Gravitacija (Vec Kot Spijemo)
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
Po zgledu najboljega benda iz Kneaka
smo naredili en komad za Zmelkoowa junaka
je voh kot poljsko pivo in hiter kot raketa
in skoi v daljino 3m brez zaleta
Smo li biciklirat od Izole do Kopra
in smo skoraj ostali brez areta basista
na levi strani morje na desni je bla cesta
nad nami nebo nad njim pa nebesa
Na rexu je are zgubil ravnoteje
na ravnem odseku je zgrmel dol na skale
je blo tam eno dete v cvetu pubertete
je brez modrka leala na brisai od tete
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
Je gravitacija melon ukrivila aretu pogled
in je pista pod njim zgubila pravo smer
e sreo je imel da je padu na glavo
njemu ni blo ni malo je okruil skalo
Medtem pa je Damjan povozu maara
ki je vijoliasto opeen menjal gumo ves nesreen
jaz sem pa zgazu cel taborniki vod
s kazalci v zraku so iskali zahod
in naj e kdo ree da je pri tabornikih varno
varen si samo e poiva doma
Zgodba je izmiljena a to sploh ni vano
le po nauku se vidi kolko pesnik velja
1 2 5 7 9
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage
Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote
And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne
And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght
So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn
Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte
yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Yo!
Smo s'li v Osmico naroc'ili 8 pizz
ni bilo pizz smo rekli bomo pili kapuc'in
ni bilo niti kapuc'ina smo pili samo vino
Smo s'li v pizzerijo naroc'ili bakala
niso imeli bakalaja smo hoteli pomfri
ni bilo niti pomfrija smo jedli samo pizzo
Smo s'li v mesnico po batne obroc'ke
niso imeli obroc'kov smo hoteli baterijo
ni bilo biti baterije smo kupili jetrca
Smo s'li na banko da bi nas ostrigli
niso imeli niti s'karij samo c'eke in denar
smo vzeli nekaj denarja in s'li v zapor
ikoli vec' se ne bom ostrigel
nikoli vec' ne bom streljal krems'nit
nikoli vec' ne bom zajc'ek na zidu
nikoli vec' ne bom majhen in zelen
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Knyghthode and Bataile
A XVth Century Verse Paraphrase of Flavius Vegetius Renatus' Treatise 'DE RE MILITARI'
Proemium.
Salue, festa dies
i martis,
Mauortis! auete
Kalende. Qua Deus
ad celum subleuat
ire Dauid.
Hail, halyday deuout! Alhail Kalende
Of Marche, wheryn Dauid the Confessour
Commaunded is his kyngis court ascende;
Emanuel, Jhesus the Conquerour,
This same day as a Tryumphatour,
Sette in a Chaire & Throne of Maiestee,
To London is comyn. O Saviour,
Welcome a thousand fold to thi Citee!
And she, thi modir Blessed mot she be
That cometh eke, and angelys an ende,
Wel wynged and wel horsed, hidir fle,
Thousendys on this goode approche attende;
And ordir aftir ordir thei commende,
As Seraphin, as Cherubyn, as Throne,
As Domynaunce, and Princys hidir sende;
And, at o woord, right welcom euerychone!
But Kyng Herry the Sexte, as Goddes Sone
Or themperour or kyng Emanuel,
To London, welcomer be noo persone;
O souuerayn Lord, welcom! Now wel, Now wel!
Te Deum to be songen, wil do wel,
And Benedicta Sancta Trinitas!
Now prosperaunce and peax perpetuel
Shal growe,-and why? ffor here is Vnitas.
Therof to the Vnitee 'Deo gracias'
In Trinitee! The Clergys and Knyghthode
And Comynaltee better accorded nas
Neuer then now; Now nys ther noon abode,
But out on hem that fordoon Goddes forbode,
Periurous ar, Rebellovs and atteynte,
So forfaytinge her lyif and lyvelode,
Although Ypocrisie her faytys peynte.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mohabbat Kise Kahe?
