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Poezija

Rasprava u 'Knjižnica' pokrenuta od Nea, 22. Listopad 2006..

  1. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    U spomen staroj dami:

    Vesna Parun
    Da si blizu

    Da si blizu, naslonila bih čelo
    na tvoj štap i nasmiješena
    ovila bih ruke oko tvojih koljena.
    Ali nisi blizu i moja ljubav za tobom nespokojna
    ne može da usne ni u noćnoj travi
    ni na valu morskom, ni na ljiljanima.
    Da si blizu. Da si barem tako nestalno blizu
    kao kišni oblak nad izgubljenom kućom u dolini.
    Kao nad morem surim krik galeba što odlijeće
    pred dolazak oluje u večer punu briga.
    O da si barem tako tužno blizu
    kao cvijet što spava zatvorenih očiju
    pod bijelim pokrovom snijega u tišini
    kamenih šuma, čekajući proljeće.
    Da si blizu, o moj hladni cvijete.
    Samo jednom kretnjom da si blizu
    neveselim vrtovima mojim
    što već sahnu, klonuli od bdijenja.
    Ali, noć je i svijet je daleko
    a ja ne znam mir tvoj. Ptice moje
    s tvojih su grana sašle. I sjaj zore
    iz mojih zjena odlazi zauvijek
    u uvrijeđenu zemlju zaborava
    u kojoj je neznano ime ljubavi.
     
  2. mari

    mari Novi Član

    Tri dana već za ogradom,
    teška od mladosti,
    čekam tvoj korak u tamnim maslinama.

    Vesna Parun, samo dio pjesme, predivne pjesme o čekanju
     
  3. Psychaki

    Psychaki Gost

    ali ne volimo slam poetry inače kaže?

    ovdje

    Convenience stores /Buddy Wakefield


    We both know the smell of a convenience store at 4 a.m. like the backs
    of alotta hands.
    She sells me trucker crack/Mini-Thins (it's like Vivarin).
    She doesn't make me feel awkward about it.
    She can tell it's been a long drive and it's only gonna get longer.
    Offers me a free cup of coffee, but I never touch the stuff.
    Besides, I'm gonna need more speed than that.

    We notice each other’s smiles immediately.
    It's our favorite thing for people to notice--our smiles.
    It's all either one of us has to offer.
    You can see it in the way our cheeks stretch out like arms
    wanting nothing more than to say, "You are welcome here."

    She--
    shows brittle nicotine teeth with spaces between each one.
    Her fingers are bony, there's no rings on'm, and she'd love to get'er nails done someday.
    One time she had'er hair fixed.
    They took out the grease, made it real big on top, and feathered it.
    She likes it like that.
    She'll never be fully informed on some things just like I will never understand
    who really buys Moon Pies, or those rolling, wrinkled, dried-up sausages.
    But then again, she's been here a lot longer than me.
    She's seen everything
    from men who grow dread locks out of their top lips
    to children who look like cigarettes.

    I give'er my money.
    I wait for my change.
    But I feel like there's something more happening here.

    I feel--
    like a warm mop bucket and dingy tiles that'll never come clean.
    I feel like these freezers cannot be re-stocked often enough.
    I feel like trash cans of candy wrappers
    with soda pop dripping down the wrong side of the plastic.
    I feel like everything just got computerized.
    I feel like she was raised to say a LOT of stupid things about a color.
    And I feel like if I were to identify myself as gay--
    this conversation would stop.

    It's what I do.
    I feel.
    I get scared sometimes.
    And I drive.

    ...But in 1 minute and 48 seconds I'm gonna walk outta here with a full tank of gas, a bottle of Mini-Thins, and a pint of milk while there's a woman still trapped behind a formican counter somewhere in North Dakota who says she wants nothing more than to hear my whole story, all 92,775 miles of it.

    I can feel it though, y'all, she's heard more opinions and trucker small talk than Santa Claus has made kids happy, so I only find the nerve to tell'er the good parts, that she's the kindest thing to happen since Burlington, VT, and I wanna leave it at that because men--who are not smart--have taken it farther, have cradled her up like a nutcracker and made her feel as warm as a high school education on the dusty back road, or a beer, in a coozy.

    I feel like she's been waiting here a long time for the one who'll come 2-steppin'; through that door on 18 wheels without makin'er feel like it's her job to sweep up the nutshells alone when she's done been cracked again, who won't tempt her to suck the wedding ring off his dick, but will show her--simply--LOVE.

    She doesn't need me or any other man but she doesn't know that either, and I'm just hopin' like crazy she doesn't think I'm the one because the only time I'll ever see North Dakota again is in a Van Morrison song late (LATE) at night, I promise.

