
written...  

Good morning, writers—  
try.  
Maybe today you’ll catch it,  
between butterfly wings
or in the blink of an eye:  
the one  
still unwritten...

THE JOURNEY

It begins even before the first scream in the maternity ward and lasts without interruption, we rush through life with uncertain steps, looking for a goal...
a little to the right, a little to the left, up, down, we stumble over bumps, scattered stones, we slip, we get up and travel on...
If we are persistent enough, in time we master the balance, and the goal seems achievable, but challenges are there, they lure us, happiness, they want to throw us into their flow, their paths...
I have been traveling like this for a long time, small under the sky but bigger than stars, galaxies, black holes...
I realized that the beauty is in the journey, not in the goal, sometimes tired, sometimes happy, slow, fast, I travel
I kiss, cry, love, grieve and rejoice in every new step...
I don't need a map, signposts, sages or gurus, just the freedom to think for myself, a little love from my loved ones to push me when the climb is too hard, to lend a hand, find strength and carry them on the wave of my filled  sails...
nothing is just black or just white, every path has its shadow, but the sun always rises and sets somewhere, follow the light that awakens on the horizon and you can't go wrong...
Travel............

UNDER PRESSURE

To write anything
to push the clouds out of my mind
I remember
what it was like to kiss
someone you love for the first time
really
not as passionately, crazy
as a bee on a daisy flower
without pressure
optional
and so crazy
new
primordial...
-
Under pressure
to write again, something deep
to carve myself into your heart
wide
while the gloomy clouds tighten around me
I give in
and write too much
and write
and erase...
-
Under pressure
I realize
only the little things matter
so I give in
and let the letters
fly
just like the first kiss
the one
that made the planet
turn upside down...

I would like to write
only love poems
a short haiku
something like, I kissed your shoulder
and you smiled
but I don't know
if you turned around, asked why
...
I gently weave love into your hair
I kiss your bare foot
I whisper lies
that you would like now
and enjoy the sight
of your blossoming body..
-
I would
but actually I still don't know
what you would Like
so I pretend to be happy
while I kiss your back
and find that little hole
between your shoulder blades..
-
I would
but it doesn't matter
what I would like
just ask me once
why?

I watched you last night. In a dream. Sad. Dead.
In the fatal hall, in the idyll of flowers,
On a high bier, in the agony of candles,
Ready to give you my life as a sacrifice.

I did not cry. I did not. I stood stunned
In the fatal hall, full of beautiful death,
Doubting that dark eyes are clear,
Where a better life once shone for me.

Everything, everything is dead: eyes, breath and hands,
Everything that I desperately wanted to revive
In blind terror and in the passion of torment,
In the fatal hall, with thoughts in gray.
Only your hair was still alive,
So he said to me: – Be still! In death one dreams...

I Search for You**  

I search for you  
follow with my gaze  
in some unknown  
point  
where infinity and origin  
merge  
love is not  
just a quest...  

Through the boundless internet, future and past,  
somewhere sandy—morning coffee, black without sugar,  
on the shore of an ocean or a quiet small sea,  
perhaps beneath city lights or amidst grenades and shattered buildings  
I search for you, scan the marine sand,  
traces of your barefoot steps and a heart etched by reeds  
in the tail of a starfish, in molecules torn to atoms  
in everything and somewhere beyond...  

I search for you  
elements  
if this is love  
or mere longing  
but you must exist somewhere  
you, the only one  
the one meant for me  
and I, for you  
created...  

---

THE DAY AFTER

When all the roses wither
the chocolate hearts melt
and the colorful balloons fly away
we are left alone
and the ether
full of unspoken words
maybe hidden, a smile in the darkness...
-
Cannons remain
in the mud of a buried quarrel
uncertainty
what would have been, and how it would be
a palm full of sweat
masks
and without masks
when we just look at each other from under the eye
unwritten letters...
-
an hour, a day or more days later
when the bells ring
and all the gifts are from yesterday
and we sink into today
the road is still long
and our legs tremble
while many questions float...
-
were the stars brighter
did my lips kiss you better
and the music clearer
or were we just waiting for the day after...
-
for Valentine's Day
and all the funny holidays
people will always
love and hate each other the same
I don't need an excuse
that you  I prepare breakfast
while you still dream
that you are in my safe hands
hidden from the world
where there are no guns
nor price increases
lies and deception
...
the day after
raise your right eyebrow high
look at me from under your eyelashes
and let's head towards the sun
down our famous street
step by step
patiently
there are many holes on the road to heaven
we need to jump over them all
or maybe we can
forget the road
to heaven
and just love each other....