Koi samzhaye..
Kisko mohabbat kahe?
Voh jo raato ko,
Kalikh lage aangan me jagaye,
Rulaaye, sataye..
Ya,
Voh job bhare saapno ko
Daman me liye
Hasaye, khilaye?
Koi samzhaye..
Kisko mohabbat kahe?
Voh jo chand ki bojzal aankho
Mei kajal ki syahi se,
dhundhli lage..
ya,
voh jo suraj ki ujjali dhoop
ki sunahari taap me mehke?
Koi samzhaye..
Kisko mohabbat kahe?
Voh jo aadhoore alfazoo mei
Uljhe,
Ankahi se kahani lage…
Ya,
Voh jo aalfazoo ke mohtaz se pare
Sari aadhoori kahaniyon ka,
Aant sa lage..
Koi samzhaye..
Kisko mohabbat kahe?
poem by Anjali Kakati
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Strelovod
Ta dan sem z levo nogo vstal
to noc' sem res slabo spal
zjutraj ostal sem z'e spet brez z'iletk
mogoc'e s'e boljs'e, ker bi se porezal
za praznike itak jih dobil bom spet
do takrat si bom brado samo poc'esal
in ko enkrat gre vse po zlu s'e kripa zataji.
Kot, da sem streloowod za vse pizdarije sveta
kot, da sem streloowod za vse zlobne strele neba.
Ta dan bi blo boljs'e c'e nebi vstal
to noc' bi rajs'i v miru prespal
v sluz'bi me je glava bolela za vmret
in je s'efica pizdla zakaj sem zamudil
komaj sem nas'el en prosti sekret
sem moral kozlatda bi se prebudil
in ko enkrat gre vse po zlu me s'e dvojka c'aka doma.
Kot, da sem streloowod za vse pizdarije sveta
kot, da sem streloowod za vse zlobne strele neba.
Ta dan bi blo boljs'e c'e ne bi pil
to noc' bi rajs'i trezen ostal
bi se jezik ne za pletal, ne bi rdec'e ble oc'i
in bi draga razumela da sem z levo nogo vstal.
Jaz sem streloowod za vse pizdarije sveta
kot, da sem streloowod za vse zlobne strele neba
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tako Zaspan
Jaz sem tako zaspan ...
bolj zaspan kot moker vulkan
bolj zaspan kot mrzel katran
C'e bi me pekli na raz'nju se mi ne bi dalo dret
c'e bi me slac'li iz koz'e se mi ne bi dalo umret
c'e bi padel z aviona ne bi mogel letel
c'e bi me moc'no segreli se ni be hotel vnet
Jaz sem ...
C'e bi me bolel zob bi zaspal od bolec'ine
c'e bi me polili s kropom bi zaspal od vroc'ine
vedno ko mi je muka zaspim dokler ne mine
jaz bi rajs'i spal kot zobal rozine
Jaz sem ...
Niti inekcija kofeina mi ne more nic' naredit
rajs'i riskiram eno uko kot da bi se dal budit
ko zjutraj ura zvoni slis'im angele v glavi
ko potekajo spopadi spim v naravi
Jaz sem tako zaspan ...
bolj kot zariban kamion bolj kot zadavljen puran
Kdor spi zlo ne misli kdor je buden naj gre spat
ne spat za volanom c'e z'e spis' pa ne divjat
Jaz sem
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tumhare Saath
Tamam jindagi kaati humne
Tak -taki laga,
Uss tat ko nihar,
Choote he jo ho jata raha,
Dur,
Bahut dur.. har baar.
Tumhare saath,
Sochte hai,
Choo hi lenge kadam,
Us tat ko…. is baar..
Tamam umr kaati humne
Becheeni me,
Us subah ka raat se,
Aur us raat ka subah se,
Palko pe liye
Na jaane kaun sa intezar.
