(the painting is a gift from my son)
My book
this book,
the earring in my lung,
the cherries
the cherries
and the blood spot.
My God
my God
forget me not!
the flower
the flower?
or the blood spot.
The lighthouse
that floats
on the iris of my eye
this stem that strangles me
is that I
The pool
the river
this sanitary thought
hanging
hanging
at the back of my throat
Mother
my mother
did you see?!
this beating
this beating
within and against me!
Your face,
that smile
a pin in my brain
Mother
my mother
take me home sane!
The chair of your voice
I drink from my mug
Billy!
Billy!
My hands are are cut!
ouch, i felt this one.
very good. i like the repetition because it gives a musicality to your poems that i do not often hear. experimenting?
or is arguing becoming harmony by now?
No, no experimenting.
The beat is real and is mine.
The poem is not new though, this is the second time I put it in the blog, I just can strongly relate to it at times and it absorbs all my bitterness. Thanks for dropping by!
Very powerful. I enjoyed every verse.
Thank you!
This is one of the three poems I like from all I have in the blog.
couldn’t just walk by. Beautiful and dramatical.
Thank you!
I wonder though, what one thinks when reading it?
When reading, I was thinking: gosh, why is she suffering that much?
fan i kesaj faqeje. poezi shume e bukur e katile. drame me vete. loved it.
I drink from my mug
Billy!
Billy!
My hands are are cut!
Faleminderit.
Une futem ketu shume rralle dhe sapo e pashe komentin, nje muaj me vonese.
Po ti si e gjete kete blog?
Lady, you got some style!
Love it!
-a-
Thank you, very kind words.
There’s not much to come in the future though,
well, not for the near one at least.