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Poetry

The call of childhood is still
Under the self tunes
Nature's gold

Luxurious crimson beauty
I was looking for
Sorrow
Yellow shorts
Autumn canvas
Symmetry
White lilac love

Some poems published in other collections of poetry
Some online magazines published poetry  - more...


Lupércio Mundim Special Award

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The call of childhood is still


I saw a carefree child
with a velvet teddybear
in hand.
I remembered my beautiful dolls
colourful in lace.
It's funny that I can't hear the call
and don't notice
that there still exist
in my old haunts
glass eyes and stiff
smiles
immovable in transit
an unfulfilled wish
for play.
The days of my childhood are dead
and I am glad and don't cry
only my soul cries quietly
and tightens with pain
because we have grown up
too quickly.

14.09.1972
Published by
Magazine Tina 1972 (Croatian version only)
 

 

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Under the self tunes


Between the skies and the ground,
above a misty surface pond,
with frost the life is bound;
it still does not respond.

Sleepy sweet buds evaporate
hidden future generation powers,
waiting for the right time to explode
in  magic, beautiful springtime flowers.

Old mill wheel motivated with the rapid cold
is collecting few grains between area
of the empty, old, rotten millstone
and miller’s memories to be told.

Time resounds like a chime,
neither any pointer will ever be back.
New season wants to show its own prime:
new and old smells, colors, sounds, with no lack.

First ladybirds soon will spread translucent wings,
butterflies gimped within their cocoons,
spiders will play on their own strings;
nature is under the self tunes.



 

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Nature’s gold


I’d like to ponder about my solitary nature
looking at unique daffodils
and their magic structure.

Scene and sense of unity with nature’s gold,
recollection of loneliness in oneness
where beauty does unfold.

Tranquility in life, in my dream and death,
flowers’ beauty that always was able
to take away my breath.

Nothing’s more important, nothing’s there
with my satisfaction to be compared;
this moment was too rare.

Smell, colors and all of my reaction,
to see again next to the water
this God’s attraction.

 

 

Luxurious crimson beauty


Early morning;
dawn, luxurious crimson beauty,
A broad windy laughter warning,
sensitive and wistful response,
sunshine truth, a mystical sconce.

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I was looking for


This morning I was looking for
your brown gaze
between the poplar-tree branches
just awoken
with the first bird
s.
 

 

 

Sorrow


Silent rain murmurs.
Drops are skipping
Along the umbrellas.
Almost noiseless
Street becomes empty
Shivering sparrow under the eaves
Cascade of water flows over the gutters.
It is vastly. The town is covered
With overflowed sorrow
In the drops which are
Washing away
Memories
And dreams.
 

 

 

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A musician Neven Duzevic made a song from this poem,
English and Croatian language.
It will be presented on his next CD. Thank  you
Neven.

 

Yellow shorts

I know this strange feeling
When everything’s revealing
My little silly
Because I love, love you really.

You little silly, don’t hide your sweet smile,
Don’t be afraid of my feelings
This is not, this is not your style.

You little silly who are looking divine,
You are mine, you are mine,
You are mine….

Old bikes will be roaming
The wind your hairs will be combing
And we will explore again, and again…
Under the clouds, under the rain, our lane
In winter and springtime, summer and fall
My little doll, little doll.

Your yellow shorts is so sweet
and your new blouse is so neat
Your blue eyes shiny and your lips like a rose
I love you crazy my little lazy, please don’t repose.
Please push on your pedal
It is no for a medal
Just for love, just for love
My sweet dove.

You little silly who are looking divine,
You are mine, you are mine,
You are mine.

Composer Neven Duzevic, who plays and sings, changed, with my permission
the poem title to Pony Express



Dylan Pony Expres / Neven Duzevic /Sonja Smolec


 

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Autumn canvas


Morning.
Few birds
on their way.

Sweet sound of your violin
diffused over leaves
mesmerized me.

Wood,
like a saucer full of secrets
coloured
with
God’s
paint-brush.
 

 

Life-s Echo
 

You can order it from

Barnes&Noble
and many others Internet bookshops
 

 

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Collections of poetry
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The old


To live life
for old age
and calm
in final bliss
behind all that is past
and to stay with this aim
towards which we have lived
to find beauty,
the existence of love.


Published in the
Collection of poems Poesis, (Croatian version only)

Poesis
Karlovac 1980

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Symmetry


You turned rivers to flow way back north,
and hurricanes into a refreshing gentle breeze,
you sent volcanoes down to earth's core
and falling leaves back to their trees.