Tumhare saath,
Lagta hai,
Jee hi lenge aakhir,
Voh subah, voh raat
Ek hi din, ek pal hi mei,
ek baar.
Tamam umr dhoondhte rahe jo
Dar dar..bhatak bhatak,
Gali gali, dastak de hr deewar,
Tumhare saath,
Shayad,
Voh mil hi gaya hai,
Haath aa gaya hai,
Jo mil ke bhi khota raha
Har baar.
Bahut jindagi jee le humne
Kuch khali, kuch aadhoore se lekar
Na janne kitne kitne aahsas,
Tumhare saath,
Na jaane kyun
Bharne laga hai khalipan
Poore se lagne lage hai…
Voh tamam aadhoore aahsas..
poem by Anjali Kakati
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Dreamt of in a thought (Nafaka)
we are all made of words
fragile sewing
we are all made of stars
shiny sewing
we are all made of stone
solid endlessly
we are all made
of a grass leave
seen by the matter
we are all made of breath
endlessly breathing
we are all made of waiting
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
od rijeci smo svi
sasiveni krhko
od zvijezda smo svi
sjajem obrubjeni
od kamena smo svi
cvrstinom u nedogled
od travke smo svi
sagledani u tvar
od daha smo svi
disanjem u nedogled
od cekanja smo svi
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
That's not it-To nije to
Excuse me sir
You look like someone I've met before
And I am sure it is like that
I'm sure everyone has met everyone before
In what's called preceding lives
Do you believe in that sir
I mean those karmas
Moving along cyclic zodiacs
Made of illiterate stars
Sounds quite familiar to me
A life through trials and errors
I think sir
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
(Do not worry you don't have to give me any
Of your monthly revenue
I am not that kind of a beggar)
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
And look at those divinely entangled lines
So cryptic
That are supposed to determine my fate
I think there's got to be some mistake there
That they are not there to determine me
But to tell me that this palm belongs to me only
That I am just like you sir
A creature born once a creature divine
Unrepeatable and free
For most when I outstretch the palm of my hand
To see my own geometry of the universe
Or to turn it into a fist
To strike the face of Fortune
Then I think sir
For sure we've all met before
In the faces of Adam and Eve
Hitting their foreheads against the ground
Once they vaguely hinted the Heaven is perhaps
Nothing but a wholeness of a soul in unity with its Creator
And Hell the lack of the same thing
Yes I am sure we've met before
In the face of Christ crucified on the cross
That redeemed us through his blood
For a dream in which an Idiot
Will not have to find a compartment
In which he would, with a roomful of thoughts
In his head just like me right now,
He would not have to repeat
That's not it that's not it until he cannot
Thinking perhaps about those marbles of lifeful life
Whose glimmer fades away once they break out on the surface
To dry in the fire of their own eyes
Thinking that's not it that's not it
[...] Read more
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mogoce Me Ni
Nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Nisem se uc'il exat enga litra vina da bi mogu zaklepat z'epe vsakih 5
minut
mislit na denar bolj kot na lastno veselje in gledat face zdolgoc'asenih
kurb
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni ...
Jaz sem s'e bolj neobstojen od molekule ozona in c'e spijem eno pivo paf
se spremenim v kaviar
vedno imam pri sebi lasuljo od fantoma tarzanov dez'nik in majhno opico
ki pazi na denar
nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tumhi Me Hai Jo Basa
Na jaane umar bhar kya dhundh rahe the?
Na jaane tum me kya mil gaya,
Koi naam, koi pata hota toh
Shayad,
Jaan hi lete…
Koi nak-naksh hota toh
Shayad,
Pehchan batate..
Voh jo bas tum me hai
Sirf tum me.
Ha…tumhi me hai voh basa.
Humari nazaro ko hai pata
Shayad,
mann ki kisi gahrayee meiHai chipa
uske astitva ka naksha.
