MARIETA MAGLAS
THE SEASONS OF THE SUN
Poem by
I am in the shadow of that reality
that will become existent.
I feel the solar spring
when the glaciers
continue to melt at the poles.
The words are alive;
they don't burn yet,
but still, I prefigure their
blistering heat.
I do know that God is watching over
us.
He is watching over everything
and over the disoriented people
needing to find some love around
when their hearts are
empty or emptied.
Meanwhile, the sun orbits
its own hot star;
this rotation is egg-shaped;
makes new spirals
to blow the best out of it.
Meanwhile, the earth speeds through
its
northern summer quarter
of its revolution.
In the summer of life,
the liturgical Sundays
become concave
to bulge the thoughts outwardly.
'Tis green outside when the wind
becomes a force to
whip everything around.
I hear the crunching gravel
sounding
around that Church of St. Peter
where the people don't enter
to laugh, but to listen to The Lord
while the priest tries
to catch up with
old words that have been ignored
so many centuries.
These parishioners
have always dreamed
of hiking up a spiritual mountain
to purify the true inner self.
They gain a sense of each
individuality,
which is always unique.
From time to time, this earth is
in the shadow of the sun-
illuminated.
'Tis not about that darkness
belonging to those trees
reflecting the mood of their
forest.
There, the mushroom grows up
from a seed of self.
Ban Chao Gang Moo unveils their
secret.
Ban Chao Gang Moo is not a forest.
People still try to mess with
the powerful devil
in the coming Apocalypse.
This Apocalypse is hot, but not
green.
It is solar summer, not winter.
In winter, the glaciation comes.
'Tis about that glaciation
freezing everything,
especially those waves
''of the sea driven with the wind
and tossed''-
freezing, not igniting
the shadow of the life.
ANOTHER DIMENSION
Stay thirsty.
Don't look for
traditional water wells.
Be open to what you can reach
beyond the prayer horizon,
a new rainbow.
'Tis not about a rainbow of fears
to spiral downward
in a cave of sadness.
'The Spirit of God was hovering
over the waters.'
It is about a world of true love,
a Bodhisattvas dimension,
a never crying one,
but it exists through suffering.
When you're thirsty,
you can find
what you have really needed
since ever.
You may find water.
Then, you will be blessed
with what you will have.
'To you, it is given.'
'Might be given to them that
believe.'
Stay thirsty.
BLIND REALITY
(FREE VERSE AND QUINTUPLE ETHEREE)
Hollow-eyed shades
of human beings,
human beings
cogitating on jazz music,
jazz penetrating the silence
of the bleeding angels,
angels in a fight for
the awakening of this blind
reality,
wars,
racism,
asylums,
prostitution,
anxious women,
terrorist attacks,
public executions,
illegal immigration,
dengue fever, songs, low wages,
Zika and Chikungunya viruses,
human cells combined with mammal
fetus,
monetization of the objects
emblazoned clothes & precious
stones,
Islamist militancy,
meteorite impacts,
vegetation fires,
crucifixions,
kidnappings,
sphinxes,
crimes,
drugs,
cocktails,
birth defects,
huge ocean waves,
ISIS strategies,
sexual harassments,
sales of stolen artifacts,
multiple vortex tornadoes,
quakes striking near the plate boundaries,
children murdered in egregious
crackdowns,
food securities for starving
people,
changes in refugee policies,
landslides, Monsoon rains and flash
floods,
seasonal unemployment,
nuclear disasters,
smiling volcanoes,
price increases,
naked bodies,
hairstyles,
dreams,
cubes,
glasses,
gas stations,
interim work,
glacier calving,
protests blocking the roads,
new theatrical triumphs,
ill kids not displaying symptoms,
macroeconomic policies,
silent strategies of democracies,
different drivers having
different styles to run their cars,
cars blinking their headlights
while their motors scream,
screaming trees and revolvers
that shoot up walls to write
lyrics,
lyrics of jazz penetrating the
silence
of the bleeding angels,
angels in a fight for
the awakening of this new reality.
Marieta Maglas
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