Wednesday, May 1, 2024




Harmony Or Illusion


I never doubted God’s power

because I never met God

between us, there was always a gap

deep and wide like an ocean


I doubt the truth

I don’t trust people

and their tendency to believe in God

it is all a pure masquerade

it is all about money

all it came to be in fashion

and fad


I never knelt before anyone

even when I was afraid of myself

I believed in the word and its power

I lied to myself

that I mastered the game of words


my childhood misconceptions about people

were deleted by my experience


I stopped trusting a man's word 

a promise is a comfort for a fool

I am not in that story

madness comes at the end


my trip to the magic

offers a new disharmony of nature


all beauty is woven in the eyes of a woman

from a woman’s eyes I draw my inner harmony

and illusions


I'm staying...


In vino veritas???


When A Mountain Climber Dreams


Locked in a painter's body

I revive all colors

all over the luxurious whiteness of the night


I am waiting for Dawn

as the most beautiful mistress

coloured by sunrise

hovering over me

as over that great mountain

under which a tamer of sunlight once lived


the smell of an everlasting flower

paused in my nose

and gorgeous dresses of autumn in a glance

not reaching the breath of my beloved

nor a look in her eyes

in which a cradled dawn sleeps


camping in my eyes is my darling

gentle as silk

hugging the pillow on which I sleep


autumn in my heart is mild and soft

as Chinese silk


the gorgeous mountain Kamikochi

is too far away


my gaze is lost in the night

while Kamikochi sleeps

covered by moonlight


it's time for new ventures


I Missed The Last Flight


The story of clouds

resembles a pigs’ dance

with every stop and turn

under a tall tree touching the clouds


a large kite flies above the planet Earth


a bird whispers something to a man


man-cloud closed his eyes

listening to silence coming from the Earth

decomposing dusk to thousands of pieces


space sleeps in its delirium

cunningly silent, preparing retaliation


bird-cloud flew into the unknown


again, I missed the last flight

to an unknown planet




IBRAHIM HONJO is a Canadian/Bosnian poet-writer, who writes in Bosnian, and English language. He has worked as an economist, journalist, editor, marketing director, and property manager. He is currently retired and resides in Vancouver, BC. Honjo is author 24 published books in Bosnian Language, (7 books in English, 3 books bilingually (in English and Bosnian language). In addition, 4 joints’ books of poems published with Serbian poets. His poems have been represented in more than 60 world anthologies. Some of Honjo’s poems have been translated into Italian, Spanish, Korean, Polish, Slovenian, Bahasa (Malaysia), Mongolian, Turkmen, Turkish, Russian, Bengali, Portuguese, French, Arabic, Tajik, Vietnamese, Chinese, and German.

He received several prizes for his poetry.

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