Dikhta hai sirf hume hi jo,
Kaash,
Tumhe bhi dikha paate voh wajah.
Phir shayad,
Tumko nahi lagta
Youn tumpar humara mar mitna,
Koi julm, ek khata.
Par afsos,
Koi nak naksh nahi hai
Koi naam paata tak nahi hai
Uska,
Jo basta sirf tum me hai,
Aur dikhta sirf hume hai
Na jaane us tak pahuchta hai
Kaha se…koun sa raasta…
poem by Anjali Kakati
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Pljuvam Skozi Okno
Pljuvam skozi okno in gledam kam pljunec leti
sonce zahaja nekje dalec' grmi vidim tvoj pogled kako v prazno brez
volje
lez'i
v dimu cigarete se tudi moj razmegli
Z'e tretji dan dez'uje in mene glava boli
si kdaj vidu kako kac'a trpi valja se v vroc'ini kjer je vedno lepo bilo
poletje brez vec'erov je kot belo zlato
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Veni, Vidi, Vadi, Via
Vidi vraga kaj ni tisto tvoj direktor
si popravlja reggicalze
in s'obi usta v ogledalce iz srebra
vidi vraga kaj ni tisto sam predsednik
v oprijeten minikrilu sredi kroga
ples'e ballo del qua qua
pazi pazi euforije, ko harmonika upic'i
eno nas'e po domac'e vsi popadajo na tla
vidi vraga kas'na srec'a na obrazih
vseh zariplih od kravate in skrivnostnega - oh
Ko ugasnejo kamere in z'arometi
petitisoc' Hz ti piska v oc'esih
najrajs'e bi se zjokal umru
in se zbudil v nebesih takrat vidis' list na drevesu
Vljudno valbljeni na ples mongoloidov?
vec' kot nas bo bolj bo veselo vsak petek pri bebotu
Novo jutro ista faca druga dus'a in ime
novo zlikana kravata in poc'esani lasje
noben se nic' ne spomni noben se ne izda
saj smo vendar fina druz'ba mi smo smetana sveta
Ko ugasnejo kamere in z'arometi
petitisoc' Hz ti piska v oc'esih
najrajs'e bi se zjokal umru
in se zbudil v nebesih takrat slis'is' prasca na radiu.
Vljudno valbljeni na ples mongoloidov?
vec' kot nas bo bolj bo veselo vsak petek pri bebotu
song performed by Zmelkoow
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Menatap lurus matamu (Indonesian)
lalu belajar mengerti dari awal,
membaca kembali ejaan yang tak pernah kau berikan,
karena sebagaimana pengertian dari awalnya
bermula dari keterpaksaan,
penderitaan yang dijalani,
akar tunjang yang membelit tumbuh
di pokok batangnya,
rumput yang tumbuh
di segala musim,
kerelaan yang tumbuh
dari bola matamu,
memperkaitkan sepi pada pengertian,
alam benda-benda yang ada di kerajaan hati,
entah berapa kali aku mengemis padamu,
jangan buatkan sarang laba-laba yang menjebakku,
jadi magsamu,
terpikat masuk ke bola matamu,
terjebak sukma ruhmu,
melewati aliran nadi,
memenuhi hasrat,
pelajaran apalagi ini?
bermula dari kekosongan mengisi setiap rongga jiwa,
penderitaan adalah awal persetubuhan,
persetubuhan yang akan menjadi puing-puing
kenangan dalam matamu,
hendakkah kau buang,
bagi matamu yang penyair,
barangkali akan tinggalkan sebagai kata,
yang kembali dieja dengan apa saja judul puisimu,
tetapi tetap saja persetubuhan kita tak kekal,
hanya kekal dalam matamu dan mataku,
suatu kali kita bangun kerajaan dalam semalam,
aku puaskan membangunkan pualam istana,
cuma dalam matamu,
setelah kekeringan yang punah,
dibakar, apalagi ini?
lalu belajar mengerti kembali…..
