SVJETLANA PRAVDIĆ

 

 

Macrocosm

 

In the numbness of shivering body

Haunting ghost whispering I’m nobody

Because universe is constantly shrinking

In the void goes my deepest thinking

My mind is thousand light years away

Instrument that magics of dark matter easily sway

In poverty of empty space, one can only pray

For the future, God won’t death time delay

So small in eternity

So greedy in fraternity

So shaky in certainty

So limited in infinity

So faceless in identity

 

Here’s the Sun

Bring the gun

It cannot outshine us

It shouldn’t combine us

 

For the lust,

In which we cannot

control what we must

 

For the Greed,

that grants wealth

for us to succeed

 

For the Pride

That will be

our eternal

guide

 

For the Sloth,

To forgot

How to move

we don’t need to

ourselves prove

 

For the Envy

Hating is the key

Others cannot behave

Like they are not a slave

 

For the Gluttony

Drink for free

Body erupts for the fat

For satisfaction that we get

 

For the Wrath

Acting like

Immature brat

Until the last breath

until death

 

We remain living in our knowledge mistaken

But all goods in our death will be from us taken

 

Wondering Life’s Path

 

So many words, so many accords, waiting to be seen, which I am not keen

Because who cares? Who dares to read or say out loud the truth of this world?

Why does it matter anyway? It’s just an empty wall, covered with cheap spray.

And from that wall, I cannot see the rest, while I am asking: is this life just a test?

Is this just a long way to never-ending, divine, piña colada-drinking heaven?

Like, do we actually get rewarded for a good deed?

Do the bad guys eventually get punished for their greed?

Or is it just random chaos, making this world fall apart?

And why do we even live or, in overproduction, make art?

It’s like a fish dancing on the shore without a hand to put her back in the water,

Or like a bird left without wings, to walk and be aware.

Do we have any free trial before we enter this place we call motherland,

Or do we leave in hope it will be better, and that bad moments will end?

Whatever the answer is, or whatever we think, our life continues.

We just try to forget all the misery surrounded with bad news,

Forgetting, on better days betting, nightmare-bed sweating.

At the end, what are we, out of all, getting?

 

SVJETLANA PRAVDIĆ

 

SVJETLANA PRAVDIĆ is a dramaturge, writer, and poet born on February 2, 1998, in Banja Luka. A graduate of both the Gymnasium and the Academy of Arts in Banja Luka, she specialized in dramaturgy and was honored as the student of her generation. She has authored scripts for numerous short student films and worked as a ghostwriter. Beyond her academic pursuits, Svjetlana completed courses in sewing and Japanese language studies. Her poetry collection Dunengras und Blutmond, co-authored with German writer Peter Volker, was published in two editions by Engelsdorfer Verlag in Leipzig. Her academic work appears in several scholarly collections. Svjetlana has worked in various theatrical roles, including assistant director for King Ubu at the Student Theater in Banja Luka and dramaturge for Hedgehog’s House at the Children’s Theater of the Republic of Srpska. She was also engaged as a dramaturge at the Cultural Centre Banski Dvor on musical productions, and excerpts from her play Teuta were performed at the Serbian National Theatre in Novi Sad. Her poems, short stories, and essays have been featured in numerous anthologies, and she has received multiple literary awards for her contributions to contemporary literature. She currently works as an online English teacher for a Japanese company.