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Matrikset e zeza

Matrikset e zeza

Ata të cilët e njohin veprën e Khalil Gibran-it mesiguri kanë hasur në vargje të tij

Për të cilat kam shkruar më herët se pothuaj i ka shkruar për ne duke ma pamundësuar që as të shtoj e as të heq gjë.
Letërsia jonë me duket se është e vetme e cila në historinë e sajë të amputuar dhunshëm përpiqet ta harroj një grup autorësh të cilët shkruan edhe në burgje edhe në manastire edhe në kasha edhe në xhami edhe në teqe… ka shumë prej bejtexhinjëve e derit e Arshi Pipa, Fredrik Rreshpja e më tej.

Mediet tona tani e bëjnë të njëjtën gjë duek amputuare artin me promovimin e politikës siluetë.

Mospasja e Universitetit shkencor është një dëshmi se prodhimi i kuadros edukative nuk e ndërton një shoqëri
Natyrisht nuk flas për cilësinë e kuadrove.
Fakti që me një temë magjistrature djetra individë magjistrojnë kumbon më zëshëm se sat ë pajtohesh me mjerimin e ky ndosh vetëm atëherë kur pajtohesh me injorancën dhe këtë e mbulon me zë.
Injorantët janë të zëshëm duke artikuluar mendimet e huaja sit ë vetat mirë zëshëm me entuziazëm dhe passion.
Kjo stimulon pasthirmat ato të zëshme natyrisht shumë të zëshme. Kuku kuku kuku!!!

“ injorantë, të lumit ju gjatë jetoni të liruar nga barra e dijes. Nga prangat e përgjegjësisë të cilat krijohen nga kjo dije”

Kush ia ndali volumin e zërit intelektualëve? Pse ata vdesin urie? Pse ata heshtin? Ku janë këta? Thonë se u duhet një mjeshtri. Mjeshtri menaxhuese.
“Menaxhimi i vërtetë i vetës intelektuale arrihet çdoherë duke krijuar alternative simultanisht me njëtrajtshmërinë jetësore-në njëtrajtshmërinë e karierës intelektuale”.

Intelektualët flasin idhujtaria bashkëkohore e okupoi shpirtin e njerëzimit. Tash nuk ka Zeus, Brahma, Amon Ra, Shamash, Uzzat, Adonai, Shang Di, Omikami Amateratsu, dhe lista vazhdon në pambarim, tai ka kredit kartelë telefon mobil, kompjuterë, qenë dhe maca nën sqetull. Njeriu beson tani në kulte të reja. Vetë i krijoi.
Moda Muzika Inxhinjeringu gjenetik, pesticidet, herbicidet, homocidet, gazetat librat komplotiste, antiage kosmetika, preparate kundër obesitetit; këto gjernerojnë kryePerendinë në kierarkinë pagane bashkëkohore, Paranë.

Del se njeriu i çdo epoke në kunitesencën e tij është pagan, sepse e ka më lehtë nga cytja e mbrendëshme utilitare – instinct bazë- ta absorboj një atribut të Njëshmërisë. Edhe kur ka të bëj me Zotin e vërtetë- ta admiroj so Zot.

Në ambient të këtillë agresiv intelektualit i këshillohet durimi. Po ka dy lloje të durimit
Durimi i dhunshëm dhe durimi durimi i vullnetshëm.
Këto dallojnë bë substancë; në të parin mbretëron shpresa e ashpër, e pamëshirëshme, në të dytin shpresa e dyshuar në vete. E gjithë kjo është segment i jetës-segment i pandashëm-ekstremitet i sajë- nëpër jetë kalohet me këmbën e durimit dhe shpresës- pak janë ata të cilët jetojnë në Tash.

Jeta ec drejt dështimit- regresit dhe drejt kuksesit- progresit pamëshirshëm-nuk të prêt të mendohesh, çasti vlen sa jeta. Jeta është çasti- aty fshihet kodi gjenetik i jetës- në çast.

Kur kam shkruar Nibiru- Fragmente nga libri i zi, në formë poetike- kam menduar që hija e zezë e cila gufon nga matrikset e zeza të secilit individ, të reflektohet në qenien e lexuesit- apo t’i shërbej si pasqyrë ku mund të shikohet qenia e tyre si shikohet dielli në pasqyrën e hënës.
Vetëm ballafaqimi me hijen e vet na mëson për vetën ato lekcione të cilat nuk i gjejmë dot në libra, tek njeriu apo cilado gjallësë me e ulët se gjitarët.