    Y'all, I feel like she's 37 years old wearing 51 (badly), dying inside (like certain kinds of dances around fires) to speak through you, a forest, if you weren't so taken with sparks.

    But she was never given those words.
    She has not been told she can definitely change the world.
    She knows some folks do
    but not in convenience stores
    and NOT with lottery tickets
    so
    I finally ask'er what I've been feelin' the entire time I've been standin' there

    still
    gettin' scared like I do sometimes
    really (REALLY) ready to drive
    I ask,

    "Is this it for you?
    Is this all you'll ever do?"

    Her smile
    collapsed.

    That tightly strapped-in pasty skin
    went loose.

    Her heart
    fell crooked.

    She said (not knowin' my real name),
    "I can tell, buddy, by the Mini Thins and the way ya drive--

    we're both taken with novelty.

    We've both believed in mean gods.

    We both spend our money on things that break too easily like...

    people.

    And I can tell
    you think you've had it rough
    so especially you should know...

    It's what I do,
    I dream.
    I get high sometimes.
    And I'm gonna roll outta here one day.

    I just might not get to drive."
     
  4. Iksbrown

    Iksbrown Silent protagonist

    Love and Death
    by William Butler Yeats

    Behold the flashing waters
    A cloven dancing jet,
    That from the milk-white marble
    For ever foam and fret;
    Far off in drowsy valleys
    Where the meadow saffrons blow,
    The feet of summer dabble
    In their coiling calm and slow.
    The banks are worn forever
    By a people sadly gay:
    A Titan with loud laughter,
    Made them of fire clay.
    Go ask the springing flowers,
    And the flowing air above,
    What are the twin-born waters,
    And they'll answer Death and Love.

    With wreaths of withered flowers
    Two lonely spirits wait
    With wreaths of withered flowers
    'Fore paradise's gate.
    They may not pass the portal
    Poor earth-enkindled pair,
    Though sad is many a spirit
    To pass and leave them there
    Still staring at their flowers,
    That dull and faded are.
    If one should rise beside thee,
    The other is not far.
    Go ask the youngest angel,
    She will say with bated breath,
    By the door of Mary's garden
    Are the spirits Love and Death.
     
  5. Lord

    Lord Aesir Illuminati

  6. Zoran K

    Zoran K Retardirana rotkvica

    Evo, ja sam napisao jednu pjesmu:

    OBJEKTIVNA KRITIKA

    Čitao sam tvoju poeziju i mogu ti reći
    da je dosadna.

    Dosadna je kao književna večer
    na kojoj sudjeluje skupina starijih ljudi
    uvaženih predstavnika nekog Društva
    koji u životu nisu napisali ništa spomena vrijedno
    ali su bili jako marljivi i uporni
    napredovali u organizacijskoj hijerarhiji
    i dobro se uhljebili.

    Pa sad iz knjiga koje je objavilo to isto društvo
    (a na teret proračuna)
    čitaju svoje pjesme
    napisane bez trunke talenta i imalo muda.

    Oni su redom profesori
    često kroatisti
    recenzije im pišu kolege
    a publiku popunjavaju studenti
    jer svako lizanje dupeta vrijedi barem dva ECTS boda.

    Poslije će mlako pljeskati jedan drugom
    kurtoazije radi
    pa si podijeliti nagrade za životna djela
    i druge isprazne časti

    A ono dvoje nevino zalutalih na njihovu svetkovinu ega
    pitat će se gdje su to došli
    i što im je to u životu trebalo
    da na takvo smeće troše svoje dragocjeno vrijeme.
     
    mrzovoljni trol se sviđa ovo.
  7. Decadent Sympozium

    Decadent Sympozium Prvi anti-heroj Eydisa kao takav

    Lajkam.

    Zato jer poantu ove sirove poezije možemo primijeniti i na akademske radove, a i romančeke.
     
  8. Lord

    Lord Aesir Illuminati

    Zorane, uspio si u poeziji.
     
  9. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    The Way Through the Woods
    Kod:
         They shut the road through the woods
         Seventy years ago.
         Weather and rain have undone it again,
         And now you would never know
         There was once a road through the woods
         Before they planted the trees.
         It is underneath the coppice and heath,
         And the thin anemones.
         Only the keeper sees
         That, where the ring-dove broods,
         And the badgers roll at ease,
         There was once a road through the woods.
    
         Yet, if you enter the woods
         Of a summer evening late,
         When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
         Where the otter whistles his mate
         (They fear not men in the woods
         Because they see so few),
         You will hear the beat of a horse's feet
         And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
         Steadily cantering through
         The misty solitudes,
         As though they perfectly knew
         The old lost road through the woods...
         But there is no road through the woods!
    
