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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
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Read books online » Poetry » Dance Of the Stars by Amina Jarso (top 10 best books of all time TXT) 📖

Book online «Dance Of the Stars by Amina Jarso (top 10 best books of all time TXT) 📖». Author Amina Jarso



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THE CACTUS DREAM

Among the daffodils flowing down the hill,

Sticking up above the spring tulips,

Bright and beautiful,

Supple and green,

Leaning against straight oaks,

Broken thorns stuck against scars,

Once dripping sap dried stiff,

Darkening leaves embracing the sun,

Small buds peeping from beneath,

So green but hidden from sight,

Waiting to be thorny enough to challenge the air,

Hoping to stand tall above the spring tulips.

Among the daffodils flowing down the hill,

Thick and mature,

Thorny and distinct,

Roots deep below the ground,

Cuddling the soft cool loam,

This cradle assuring today’s survival,

To reply the wind’s morning hello,

Extended another leaf into the universe,

Touch the smooth surface of roses

Standing just next to the spring tulips,

Accompanying the daffodils flowing down the hill,

Feeble and delicate,

Beautiful and scented,

Spread like a velvet carpet,

Creeping down below the dominant thicket,

Rolled into creased balls,

Held upon a network of branches

Growing towards the cactus,

This cactus…

Basking in the rising desert sun,

Shining upon the ripples of sand

Hugging the sore stem of the cactus

That stands above the plain of rocks,

Among the sand flowing down the dune

Hot and baked,

Crispy and crunchy,

For the cactus dreamtof a garden.

This garden.

LIVE FOR ME

Hold my head up towards the sky,

Don’t let the dark encroach my eye,

Don’t let them cut me to heal me,

Don’t let them wilt me to water me,

Squeeze out the tears soaked in my flesh,

My painful memories erase and refresh,

Where I died outside hospital doors,

Where I was sold in petty wars,

The footprint-less walks on the sand,

The scar of shame on my begging hand,

Show me to my dream’s life supporting zone,

Guide me to grow strong feet of my own,

Dress me in the peaceful white of clouds,

Paint me with the pure blue of sky,

Dip me in the fragrance of the future,

I wanna smell like an eagle dancing on the moon.

Wrap me in honey and silk,

I wanna feel like a bee in bed.

Feed me the sea,

I wanna rise like a tsunami wave is within.

Shred me so there is a piece for each one.

Hold my hand, hold my finger,

Lock my nail in your own,

So we may engrave our names on the clouds

Spill our dreams on the stars,

I choose you,

I need you to live for me.

MIRROR

I know how it feels to die,

To lie lifeless in silence,

To have veins frozen and dry,

With no heartbeat of your own

To pump out the tears you need to cry.

 

I know how it feels to not feel,

To have no pulse to miss,

To have no glance to steal,

With no voice to tell

Of the ants eating away at your heel.

 

I know how it feels to live in darkness,

To be embraced by cold earth,

To be away alone in some place,

With no blanket to pull up

And warm the cold patch on your face.

 

I know how it feels to want to say,

To have words strangle the death out of you,

To have emotions block your blood’s pathway,

With no life left to fight.

You close your eyes and accept this last day.

MY AFRICA- I'M STIRRING YOU!

Black coffee clinging to the curvy edges of the cup

Shining from the reflection of the lamp above,

Dark sea swallowing up clear bubbles

Brewing within the walls of the thick ceramic,

Smoke sneaking into the atmosphere,

Aroma so deep,diluted by sugar and milk,

Colour so rich down played by white ceiling.

Everyone at the table awes at the table cloth,

The room,

The spoon,

The cup,

But not you,

You are too silent,

You are far too unaware,

Wake up the ghosts of your dried berries,

Summon the spirits of every tree,

Drink up the cooling waters of the sky,

Eat of your succulent leaves, don’t be hungry

Let the neighbour trees’ berries lean on you.

Don’t fight,

Stand up and strengthen your back,

Don’t wait on them,

Raise your standards,

Am stirring you,

RISE!

I KNOW YOU

You close your eyes, stand in the rain,

Silence your pain, stare at the sky,

Tear and rain a drop, so no one would know,

That there’s more to the ‘am ok’ lie.

You spread out arms, embrace the breeze,

Let time freeze, trynna forget for a moment,

Past and future, their worry and fear,

And just be here, ready for ascent.

You turn to the dark, nothing to see,

Where soul is free, to paint your own image

Bat’s smile,

Pigeons laugh out loud,

A colourful cloud,

A good book page,

you get lost in your mind, deep into the maze

Be gone for days, just you alone,

Taking in magic from wingless fairies,

Taking naps among daisies' comfort- zone.

You strange creature, stay that way.

Don't you sway.

Be what you wanna be.

They don't know,  but you know I do.

I know you, for you are ME.

RATHER

I'd rather sit on the balcony

And trace out the dark spaces in the city's lights

Than walk into the alley and meet the hungry child

With tears dried up in the corner of her eyes

And body stuck to her fragile bones.

 

I'd rather drink a smoothie and watch them cry,

Just for  minute as the wreckage of their home

flashes by,

Than live among their stories of horror

And listen to the ghosts of their loved ones

Have nightmares of drone attacks.

 

I'd rather see your teeth peep from behind your lips

As they curve into a beautiful smile,

Than have your skull stare at me

From a genocide museum.

 

I'd rather think of a beggar on the street,

From the comfort of my warm room,

Than step over his rusty coin tin

And read the despair on his visage.

 

I'd rather read the brand of the water I drink

And ask for voss- quality assurance,

Than mingle with the thirsty white face pastoralists

Lurking in the bushes,

Seeping from a goat's urine puddle.

 

I'd rather sing sad songs of the dumb,

Than have words bottled up behind silence.

I'd rather change how I'd rather be,

But such is how my fellow human beings live.

Indifferent of the tears soaking that mother's chest,

Cold to the cries of the hungry aching orphan,

Alienated from the pain of that family in war.

 

It's not us,

We are here,

Should we go join them? No, we'd rather not.

WANING LIGHT

The earth is caving in,

And the sky is creased.

The grass has lost its green,

In the red I bleed.

 

The winds are blowing back,

And the sandstorms have risen.

I have lost all my black,

To the deep blue ocean.

 

The humming bird cannot sing,

And the cricket is out of sync.

Gagged beak, broken wing,

Life is a faded shade of pink.

 

The petals have fallen,

And the leaves have dried.

Once a multi- coloured garden,

But today I died.

IT'S NOT YOU!

It's not you

It's me, the bee with a stripped behind

The animated soul that lives in her mind.

I am just a daydreamer in a butterfly chase,

And it has led me here to expansive outer space.

It's me the deep sea that drowns its own insides,

That has drops of rain and wave roots to hide.

I am just a silly ant learning how to hiss,

And how to ensure, you hit me and miss.

It's me, me the white cloud enshrouded in night.

It's dark all around but in my belly there's light.

I am just a clumsy shadow drinking from a puddle,

Groping for pieces of my sculpture's life giving pebble.

It's me,

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