MorePoezije

Neke se priče pamte, neke se pišu
neke ekraniziraju, a poneke brišu
opet snažne kontinuirano stvaraju
iako i iluzijom sebe i druge varaju.

One su scenarij snova, želja i potreba
armatura željeza, betona i snopova
tvrdi temelj koji utire i gradi smjer
ponekad let ptice, a češće ta zvijer.

Osobne su, tako povezane s drugima
platno obavijeno pogledima, ljudima
mreže osjećaja koje pronalaze put
ulaze u srca, posebice u duše skut.

Pa se ljube i grle jer je jedino to važno
osjećati bliskost tako toplo i snažno
žeđati sve više do mjere da sve boli
pronaći fokus da se nesebično voli.

Bježe i ljute se, izigravaju urnebesno
daju dramaturgiji to najsvetije mjesto
jer igra uma, srca, duše, reakcije tijela
čine mjesta strasno neobično vrela.

Pa sve izgara dok ne počne da tinja
sve naučeno i poznato sa manje rutina
izgubljenost u kojoj se ponovno nalazi
a uvijek isto to novo sretno pronalazi.

Točke i dvotočke, upitnici, uskličnici
interpretacija u toj uskoj maloj uličici
puna rečenica sa bezbroj zareza,pitanja
svako ali postavlja nove sumnje svitanja.

Doživljaj koji se bezgranično množi
oduzima i zbraja u toj vlastitoj koži
postaješ mekan, a prema sebi stroži
svaka te reakcija tako potpiruje i loži.

S ljubavlju, Željka.

Some stories are remembered, some are written,
some get screen-adapted, others erased.
Yet strong ones continuously create,
even as they deceive themselves and
others with illusion.

They are the script of dreams, desires, and needs,
the framework of iron, concrete, and bundles,
a solid foundation that paves and builds direction—
sometimes a bird’s flight, more often that beast.

They are personal, yet tied to others,
a canvas wrapped in gazes, in people,
nets of feelings that find their way,
entering hearts, especially the corners of souls.

So they kiss and embrace, for that’s all that matters to feel closeness so warm and strong,
thirsting for more until it all hurts,
finding focus to love unselfishly.

They flee and rage, playing hilariously,
giving dramaturgy its holiest place,
for the play of mind, heart, soul, body’s reactions
make places passionately, unusually hot.

Everything burns until it starts to smolder,
all learned and known with less routine,
lostness in which one finds anew,
always discovering that same new happiness.

Periods and colons, question marks, exclamations,
interpretations in that narrow little alley,
full sentences with countless commas, questions—
each “but” raises new doubts of dawn.

An experience that multiplies boundlessly,
subtracts and adds in that own skin,
you become soft, yet stricter toward yourself,
every reaction fuels and ignites you so.

With love, Željka.