Gramps, Who Knocks on Every Single Door

I’m starting to post translated installments of my “Dedica” (Gramps) stories originally published on my native language blog. The first story has been reworked in order not to refer to myself and the dream the old man first appeared in back in 2000; which I am eventually going to do with the original language version as well.

Ugalj / Coal

This is a rework of the poem that was originally named after the first line; and written in April. I wanted to make it better, so it can be a part of the Cordon Sanitaire series. A fairly common structure is a plus.

Noel Gibson / Noelle Gibson

Odd things come to one’s mind when falling asleep. I don’t know anyone called Noelle Gibson, nor the rest of it makes sense; but let’s say that I was holding the tablet and waiting for my allergy meds to kick in…and this came out of it.

Uspavanka za krevet / Lullaby For A Bed

I spotted an ongoing theme in most of my 2012 poems, at last. Backed by my ugly habit of writing about things as-they-happen; which – for example – turned the poetry from the second half of 2011 into documentation of something that I wasn’t going to succeed at, step by step; I’ve realised most of the recent poems are about seeing the same events and situations from different viewpoints.

Žaklina / Jacqueline

This was written late in March, at the time Picasso’s pottery was exhibited here in Belgrade.
Munjama crtka li crtka leptire ucene
da popuni
njegove bore oko očiju barem do sutra,
Knjige krvare pričama dok ih gutaju,
ali ona
živi život princeze iz bajke,
Žaklina, Žaklina, Žaklina….
…OPET ŽAKLINA. I opet, opet ta Žaklina.
Zatvorila i otvorila kutiju,
da li si, Žaklina,
da li si Read on

Where was I?

I have not blogged in about two months and then my dear friend Radmila told me I should. I tried to, but a (possibly irrational) fear triggered by something that happened precisely three and half years ago made me vow that I was not going to write anything here until the end of 2012 or Read on

Dvanaest kapi meda u peščanom satu / Twelve Drops Of Honey in the Hourglass

Dvanaest kapi meda u peščanom satu
Dvanaest kapi meda u peščanom satu,
udaram glavom o snove,
postali su tesni.
Dvanaest kapi meda u peščanom satu,
bacam se kočijama na brodove,
postali su besni.
Lebdim na madracu od ustajalog vazduha.
Kad zlatne svetlosti više nema,
rastemo u mraku,
volimo u mraku.
Ćutke posmatram svoju baraku,
vreme je da skinem daske sa prozora,
no i dalje se žuti kiperi
bacaju u Read on

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