Ai i cili është në gjendje të ballafaqohet me hijen e vet ai as që lodhet ta bëj këtë - çdoherë “Nesër” bëhet shpresa e pambarimtë. Ai mendon sëpari vetën, pastaj çastin, pastajh të tjerët, bëhet i zëshëm dhe model i keq për gjeneratën pasuese. Vetëm me zë mund ta mbuloj heshtjen – urtësia flen në heshtje,heshtja flen në zemër dhe e përkund dashurinë në djepin e sajë.


As gatuhet një vepër e as ndërtohet një kështjellë pa dashuri.
Të gjitha krijesat e Zotiti janë një fmailje…më i miri prej jushë është ai i cili më së shumti i sjell dobi kësaj familjeje- Hadith.

Kush është mësuar të dashuroj- vështirë e ka të ç’mësohet
Vetëm kështu buron drita nga matrikset e bardha, por edhe nga ato të zeza

Dismantle of hate

Charged circle

Black

Empty cans
No liquid evaporated
In the air full of pride
Polluted grains of soul
Lost their consistency
Pure fluids of light
Erupts as marshmallow bombs
Death squad penetrates deeply
Aiming to meet Anubis
A Tsunami whirled its wish
Passion and glutton declared independence
The dream f becoming a parallel nation
To co-habit with leukemia of creativity
A sex drive 4x4 retired
A crippled veteran of passion
Bags for the mercy of soulless utilitarian army of human entity
Better said plankton a homo-plankton of miserable creatures
Even worms and larva are disgusted by our hatred
Fecal, a skunk of fear
An eclipse of love that spans for ages
From birth to death
A spectrum displays its ripeness
Ejaculates liberty ass blast
A dazzling dance of shaped and amoeboid forms of manifestation
Truth
Bitter the honey with suffer
Powder a chamomile with royal jelly and ginseng
All of sudden a wind blows
Spores of old pines


White

The soul of parallel nation of Angeloid
Is striving pleasure of life?
Lives now
Perpetually woofs a rainbow muslin with the divine light
Inter-woofed dress
Newborn immaculate fellows
Perfuming
Oh those smell of paradise
Mint, Neroli, Oakmoss, Amber
A bouquet of divine pleasure
And Acacia kissed by a queen bee
Yes the queen of Enneagram
Of course
The work produces sweet essences
Oh Sarmouni of our Millennia
Melt the cataract-ic lance so they may see the beauty
Heal the flu so they may smell fresh ozone
A charged circle of light and love
Overwhelm
Remove the pulp from reed
So may divine tune perform light?
Tao
May be your torchbearer
In the dark valley and by then you may see a spectrum
That encircles an infant fear
For an eternal life
Yet I kiss that that time sequence
Where Jin and Jang harmoniously co-habit
I a Feng Shui of Love
Defragmenter of hate’s files
Zipper of dark matrixes
Arranger
So you may know they do exists
So you try them in order to enjoy the sweetness of life’s honey
In this porcelain valley
Where goodness and mischief
Hand in hand are gliding furiously
Alas pure the morning with dew of love
Oxidize hate with apple vinegar
Sing to celebrate both solstices and have a cup of vine
That swoon you
That filters all starry
Cells of brain and ganglia
Perfume her navel with rosewater and kiss, kiss, kiss
Do a divine Tantra
With all visible and invisible and semi-visible spirits
Kiss topaz of her eyes
Kiss ruby of her heart
Kiss diamond of her nail
Kiss cooper of her feet ankle
Kiss jade of her bones
Kiss sapphire of her cells
And a flame-y waterfall of hair
And a silky pubic…
Oh…kiss and kiss and kiss whatever belongs to her
Make her a necklace
With your purest and noblest spermatozoids
The call her as you wish
Wisdom, Hikkmah, Sophia
Or simply Goddess that makes you Angeloid.



