Glass ship

To accept your swollen shame,

Illusory reputation,

Formal tradition,

Unstable knowledge,

Unclear facts of non-planned defeat,

accelerating presence – dilatory past,

Missed call,

Fuzzy thought,

An essay from the times of fire and volcanoes,

Shrinking size and

Enlarging significance...

To sail in on the glass ship !

With chipped memory,

Followed by music.

To pick up the fruit of inspiration.

Legend about rituals during festivity of leaving homeland !

To cry without emotional illusion and unstable memory!

To sail on by the glass ship,

To exchange divine dreams with dignity !

To intoxicate with the sides of the world which are going to occur...

To be the victim of the short century !

And not to experience a half of the pleasure.

The flowers are opening their petals craving for nostrils.

With the imposed stability

We left the small trails on the roads of life.

Maybe we could revive in some descendant !

Optimism gives strength to persisting knowledge.

Patience leads to taking offence.

The day of new faiths is rising!

Eyes made of glass craving to glow.

Evaporating scent of the urinated hourglass.

Flash of the jewelry is mocking human greed.

Handmade items are not based on simplicity

Of inner happiness, but the treasure of truth.

To water the tree of life with laughter !

By exalted content, the poem made of glass

Will cruise together with the sailor of the glass ship

To the bay on the other side.

Glass woman is sailing across the crystal sea !

***

The speaking book

I wish I could write a book which could speak.

Speak with my words, using my voice.

Music could be heard from that book,

Sounds of supper, invitation of small breasts for staying overnight.

Somebody’s smile, charming for sure, mocking maybe.

In this wrong century.

Time is eroding my book covers.

A book is the heart without armor,

Prone to twitching, fragile and unpredictable.

Who knows how many children would resemble me

If I only could, if I only dare

My step into stepping out to take.

I am a flower on inaccessible slope.

On the other side of all cravings.

We cannot kill animals within us.

The eyes are born with lenity of the God’s grace.

The most beautiful things are done silently.

If we wanted, we could take sacred paths.

However, there are no empty pages.

That’s my book.

***

Tatjana Debeljački née le 23 avril 1967, poète et journaliste serbe, elle écrit de la poésie, des histoires courtes, des histoires et des haïku. Elle est membre de l'Association des écrivains de Serbie-UKS depuis 2004. Elle dirige la société éditrice serbe d'Haiku et adjointe de la revue Diogen. Elle est également le rédactrice en chef du magazine Poeta. Elle a déjà publié quatre livres de poésie. Voir aussi : Hammer & Anvil Books. Page officielle : https://www.facebook.com/debeljackitatjana

Tatjana Debeljački (23 /04/ 1967). She writes poetry, short stories, stories and haiku. She is a Member of Association of Writers of Serbia -UKS since 2004. She is Haiku Society of Serbia- Deputy editor of Diogen. She also is the editor of the magazine Poeta. She has four books of poetry published. See more : Hammer & Anvil Books.

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