You dressed me the white of cotton and silk
wishing to slowly undress me again,
telling me jokes till tears filled my eyes
and turning the Olympus for me to a glen.

Every day you gave me a new piece of sun
warm and bright seated onto my open palms,
every day a new sheet covered with words
as precious to me as the Book of David's psalms.

 

This poem is published in this e-book,
collection of poetry

Love is... But a Metaphore
by B. Chandler, USA, Virginia, 2008

 

Love is...

 

 


 

 

 

 

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White lilac love


Evaporating buds tint soft spring’s light
while lilac waits, and then explodes in style
effusing colors hidden in the white.

I, in the garden, happy is my smile,
inhaling nature’s scents and its sensation
touching my true love’s petals so fragile.

A breeze’s lullaby and soft vibration
is dandling flowers which on branches huddle
and gently kisses wreaths into creation.

Then sudden memories... I need to cuddle...
beneath the lilac’s bush with shadows meeting,
I melt in your embrace, my flesh a puddle,

My pain profound, my lungs a life defeating,
my heart is lonesome, longing, softly beating.

 

 


This poem and poems

Lacy afternoon
Our bench
It is so hard to be a poet

are published in this e-book,
collection of poetry

The Four Seasons of Poetry
by B. Chandler, USA, Virginia, 2008

 

the Four Seasons of Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

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Vlas tot Goud.Flax to Gold

August, 2009 in the New Publication, KREATIV SA:

By

KREATIV SA
POSBUS.PO BOX 4404
GEORGE-OOS.GEORGE EAST
6539
SUID-AFRIKA.SOUTH AFRICA

They published my poems

To reach the Sun
Shittim

 

Flax to Gold

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Online magazines
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Artella's Poetry - USA, Hawaii

Silver bells (2007)
Golden grape-vine (2008)
Exordium (2008)

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Cyclamens and Swords Publishing - Israel

Theme: Genesis, November, 2008
 

Bereshit


and the land was without form and the land was barren and thirsty...

When the first seed found its nest
it was an apple...
and when the first ripe fruit
split from the tree
it broke into two equal parts.

Who are you?
The first qestion
from the first man
to the new creation in the land.

She smiled, blushing, taking a leaf
to cover her beauty.

I am woman.
You are?... What?
No, I am woman.

What are you doing in my apple?
I was just born. And what are you doing in my apple?
He started to lick his lips
fresh apple juice dripping into them
his thirst stronger and stronger.

I am dizzy, he said.
Are you going to die?
Yes...

And she dug a deep hole in the ground
and planted her tears one by one
and the hard stone broke under the salt
and spring's waters poured out
to quench their thirst
spraying the skies, flooding the earth, raging like a tide,
and new love was born.

 
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Octopus


Long ago,
way away in the past
before grass and flowers and butterflies,
before dinosaurs,
when the creator started to unite all those leaking water puddles
into the ocean of life
and after all his hard days of work on the creation
something was still missing...
love.

He took part of his heart,
found the best, clearest water
and laid it there,
kissing it once
then, unable to resist, kissing it a second time,
each warm kiss encroaching the dark, red piece,
and new life growing inside
expanding,
a pulsating new heart
surrounded with popping bubbles of oxygen,
finally exploding in two parts
forever connected with the breath of love.

They weren't born the same day.
Twins?
Floating together, reaching to each other with new tentacles
(it wasn't enough... not enough of them.. just four, just four...)
touching slowly one by one,
nibbling them between sharp teeth,
kissing one by one,
crawling inside each other's skin,
searching and sipping their jelly entrails,
swimming, moving in circles,
coming closer and closer as if still just one,
always young.

Their shivers heated the water,
and the water started to boil away,
and first clouds washed over the barren land,
and first rainbows connected skies to earth
over cascading waterfalls,
and butterflies started stealing rainbows' colors
soaking them into pale wings
and sipping first poppy's sweet nectar,

And new he spread his tentacles reaching Nova for new her
creating a new Universe just for them.

 

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Cyclamens and Swords Publishing - Israel

Theme: Music, August 2010

Poems:

Theme
Moonlight sonata

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mediterranean.nu - Sweden

Theme: Mediterranean
, January 24, 2010

Poems:

Some distant shores
Room with a view, postcard

 

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All rights reserved, © Sonja Smolec.
Copying without permission for non-personal use is forbidden.
 

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This page was uploaded for the first time March 28 2005
Last update 12.07.2015