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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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.