Thus spoke Tamara

I have polished the eyes of suffered child
Removing steamy layers of his vision
To see a sparkling teeth while I smile
And my soul’s dormant and well hidden planet of hate

I have washed the stratosphere of disasters
Their parents layered meticulously in his being
With tears with love impregnated
I have peeled all membranes of polluted spirit

I bestowed a smile to a frog
And a kiss to a silenced jade

I have leaked the dew from the petal of the white rose
And counted rubies from the ripened pomegranate

I have planted all sorts of fruits
And made a playground for all of us
You may call it orchard
You may call it plantation of Love’s newborn
But I know its Tachyon-ic soil
Where only Love may plant its seed

I have tailored an emerald dress
And perfumed it with amber for every child to wear
I feed every stomach
With bedazzling light of my soul
To make them transparent
To make them enlightened

I have created the army of smile
And called all experts to dismantle the machinery of hate
In the fields of light’s symphony
In eternity’s holly moment

I have embraced all visible and invisible infants
And rejoiced their happiness

I have squeezed all weapons
Human and demon have created
And made a powder so by every pinch
A smile gave birth to love


Bewilderment of Alien

Demons are mocking us
Angels are compassioning us
Aliens are bewildered why these…
Are killing each other?

The Emerald Macadam

The Emerald Macadam

I have passed through
The narrow canyons of cerebrum
While listening odes of mature cells
Vibrating slowly
And a fresh Pine resin, Oakmoss and fresh Ozone winded my hairs
Inside my nose
Plugged my alveolus ready to burst of indescribable pleasure
I’ve heard sounds of sprinkling blood
From my wounded feet
Leaving blueprint of the thirsty soul…
For
Knowledge, Wisdom and Enlightenment
That slowly bows in a front of God
Only by us called LOVE
In an emerald macadam to show the path
To the following procession of creatures
From all Gurdijeffian Octaves
Which as a golden fig are blossoming from within?

You may call me outpour of passion
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me lanolin extracted from merino
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me a broken porcelain soldier
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me a bee that soaks the nectar from thousands of roses
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me a yellow topaz
A child of carbon
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me a felt petal of the white rose
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may call me believer who prays for the sins of human multitude
And you’ll not be mistaken

You may even call me human that mix with angels unaware of his innocence
And you’ll not be mistaken

But I know
I know spirit does not have a gender
The wind misses the color
The grass is painted green by transparent rain
Alchemy is a transformation of mother’s milk into blood
Heaven is nature and man is Hell
But the Mother is God in Heaven and Earth
Thus I’m hardly a human.




A honeycomb


I’m not here
To say the pride of forgotten past
Nor I’m here to sing miraculously
Suras and Sutras of the Holy Scriptures

I’m not here to watch fallen mulberry fruits
In river swimming as a dried leafs
Nor I’m here to pray endlessly
As a sages to repent for
Sinful mundane ignorant

I’m here to kiss the sky in its forehead
And between two eyes where
The star has to spark its beauty

I’m here to perfume your soul
And dry in the sunny-golden pollen

I’m here too, to feed your lungs
With the air of the lost world
Eternally washed in the rivers of soul

I’m the soil of your secret sowed
As a wheat seeds in the fall
Waiting spring to green the fields
And to golden summer with poppies decorated

And fireflies during short nights
Dancing erotic games

Waiting fall to feed the holy stomach
Of enfant terrible
Perpetually called ME
The sarcophagus of your secret

I’m lost …you, concentrated
In a formula dissolved
To respond on their enigmas.






Short bio
Born in Rahovec, South East of Kosova, in 1972. Graduated at Prishtina University, Oriental Studies follows M.A. in Literature.
Actively works on Calligraphy discovering new mediums and techniques for this specific for of plastic art.

Published books:
•NUN- collection of mystical poems, 1996 author’s edition,
•INVISIBLE PLURALITY- Poetical prose, 2000, author’s edition
•NEKTARINA- Novel, Transcendental Epic, 2004, publishing House, Rozafa
Prishtinë- project of Ministry of Culture Sport and Youth of Kosova
•ELEMENTAL 99- Short poetical mystical stories, 2006, Center for positive
Thinking, Prishinë
•KUN- collection of transcendental lyrics, 2007, Publishing House LOGOS-A,
Skopje, Macedonia
Issues on papers and magazines:
Essays on daily paper ZERI, Prishtinë,
Essays on daily paper LAJM, Prishtinë,
Essays on daily paper GAZETAEXPRESS, Prishtinë,
Essays on daily paper ILIRIA POST, Prishtinë,
Columns and essays on weekly paper JAVA, Prishtinë,
Poetry on Magazine of Center for Humanistic studies GANI BOBI, Prishtinë
Essays on Journal “Oriental Studies”- Kosova’s Orientalist’s Association.
Poetry on Magazine STAV- Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Poetry on Magazine ZIVOT- Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Poetry on Magazine ULAZNICA- Zrenjanin, Vojvodina
Poetry on Magazine, ISTANBUL LITERARY REVIEW, Istanbul, Turkey
Poetry on Magazine, MOBIUS MAGAZINE, New York
Essays on electronic magazine SEGURAWEB, Holland
Essays on electronic magazine GAZETA START, Albania
Articles in www.worldbulletin.com
Articles in www.newropeansmagazine.com