(2001)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tribal Ways (Karez* of Dabkot*)
From the first habitations in the valley
In old fortress like Kot* called the old Kot
The occupation was fabulous for the earth
Did promise of harvests in plenty for all
Towards the west in steep rising the plateau
Behind the small hills the sun would set
There were springs of water when in refuge
The encampment was settled before the valley
For the water how to fetch and for the fields
Underground channels they had seen
On the way through the oasis of villages
Who could do it for the skill was possessed
Uzbeks from north who bore the earth
To bring down water on surface in the middle
The rejoicing village as inhabitants grew further
Divided times as to capacity of the clan
Soon greenery was patched on dry soil
Plumes and apples and mulberries
A small orchard for every house adjacent
Water for drinking then flew to the mosque
Made of mud with much devotion
Then baths for the men in common
Followed by it was the place for washing
For women to gossip and laundry of the day
Happy fishes and few crabs too in the water
Life giving springs from where the water came
Of the green trees named after the gallant
The elderly and sweet hearts of the village
Many a lovers around the corners
Of the Karez here and there under trees
The damsels either to fetch water
Or wash clothes or to the fields away
An embroidered gift with perfume of apples
Thrown on the dust for the lover to pick
The shepherdess in the evening to return
Water her sheep on the many water ways
The fresh cold water for bath in the morn
So was the simplicity when on occasions
For the drum beats and dance with songs
In duets on marriages and visits on celebrations
And then came the drought on the happy land
No water in spring in sadness died the fishes
The crab ran away and stones did stopped
Giving sustenance to the water and the larvae
[...] Read more
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tumme humme jo hai khas
Na jaane tumme-hum me,
Kya khas hai
Jo batayee nahi banti,
Chipayee nahi chipti.
Bahut rooka raab ko
Par,
Cheep cheep kar
Tumme voh dikhta hi raha.
Bahut tooka khud ko
Par,
Ruk ruk kar,
Tum par voh lootta hi raha.
Kaie baar soocha tumko
Seene se nikal
Jamee par khada kareen
Par,
Jamee ne jagah nahi di
Aur
Seene ne raasta.
Tumhe seene me kaid kar,
Hum jamee par raasta khojte rahe.
Tum kabhi thee?
Tum nahi thee,
Kabhi nahi,
Aaj bhi nahi ho,
Aur kal ki ummeed kya Karen
Shayad kal toh
Hota hi hai nahi…
Par,
Phir bhi tumhari rah par
Palke bicha,
Yeh soochte hai…
Na jaane tumme hum me,
Kya khas hai
Jo batayee nahi banti,
Chipayee nahi chipti.
poem by Anjali Kakati
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Search-Potraga
we searched for him among the living-but in vain
we searched for him among the wounded- but he was dead
we searched for him among the missing ones
and there he was - but nothing
we searched for him - you and I
tražiči smo ga među živima i bio je tamo no zalud
tražili smo ga među ranjenima i bio je tamo no mrtav
tražili smo ga među nestalima
i bio je tamo pa ništa
tražili ga - ti i ja
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A discovery/Otkrice
From behind all the twilights and evening shadows
Under all the covers
And you who do the night rims vigils
Under all sand clocks
And far from those who chase
The windmills of their won restlessness
From behind all the silences hidden within themselves
From behind all the words hidden within themselves
That we were silent with
I took out a flame a fire of the being
It's not the doors locked by the mind
It's not by the mind
Those are not the loves plundered by a heart
Those are not the creatures dried out by the heart
It's not the heart hunt but it's with the heart
It's you and I
And she and he