    Rewards and Fairies by Rudyard Kipling
     
  10. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    Da sam te ukrao - Zeljko Krznaric
    Da sam te ukrao
    i legao pored tebe
    da li bi ljeto zamirisalo
    kao što tvoja kosa miriše
    da li bi pisalo u mojim pjesmama
    ono što sad ne piše
    kad sam žedan tvojih uspomena
    tvojih godina prije mene
    ljubomoran na sve one
    koji su s tobom dijelili
    sve ono što nisam ja
    da sam te ukrao
    i legao pored tebe
    i ljubio tvoje lijepe prste
    tebe bih isto napravio
    od ljubavi čvrste
    nježnu
    s nebom u očima
    da me pratiš
    i vratiš s neba do sebe
    da sam te ukrao
    možda ne bih imao ništa
    ali bih imao tebe.
     
    Mladen i Sova se ovo sviđa.
  11. mrzovoljni trol

    mrzovoljni trol zombi paladin lvl. 99

    Dorca, jako si nostalgičan u zadnje vrijeme. Misliš li da si trebao birati drugačije?
     
  12. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    to je između mene i mliječnog puta. recimo samo...da mi je izbor oduzet
     
    autumn se sviđa ovo.
  13. Faint Smile

    Faint Smile ilija64

    mislis ostala trudna.
     
    Strahozec se sviđa ovo.
  14. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    ne, ne mislim. sva su moja djeca bila planirana.
     
    Posljednje uređivanje: 20. Ožujak 2017.
  15. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    ovo je bilo prije nego sam poznavao svoju dragu
     
    autumn se sviđa ovo.
  16. autumn

    autumn |-O

    neke tuge nikad se ne prebole
    ubit ce me zbog nje,
    stvari lagane
     
    dorca vorbarra i aasgardium se ovo sviđa.
  17. aasgardium

    aasgardium Eydishan

    Amulić je imao dobrih pjesama.
     
    dorca vorbarra se sviđa ovo.
  18. Lady Charlotte

    Lady Charlotte Sorceress of the Eydis Illuminati

    Pisci čitali pred Ministarstvom kulture, a potom ga zasuli avionima

     
  19. dorca vorbarra

    dorca vorbarra Kiss me

    Branko Miljković: Uzalud je budim

    Budim je zbog sunca koje objašnjava sebe biljkama
    Zbog neba razapetog izmeđju prstiju
    Budim je zbog riječi koje peku grlo
    Volim je ušima treba ići do kraja svijeta i naći rosu na travi
    Budim je zbog dalekih stvari koje liče na ove ovdje
    Zbog ljudi koji bez čela i imena prolaze ulicom
    Zbog anonimnih riječi trgova budim je
    Zbog manufakturnih pejzaža javnih parkova
    Budim je zbog ove naše planete koja će možda
    Biti mina u raskrvavljenom nebu
    Zbog osmjeha u kamenu drugova zaspalih izmeđju dvije bitke
    Kada nebo nije bilo više veliki kavez za ptice nego aerodrom
    Moja ljubav puna drugih je dio zore
    Budim je zbog zore zbog ljubavi zbog sebe zbog drugih
    Budim je mada je to uzaludnije negoli dozivati pticu zauvjek sletjelu
    Sigurno je rekla: neka me traži i vidi da me nema
    Ta žena sa rukama djeteta koju volim
    To dijete zaspalo ne obrisavši suze koje budim
    Uzalud, uzalud, uzalud, uzalud
    Je budim
    Jer će se probuditi drukčija i nova
    Uzalud je budim
    Jer njena usta neće moći da joj kažu
    Uzalud je budim
    Ti znaš voda protiče ali ne kaže ništa
    Uzalud je budim
    Treba obećati izgubljenom imenu nečije lice u pijesku
     
    Sova i Lady Charlotte se ovo sviđa.
  20. mrzovoljni trol

    mrzovoljni trol zombi paladin lvl. 99

    Danijel Dragojević - Sloboda

    Svatko tko je putovao zna da se jabuke nigdje ne jedu
    kao na ulici i trgu nekog stranog grada.
    Vjerojatno zato što grad od vas ništa ne traži,
    ništa mu niste obećali, tamo niste ni dijete ni odrasli,
    bez dobi i obveza zaboravljeni ste i nepoznati,
    udaljeni od vlastita jezika i događaja.
    Sada je kolovoz, kraj kolovoza,
    i ja mislim kako bi bilo lijepo otputovati...
     
    Mladen, Sova, Lord i 1 drugoj osobi se sviđa ovo.

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