Participations:
Exhibition of Calligraphies in Cairo, Egypt, 2004
Sarajevo 44th Poetry Meeting, Sarajevo 2005
Congress on 600th anniversary of the work of Abdurrahman Ibn Khaldun, Cairo, Egypt, 2006
Meeting for the ethnic minority rights, European Parliament, Bruxelles, 2006
Exhibition of paintings and calligraphies at the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, Cairo, Egypt, 2007
Participation on the Congress on 800th anniversary of a Persian Poet RUMI, organized by, UNESCO/Albania and Saadi Shirazi Foundation, Tirana
Debates on national KTV, RTK, TV BESA

Projects:
Lyrics for Kosova Grange Rock band Jericho
Book of poems THE WING OF SERAPHIM, soon to be Published in Tirana, Albania
Book of poems NIBIRU
Book of poems CAUDA PAVONIS
Book on Mystical Tradition of Islam- SUFISM
Book on Mystical Tradition of Nordic- RUNAR
Documentary on Albanian Identity of Kosovars, interviewed; Bernard Koushner, Ismail Kadare, Dom Lush Gjergji, Fahredin Shehu, Luan Starova
Works in Administration of Radio Television of Kosova RTK

The Metaphysics and Meta-Symphony of Act

The Art allows reality to erupt
The Theurgy allows reality to manifest the magnitude of beauty of cosmic reality.


How to begin? How to continue? and how to abandon the process which we know to baptize creativity and then to restart again the same suffer with hesitation? Are thoughts which Balzac has articulated sometime ago?
Yet such thoughts got and still every soul which strives to create have!?. A parallel elemental world demoted unconsciously from Theurgy into Art. The art work that might fascinate the minority or a colony of human entities but such a work has guaranteed super temporality, as Homer, Shakespeare, Hafez, Rumi in literature or Mozart, Wagner, Beethoven etc in Music.
Simultaneously such works are on safari on communication code a kind of Lingua Franca, but wordless and syllables in this case per se.
Otherwise the work that are not red by cover but in their substance, in its flesh, only the sky is their limit.
For such works the time is inexistent and based on quantum of things and manifestations they do not posses velocity of light to absorb time neither are static to be considered a corpse (cadaver that waits to decompose) to the level we are not able to identify its genetic code; DNK of super temporal values.
In the antique Hindu tradition, as in the best way the artistic/sacral phenomenon is manifested if we may say so. The creative dance of Shiva Nataraj, creates every creature, whereas the dance is product of cosmic Meta-Symphony, of primordial Meta-Tune.
Definitely there’s no better artistic-sacral explanation, all these in Meta-Galactic plan.
The Shaman dance; a product of objective music extracted from eons and multi-dimensional hyperspace of subconscious, follows that hidden tradition creating a dynamic visible forms which in absence of adequate vocabulary using unconscious analogy applying the matrixes of visible and invisible manifestations for sake of approaching to perception of a new manifestation calling it Dance, Ballet or other concept, which we still await to discover, here we leave open possibility for nomination so giving existence to something more refined mental, spiritual or astral with the aim receptor or creativity consumer to bewilder with the creativity, genius, extravagance and who knows what other of mundane artist, represents The Power of Almighty and his Magnitude that its creature/MAN to become capable to create something tangible, visible, perceptible, sensual etc.

From such dances, a terrestrial movement has been created as resemblance of a celestial dynamics. The thoroughness of such manifestation in a terrestrial plan is achieved most perfectly in SEMA (on SEMA, more extensively, look my previous work Sema, Semazen and the Art of RUMI)
In the eyes of receptor such observations are explained as impetus for transmission into words a manifestation that represents a combination of listening, harmony, body movement, music, accoutrement, all these specific, to end in ecstasy or unification with the cosmos or with the collective unconsciousness of K/ G. JUNG.

