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Pesmi
Pesmi

Prišel/odšel

05/08/2014 No Comments

Odšel je,

nihče ni vedel, kam,

sam,

govorili so, da je bolan,

neprespan vsakdan

je zrasel čez krošnje,

vedel ni nihče,

če hoče tam tudi ostati,

zaspati sam …

–

Prišel je,

nihče ni vedel, kdaj,

zakaj,

govorili so, da je rešen,

potešen namen

je napolnil reke,

vedel ni nihče,

če hoče tu tudi ostati

in zaspati …

–

Ne,

nihče ni vedel,

ko je odšel, je prišel,

ne da bi zaspal,

je pa sanjal o krošnjah

in rjovečih rekah,

ki so se mu pretakale po telesu,

pa tega opazil

ni nihče.

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Written by: Damjan
Pesmi

Metamorphosis; or a nightmarish change

No Comments

the heavy leaves stirring

at midnight;

a black figure rushing through the forest,

his head turned

to see a black wolf.

the sweat coming down the face

as the howling wind tore at his face.

a feeling. he knew.

she was coming to get him.

still running madly he turned and…

…boom! into the tree.

he fell into the mud, the dirt

seeping into his body. there was

nothing he could do.

she was coming down at him!

the strong and rough hands pulled

him up in the sky

and onto her shoulder.

the helpless feeling again

rushed through his mind.

countless minutes passed

through the Oblivion,

where skulls and corpses were staring

he could see her white gown

and her muddy feet.

the atmosphere was something he

could not bear

(hey! but what could he do?!)

until the heart

squeezed by the fear

began to breathe again.

they passed through the pool

from the misty shadowlands

into the care-free, sky-blue,

flowered, honeyed, beed countrylands.

he let out a sigh to see no wolf

(or in disguise)

but blue-rounded eyes

(and mouths) to point happiness.

where was he?

probably dazed by the sweet smells

of hers he forgot to ask for the map!

“because she’s killing me!” he thought.

alas!

they journeyed here to

see the fruits of cupid’s arrow

beware! too late!

he was shot dead through the

heart.

by the cupid’s arrow!

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Written by: Damjan
Pesmi

ti sprehodi

No Comments

sprehodi po obrežju niso bili nič posebnega

voda je imela moten odsev

drevesa niso bila rastline

le povešeni grbavci

obletavali so jih mrhovinarji

dišal jim je vonj

po umrlem listju in praznini lubja

ribe niso plavale le nemo strmele

vame

gor nedaleč v dolgočasje

čas se je ustavil v teku

ne vidim dlje kot do prve veje

še ta me spominja na beraško palico

na katero vrba ni ponosna

moli jo meni a jaz le molim

da ribice ne bi bile tako ironične

da se mi ujede ne bi tako režale

seveda da drevo ne bi bežalo stran

od mene

ne pozabim da ni nič posebnega

vonj po mavričnih luskah

me spravi v tako grozo

moj želodec pride do številke osem

ko pobruham tla nagnetena z gnilim listjem

nenavadno mi spodrsne

živ dolgčas prazen želodec povešeno življenje

sprehodi so res vsakdanji

če tebe ni

Continue reading
Written by: Damjan

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