Poetryzine magazine presents the selected poems by the Serbian-Canadian poet Tanja Ajtic
Just be mine
Jealousy in me is the base wall.
With it I am a horseman in a heavy armor in France.
Jealousy in me children's playgrounds.
I, as a jellied, fruit juice boiled with sugar, I feel bored.
In my youth and squeezing space, I am the professional sworn-dancer.
I'm becoming a lively French dance, I'm dancing.
Music.
The shaving knife is under my throat.
Jealousy, like a fountain from me, popping up high.
I was never born under Jupiter, a happy planet.
My planet is Venus.
To be a clown is my job.
In my life of toys, I feel pleasure in everything.
I'm going through the time that does not exist
Measuring my purpose of existence with a stake for point and direction measurement.
I'm late for all the afternoon seats and parties.
I have no aesthetic feeling
for fixed days of receiving on Sundays,
when it was possible to come in without a call.
I get in, they get me out of the whole world.
I fly, I can only fly with my jealousy,
to fly with my stake
and measure my heartbeat
because I love you.
Silence
Close your eyes, imagine a melody,
Think it's for you.
Chase away the silence
You do not hear anything because of it,
close your eyes.
Do you feel the third beat and moderato?
Try to remember the rhythm,
Try moving.
Imagine a melody and chase away the silence,
chase away.
Play, sing, live by
looking at.
Kiss
I still feel the warm hand on a soft breast scared.
The sky is light because of thunder.
Our lips are burning into a new kiss.
My frightened heart in front of nature for a moment beats crazy,
excited.
Your half-closed eyes understand me.
As we melt into one shadow
and while the wind increasingly drifts the rain
on warm bodies
we love each other.
A game
We played a little
then we played more.
We loved a lot
then disappeared.
We always looked for each other
then lost.
We breathed together
as one.
Often we dreamed one another
awaken.
Amon-Ra
You like Amon-Ra, the main deity of the ancient Egyptians
and the symbol of creative power and birth,
like Amor, a god of love and jokes of the ancient Romans and as Eros,
you think love wins everything and that love is stronger than anything
and all your entertainment and play.
As very fun, interesting and enjoyable
with nice manners and with a relationship to the whole world
in a friendly manner you speak, but I believe you,
as a mistress in love, without superfluous words.
As a resident of a bright zone,
which one shadow into one season
throws to the north and the other to the south,
in the middle of everything, I trust you.
You've penetrated into all the secrets
of carousel, comedy, cheerful music and rhythm
in everything that signifies the joy in the world.
Now, you think just of the party.
So it's easy for me to follow you
and I trust you above everything.
We are playing,
time just waiting for us,
minutes are in question.
Beginning
I follow you with difficulties
in these dangerous times,
in this now and here,
where unpleasant experiences and memories
are quickly forgotten and replaced with
other thoughts and deeds.
Day and night change too fast,
like the Sun and the Moon,
It's a short day.
We all come to an end
where there is a new beginning,
and I slowed down,
I'm looking for your glance persistently
to find out
how much time has left to us in the world?
I trust you,
because you are a dreamer.
A river
You who live near the river
You believe in images of little gods of love
in ancient Roman art
and Renaissance as well as a new era.
In a lovely little winged children entertained with
various jobs
you see them and speak like Socr
“I know I do not know anything!”
You say that the world is a property without a master
and that it is not known who its creator is?
You as a free thinker, neither good nor bad,
indifferent, but not powerless.
You see those beautiful children in the glare of the river
which flows for you into infinity and you enjoy.
You have a safe haven and enough air
to survive everything
in the air that can cause it
chemical changes and you can calculate them
only if you want.
You live in your own reflection of an image
and I believe you
that the world can be a nice place
if we look at ourselves.
Then everything is clear.
Genetics
What can I tell you when everything is in the blood.
Genetics.
Everything was left to me.
Can’t you see?
What is mine is, very little,
overwhelmed by others.
I'm not my own.
My thoughts are not mine, they are learned.
Don’t you hear?
What can I tell you when I talk to myself more anyway?
It's all clear to you. I'm wondering.
Don’t you be surprised?
What I don’t hear from the great grandmothers and the grandfathers,
it’s not to retell.
Don’t you laugh?
I say, the tribe in me constantly boils
and it’s the twenty-first century.
I'm yelling. I'm squawking. Like a bird I’m squawking.
I'm barking, like a dog I’m barking, don’t you hear?
Don’t you hear?
Everything roars in the blood, wild.
Genetics.
What can I tell you when I’m playing on my feet
the primal rhythm,
I'm dancing wild with the fire.
Don’t you see all this from my eyes?
Can’t you see?
Genetics.
And where am I, I wonder?
Where am I going?
When there’s a little bit of me.
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