Poetry is the Act of crystallizing the Fluid of Soul into Word---Poezia është akt i kristalizimit te fluidit shpirtëror në fjalë ©Fahredin Shehu
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
I don’t care if your eyes are blue
As the days are passing
I grow old and my hair
From gray to cosmic blue transforms
Every crook I met so far
Dispel out of fear
Throughout the holes of the earth
In my presence the snowflake celebrates
Its coldness and its beauty
The Sun sings the happiest song ever
I don’t care if your eyes are blue
And your day is black
Nor do I care
If you hate me not
Or if you hate me just...or
Disappointed you were recently
My absence is a punishment where
You saw the seeds of your disgrace
Now after I release you
From the ties of my grace;
Amazing and Divine
As angelic as it may be
You are free to beg for
Mercy all around
To travel or even to hate others
Unselectively; only if you are aware
You disappointed God, your parents
Siblings and finally me
When you walk
The chlorophyll turns yellow
The dog walks sneaky with
The tail curved in between
The last two extremities
The pearl looses its shine and
The diamond fogs its surface
Rosemary hides its odor
Only her name remains
Bitter is the honey
In the mouth of those
Around you
Bitter is the kiss
Of the embraced
Youth even if
You don’t greet them
The milk turns yoghurt and
The wine becomes vinegar
Women you hardly are
For the God sake
Your powers are so destructive
While you enjoy in crime and
Strongly believe in your
Innocence
Fatal is the day
Oh… most fatal women
I ever met
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