Those breathings there and these breathings here
That breathe in life everywhere and forever
And they are never now
Oh if we were now how could we be
Otkrice
Iza svih sutona i vecernjih sjenki
Ispod svih pokrivaca
I vas nocobdija okorjele noci
Ispod svih pješcanih satova
I dalje od onih što ganjaju
Vjetrenjace sopstvenih nemira
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih cutanja
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih rijeci kojima smo cutali
Izvukla sam plamen
Oganj samog bice
To nisu umom zakljucana vrata
To nije umom
To nisu srcem poharane ljubavi
To nisu srcem ispijena bica
To nije lov srca no srcem je
To smo ti i ja
I ona tamo i ova ovdje disanja
Što životom dišu svugdje i zauvijek
[...] Read more
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
I zaronimo u geometriju oštrih slijepih uglova
Što žive svoje živote izmedu dva sna
Milimetri snage mogu se istopiti
U mapama i stazama
Muzejima na raskršcu
U semaforima što bespomocno trepcu
Kad želje bilborduju staze do pakla
U slike obmane grube zabave za posjetioce što kažu
Mi smo sad fini pristojni ljudi
Više ne gledamo kako mecka igra
Probadana žaracem
Jer smo saznali bol njenog makabra
Ali ipak smo stavili rukavice
Otišli do njenog Zoo vrta
Tražeci da nam da intervju
Iako nikad ni rijec nije rekla
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Ispisuje se jedan aforizam bola
Što hrani se na kraju redova
I stiska adresu remek djelo
On pulsira 'mjesta molim mjesta da pokucam
Bez imena mrtva ste ulica
Došao sam da zaplacem kraj zvona na vratima
Što zvoni spram putujeceg prodavca snova
Što došao je samo da pozdravi majku
Jer danas ne prodaje ništa
Cak ni Boga za mjesecni prihod
Nijedan recept za srecniji život
Danas je došao da pita spavace sobe na spratu
O malom djecaku što mokrio je u krevet
I skrivao svoje košmare pod dušek
I matrici dizajniranoj što živi u kutiji za igracke
Medu jednonogim olovnim vojnicima
Kraj lutke djevojcice sa šibicama
Obešcašcene pod Božicnom jelkom'
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Vozovi stanu zanijemili na šinama
Slijepi se putnici iskrcavaju peroni pucaju
Trgovi se crvene od paradajz revolucija
Što flertuju sa metaforama krvi
Bare podojene majkom hrabrošcu
Isparavaju u sušama južnih zraka
I vracaju se sa rodama što ne radaju djecu
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Zidovi stružu svoju farbu suzno tražeci
Boju necijih ociju u svakoj zidanost da udave
I apokalipticno kripticni grafiti
[...] Read more
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Colyn Cloute
Quis consurget mecum adversus malignantes ?
aut quis stabit mecum adversus operantes iniqui-
tatem ? Nemo, Domine !
W H A T can it auayle
To dryue forth a snayle,
Or to make a sayle
Of an herynges tayle ;
To ryme or to rayle,
To wryte or to indyte,
Eyther for delyte
Or elles for despyte ;
Or bokes to compyle
Of dyuers maner style, 10
Vyce to reuyle
And synne to exyle ;
To teche or to preche,
As reason wyll reche ?
Say this, and say that,
His hed is so fat,
He wotteth neuer what
Nor wherof he speketh ;
He cryeth and he creketh,
He pryeth and he peketh, 20
He chydes and he chatters,
He prates and he patters,
He clytters and he clatters,
He medles and he smatters,
He gloses and he flatters ;
Or yf he speake playne,
Than he lacketh brayne,
He is but a fole ;
Let hym go to scole,
On a thre foted stole 30
That he may downe syt,
For he lacketh wyt ;
And yf that he hyt
The nayle on the hede,
It standeth in no stede ;
The deuyll, they say, is dede,
The deuell is dede.
It may well so be,
Or els they wolde se
Otherwyse, and fle 40
From worldly vanyte,
And foule couetousnesse,
And other wretchednesse,
Fyckell falsenesse,
Varyablenesse,
With vnstablenesse.
[...] Read more
poem by John Skelton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!