The birth of a poem...

The essence of very tiny detail, like a carefully placed comma, or an invisible sigh of admiration, distilled into dewdrops sliding over the long green leaves that protect tulips from overexposure, redeeming the beautiful bold color and adding a dimension of its own.

Then letting it go into thin air, like a weightless particle,arriving in far-away places, like a carefully thought-out idea, a blissful singular event, a flash of infinitesimal brightness, arriving at noon, completely negating shadows and at the same time completely absolving them.

The reign of calm arrived with these words and it is here to stay...



Thursday, September 4, 2008

Urban Contemplations


This is an old post, from an old blog, I am recycling it, because I like it...
My city, my life, and me.. :)


Urban Contemplations

Once someone told me that my poems are “thoughts wearing gucci”… (I really like this, although I am not sure it’s a compliment.)
Today my thoughts are wearing saffron robes and sandals, as I walk this city, my city…and the sun allows no room for designer labels, only simplicity and humble meditations…
These streets, these bulidings, this river, these bridges, the park, the fortress…my life is inscribed all over the place, a palimpsest of steps and layers from my early schooldays all the way to these lonely days when I still have a lot to learn..
I used to run carefree, from appointment to appointment, from school to English classes, to the poetry club, then home again…
Then a brief visit to the States, and the cultural shock as I came home to find the buildings of Skopje resembling dwarves as compared to the skyscrapers of Minneapolis.
Then on to University, fortifying my knowledge of English, learning patience with eccentric old professors and erratic traffic, discovering the relative meaning of “silence” in our libraries; discovering the unforgettable experience of preparing exams under the pinewood trees in front of the fortress…
Falling in love with poetry forever, falling in love…losing some ideals and losing lots of illusions…
Translating in the whirlwind of conflicts and wars and bombardments in the vicinity, not really knowing what sort of madness is unfolding in the skies, but doing my duty, allowing for communication to flow in the hope that understanding is a part of the steps that bring peace…
Discovering my favourite rock café, already a part of me for ten years, on and off, learning a lot about music, falling in love again…spectacular failures..
Surviving another conflict and accepting the reality that the chaos of diversity in Skopje will be our reality, seeing people change over night, but trying to maintain my integrity…
Discovering the peace of the park and the quiet flow of the river Vardar and the breath taking views of mount Vodno, allowing for meditations, focus and mindfulness…
My occupation recently tied me up to this pc, and I have been neglecting my city…reading the accounts of travellers from the 19c to the present days who have discovered this city fills me with a mix of pride and humility.
Sometimes it takes a stranger, an eye of an observant outsider to make me open my eyes and see new layers of this city, from a different perspective and fall for it again, and shut the pc down and go explore, a labyrinth of memories subconsciously left as traces…
This is the city of solidarity, after all, destroyed by an earthquake more than 40 years ago, rebuilt by the world, a pastiche of the greatest architects’ projects and “temporary shelter bulidings” that stand to this day, and the clock of the old railway station stuck at the time of the quake…
Skopje, the birthplace of Mother Teresa, (not many people know that!)- this is where she made her first steps…
Now as I pass by her monument, I try to be grateful, and I remember again, I still have a lot to learn…
Not pride, though. Like a good girl from the Balkans, it’s instilled in me, it runs through my veins and it is not something I can easily articulate, but it is there, as firm as the ground beneath my feet and as far from the virtual world that has kept my eyes closed for a while…
I belong in the real world, living poetry…and although I will always be virtually yours,
If you need me, this is where you can find me

Sunday, June 29, 2008

un tentativo poetico/ a poetic attempt

Ho aperto il mio cuore e tu sei stato dentro, visitando tutte le stanze, anche le più segrete. Hai vissuto il mio dolore, la mia gioia, la mia vita con le mie parole sincere, hai capito il mio punto di vista e mi hai dato una forza per andare avanti…
E poi sei scappato via, lasciando la porta aperta, con il vento freddo, che chiude la porta definitivamente. E io non ti cerco, non corro seguendo le tue tracce... Ho già sentito il sogno più bello, ho sentito l’abbraccio, ma è arrivato il tempo per sogni nuovi..

Ti ho visto sveglio a parlare con le tue lune chiare; ci sono tante lune nel tuo cielo, e tu l’unico sole - non c’è tramonto, neanche l’eclissi. Chissà, forse anche per te c’è una porta chiusa dentro, nel tuo cuore e la chiave non c’è con te…E il tuo modo di andare avanti, per sfogare l’aria soffocante e scrivere delle vecchie ferite, perchè c’è sempre speranza , anche per un attimo, perchè il tuo dolore vero ti dà la libertà di essere vivo, di sentirti amato, come ognuno di noi con il cuore rubato, spezzato, staccato, vuoto…

E io ho usato il mio modo, un modo evidentemente sbagliato, e adesso raccolgo lezioni dal profondo silenzio che merito... Ho deciso di andare avanti senza di te, cercando altri cuori che mi chiamano, per aiutarci, per superare tutto e vedere il nuovo giorno con calma…


E tu? Che sia una vita felice per te…è un sollievo dirtelo, anche se non mi credi, io sento la tua mancanza, come per il sole, ma so che sono rimasta come amica-stella, nella costellazione lontana…è una consolazione tremenda saperlo.
Anche tu hai tante parole, e scrivi le poesie più belle e lo stesso vale per me…La vita è una dura prova, ma serve e non è sempre come dicono il poeti, e non e sempre cosi semplice svegliarsi e non accorgersi della bellezza del sole. E io pago nel buio per non essere grata per la presenza del sole, ma c’è sempre la speranza che arriva il sole nuovo…
Biljana
****

I opened my heart to you and you’ve been inside, visiting all rooms, even the most secret of rooms…You’ve seen my pain, my joy, my life, with my sincere words, and you’ve seen my point of view, giving me strength to go on…
Then you ran way, leaving the door open, with the cold wind, closing the door definitely. And I won’t look for you, I won’t run after you, in pursuit of the tracks you left. I’ve already savored the most beautiful dream, I felt your embrace, but the time has come to dream new dreams…

I’ve seen you awake, talking to your moons so clear, there’re so many moons on your sky and you’re the only sun- there’s no sunset, nor there’s an eclipse… Who knows, maybe even you have a door closed inside your heart, and the key is not with you…And it’s your way of going on, of venting the suffocating air and writing about old wounds..because there’s always hope, even for a moment, that your true pain gives you the freedom to be alive, to feel loved, just like the rest of us, with hearts stolen, broken, detached, empty…

And I used my way, obviously so wrong, so now I reap the lessons in the profound silence I deserve…I decided to go on without you, looking for other hearts that call me, for help, for surpassing everything and seeing the new day in calm…
And you? May you live a happy life..it’s a relief to tell you, even though you don’t believe.. I feel your absence, like the absence of the sun, but I know I remain a friend, a star in a constellation far away…and this gives me tremendous consolation.
You also have many words and you write the most beautiful poems, just like me…Life, though is hard evidence, and it serves a purpose, to realize it’s not always the way the poets say, and it’s not that simple to wake up unaware of the beauty of the sun…I pay my dues in darkness for not being grateful for its presence, but there’s always hope for the arrival of a new sun…
Biljana