Nearly every time the external factor limits or better said determines the manifestation of such Theurgic product (artistic-sacral) and the tendency of this product to decrease is persistent aiming to be easier absorbed. This psychic catalysis may not be necessarily mala fide, but in other hand the affinity increases, the insufficient absorbing force for decoding the imperceptible Universality until that moment respectively.

For such creative treatment, for the creation of new forms( in every dimension, field, act) necessarily creates from individual an ascetic and since Asceticism is Magical the individual pays the high price his longing to return from solitude into visible plurality amidst the mass is high and after he returns from this second he understands the price he paid. For sake of the paid price that what he discovers in his Asceticism he resurrects, gives existence with the nomination.
Such investigation necessarily narrows into a Word (I speak here for all kind of creativity) because the space is narrowed that the overload of elements suffocates the harmony therefore it has been said much and understands little, little emphasis so to arrive up to primordial archetypal Oration we have to arrive till the Name, Notion.

Such an outpour of passion is product of self-discipline. Maybe such achievement is manifested at Yves Klein in Painting and mono-tune symphony. Maybe the single- ton is sufficient to create a symphony, the Magic of EGO.

We are awakening (however) sink, survive from such burden are occupied with Infra-acoustic symphony and its happening without us, with us, in a front of us, behind, au and down us; is prove of our sat-back to simultaneously be in Gestalt and Synchronicity with the creative Pleroma of higher spheres.

The Stopping for the moment leads us to Meditation, to de-automation of our routine acts, sink into meditation swallows us and after the return we give nothing else to the things/ manifestation than new emphasis.

In creative poetic engagement the solutions are found at evocations of literary archetypes impregnated with our images and nostalgic odors in cornucopia of visual manifestations undressed in visible fluids, instant aggressive images.

The isolation from the mass the creating of works without authorship, unpublished that ends up in to flames of spiritual poverty almost today is impossible. Necessarily the mass ought to ask the poetry. It is written for them, the author shall not find the communication code, the mass shall enrich its gusto with the fruit of isolation and author’s suffer. There’s no painless birth. The fear of death is the fear of new birth which is painful.

The poet of Royal abode, poet-prophet, holly poet, and the poet of literary-artistic clubs, the poet of diplomatic lounge, the isolated poet, ideology poet, and historical poet is dead.
“Knowledge of Poetics has little value if lacks the poetic gift. Knowledge of Poetics by one who is not gifted is akin to magnanimity of the poor, martial art to coward and more than that.
Neither its sin nor the vindictive not being Poet, but to be a poor poet is equal to death”; said Indian critic and poet, Bhamaha.

The mass shouldn’t read literary testaments but living word, the mass doesn’t have time, money, energy. Awakening of mass have entombed the Poetry; freedom of speech; the channels where the freedom of speech flows have created the bed where it flows. Now we need more Numinosity.

Accent religieux- is transformed into Science fiction, the Philosophy into Sociology, Religion into Psychology, Art into Aesthetics, Politics into Urban culture, Mysticism into ritual, Ritual into Game etc.
The man is returning to his childhood with the permanent tendency for gaming, until he arrives to Holly Laughter. I have acclaim Laugh holly; oh sublime men teach me to laugh- said Nietzsche in Zarathustra.

More than change tendency The Sacral Art acts to create a Beauty as Being, because things that doesn’t change throughout human history are; heart, human love for all creatures and the tendency for holly achievement as beautifully observed by Chagall.
“Everything may be changed in our demoralized world except, heart human love and his tendency to understand the divine. Painting just as Poetry is part of the divine; today people experience the same as in the past”, Marc Chagall.

It is not late and maybe timely to say that the concept of Rudolf Otto-s, the Numinosity is the dynamics the artists nowadays need either in Literature, Painting, Installations, Fashion etc. For the Numinosity more individual and collective freedom we shall possess. Kandinsky somewhere wrote; every epoch is bestowed with individual amount of artistic freedom, even the most creative genius can’t exceed the limit of this freedom.

Therefore act in the frame of this freedom takes another compulsory Involutive attribute for our era of intellectual, artistic, spiritual maturity of mankind, inner spiritual development which emits the specter as product of sacral creativity respectively.