TATJANA DEBELJACKIE

TATJANA DEBELJACKIE

THE PAINTER

For Mile Davidović

Disbelief left a trail of pink.

The Moon admired wax colors.

A picture of intimacy between a dog and a cat.

On the shelf of dreams the stars are twinkling.

They multiply yellow glow intensely.

The birds are singing, enchanted with the hollow clouds.

Rumors about new colors circulate across the earth.

The sun loses its power of awakening,

The people who have fallen asleep, the green senses.

Nature is thrilled by the wind.

The stars have mysterious movements.

And new landscapes open the old wounds.

You are medicine from a wine bottle.

In colored ink painted mark,

By which we would recognize each other,

Through the open window of a dream.

AND WHEN...

I am the source rippling through the dreams,

The empty subconscious mind,

A faint-heart yammering for a meeting.

Mmm, ha ha ah

The gale two steps forward, one step back.

The tempest.

I recognize fake compliments of necessity.

I change my clothes for another poem, waiting for the title forgotten.

Nobody alone, a moth.

With perfection I cloak the sentences inspired

The divine power.

I do not disturb the experience, it could snarl at me.

On time I face my view in the mirror.

For others I am far away.

Cheerful, cheerless, from narrow perspective – I keep quiet!

From the distance a message of imminence.

Slowly, like steel I am getting out in a triangle

In an unknown direction.

Thank you all permanent and impermanent.

Windfall of luck and abyss,

I'm having green tea.

NURTURED

Folklore of the myth

Dot on the skin of the ground.

It glows blue

Hands of the galaxy

synthetic colors

With combat faces

Conqueror, you are hurting me

sphere pierced

Overhead ...

Decompose vigil

Thirsty constellation

Breathed in races against.

Caressing refuge,

Sin whipping.

Nurtured green

In the misery of feet

Of a child that is missing

Walk instead of your son

Over the red, hot sand

Keep an eye on the passing

In the hourglass.

The satisfaction of builing

Shrilling passion!

Embers of the summer fairy tale.

We will meet me at the hall of the evening.

In the the starry cloak?

Night brings an end in the time of blooming.

Across which street to the maze?

Whispered dawn

Plotting,

Hot behind the scenes.

TATJANA DEBELJACKIE

TATJANA DEBELJACKI : She writes poetry, short stories, stories and haiku. She is a Member of Association of Writers of Serbia -UKS since 2004. Member of Haiku Society of Serbia.- Deputy editor of Diogen. She also is the editor of the magazine Poeta.