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Read books online » Poetry » Inner sense by Marieta Maglas (10 best books of all time txt) 📖

Book online «Inner sense by Marieta Maglas (10 best books of all time txt) 📖». Author Marieta Maglas



Content



1.Making a child.............................page6
2.A delicate rainy morning...................page8
3.A ray of sun..............................page9
4.An incurable kiss.........................page10
5.By painting................................page11
6.Cleopatra..................................page13
7.Flight....................................page14
8.Let's make love tonight..................page16
9.Eternity of silence......................page17
10.Game....................................page19
11.Last love..............................page21
12.Losing steps...........................page23
13.Memories...............................page26




Making a child


Making a child
For giving love a dual name.

For saving its own sense.

For completing our life with an overwhelming sense
of happiness and lightness...

Let's make this child
By bringing him into existence,

Slowly,

With our kisses and light glancing touches,
Until we can feel him inside shivering,
In both of us.


Let's give him his own body,
This most common clay which belongs to us,
Let's give him the freedom to be born.

At that special moment

Of losing control
And fusion of souls,

When the happiness
Seems to be so much
The magical sensation
Of being in touch with God.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




A delicate rainy morning


If I felt that you would be here,
it was because your angel had touched me with his wing, like a breeze
and
you have been there, with him,
in a certainly indestructible sensation.




Maybe you thought that the angel had told me,
but he would never say,

So, I've been waiting for you,
to give me your love,
in rainy mornings
with hopeless awakes.....
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




A ray of sun



A ray of sun that slips on your sad face,
By drawing a circle,
Is not only a ray, it is light,
But my feelings,
That slip in your soul
Until your heart
Begins to vibrate,
Means all.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




An incurable kiss



Your steps,
By frightening the red leaves…..
Your sight,
By caressing the limb,
Which seemingly is searing……



The shivering limb waiting the winter ….
Your lips,
By kissing the crust of the tree;
Ligustrum vulgare,
In that special zone,
Where it lose continuously the life...
Yourself,
With an incurable and irreversible
Kiss.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




By painting



I'm drawing a circle,
which is concentrically diminishing,
with each gliding of the pencil on the paper,
until it becomes a spiral.

I'm drawing the line of your oval eyes,
which is concentrically diminishing,
with each winking of yours,
until becoming only a memory of your sight.

I'm drawing the line of your elliptical lips,
this beauty of your lips,
which is dwindling concentrically
with each whisper
until becoming only the memory of your word.

I'm drawing your great feeling,
as a noble heart,
and it is eccentrically enlarging,
until we become, seemingly, one soul.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Cleopatra



Under the mask of gold,
I see only venomous snakes
poisoning that name forever....
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Flight



When the sacred kingfisher is flying
It is frantically flapping his wings to
The sand of the sea.

In the form of a deep curve, as the rainbow.

Its flight is mothlike with deep, steady wing beats
for flying higher and higher.
So skilled at flying
Is the sacred kingfisher
And naturally suited to the sky.

In the form of a deep curve, as the rainbow.

And from that deep curve comes the screaming,
And the white bird falls
To eat its silent prey.

While its life becomes a broken winged bird
that cannot fly
any longer
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Let's make love tonight



Let's make love tonight
until our bodies will transcend their shapes,
by becoming one single corpse.


Let's make this love to be tonight
our eternal emotion of dreams
and not just a fleeting dream.
And if we will accomplish
the abyss inside,
we will be like two butterflies
released from their cocoons.
We will awake
in our novel world of seconds,
were we will subsist for being eternal..
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Eternity of silence



The wings, struggling
On a leaden sky,
Distorting the space and time,
Sinusoidally...

Eternity of silence,
Dividing moribundity,
Separating the flight
From the the oblivion sleep....

I need to save me from myself,
From the illusion that absorbs everything,
From the disillusionment that digest all....

Give me your warm hand.
I know, it is a man hand.
And when my fingers will touch you,
I will kiss your silence.

You give me the necessary strength,
So much desired, to continue
The great symphony of life.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Game



The game of seasons,
in which, if you had been the autumn,
I would have been the spring,
by giving you my flower
sweet chestnut-tree.....



The game of universe,
in which, if you had been the earth,
I would have been your moon,
by eclipsing you forever, my dear....

The game of the earth,
in which, if you had been the mountain,
I would have been your valley,
by giving you a place to hide......

The game of thinking,
in which, if you had been the abstract,
I would have been your value of judgement,
by keeping your ideas safe....

The game of love,
in which, if you had been in love with me,
I would have been your half of sphere,
by searching you, by searching you, by searching you...

The game of the existence,
in which, if you had been in death,
I would have been your part of life,
by continuing you, by continuing you, by continuing you.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Last love



If Anthony would have loved Cleopatra
with a second less than he did,
maybe he would have survived
and would have won
the war with himself.
But he loved her more than ever
exactly in the second of his death,
and therefore he died.
But Cleopatra should not even die
in the next second,
she would have to live,
in order to understand from her suffering
what means real love.
Because her love was insufficient
to fight against the destiny of history.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Losing steps



This is an illusion of time-shrinking
With empty time intervals.......
And I can feel the cosmic pulse of life shrinking in a reverse spiral.

I try to forget myself, I try to dig deeper and deeper into nothingness..
But your lost steps bring me back.
I find myself in your arms, in your bed, inside of you..



It seems to be evening, but no, the immortal mobile horizons
Immolate themselves
In the hardened surface of the shrinking blob of quartz...of the sand..

We are trying to rely their shape on our sense of sight,
Our sense of sight, that seeing-eye , crept into our vision.

Our mental vision, rooted in our mind,
Our physical vision, rooted in our astral nature.

We are trying to make them real,
But we understand that the shape can be cropped only inside of us.
We understand that the dream itself is lost, even it is nevertheless our dream,

It is lost toward the still hot quartz of the soul,
Like an imaginary horizon line of the eye the bird’s eye view,

Completely off the image....

In the offing.

And we let the time to go on......

Because


Time is a priori form of inner sense
It makes possible the cognition of objects qua appearances,

As our friend Kant said.
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.




Memories



Our love is mixed with algae...
It is tasted with salt.
It is the first fruit of a great struggle for our freedom...
Our love,
sometimes like a spring breeze....
sometimes like a hurricane....

We can see the green waves crashing
And cooling the sand....

Between this old hot sand and the new salty waves
We can feel our perfect love,
We can see its ripples
And its shifting designs, left behind by the tide
And sculpted by our steps......

We can feel our angel,
That angel with injured wings,
We can hear him, still screaming,
We can see him in a sphere of air,
So well hidden.

Or maybe we are enclosed
In our sphere of reality,
Seemingly a dodecahedral geodesic sphere....

As though being hidden in psychological twilight.....


However,
We can hear the sound
That sound just like a screaming echo....
Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved.
2010.

References:
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Imprint

Text: Copyright © ® Marieta Maglas. All rights reserved. 2010
Publication Date: 04-07-2010

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
I dedicate this book to my readers. ''Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.'' Danny Kaye

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