Category Archives: Poetry

The waning moon

slavonsko veče

Somewhat lazily
The night has spread everywhere
Shamelessly offering
Its deepest blue
And the stars.
And at the bottom
Of the wishing well
The waning moon
Sways
Following our moves,
Our rhythm
Pinching gently
Our melted silhouettes
Who knows, maybe
Trying not to disturb
Our panting rhythm.
Your hands in my hair
Mine hidden under
Your translucent nighty…
Somewhat lazily
The night has spread everywhere
Shamelessly shielding us
Fanning the wild flames
Warming up this bluish love nest
That we build
Upon our caresses
Our looks
Our smiles
For all eternity
For our love child

 

Advertisements

Saint Nicholas

Written: © Maxima

Saint Nicholas

Just when the evening
On the birch crown started dancing
Daddy’s little princess
On the window pane placed a stocking

And when the darkness set in
The moon light brought joy
Another stocking was put
By a big little boy

Soon enough two happy faces
Flew into a blissful dream
Knowing that Saint Nicholas
Will fill them, sure thin’

If by any chance
Big little boy’s stocking
Had a stick within
He’d know the princess
Should be blamed
Her mischief was seen.
Happy St Nicholas!

If you have obeyed your parents


photo:Santa Claus Saint Nicholas Kris Kringle

Written: © Maxima

Saint Nicholas

Mother was moving around the kitchen table, kneading the dough with a great skill, then rolling it… it seemed to last forever. It was warm inside. The earthen floor, a big stove with logs piled at its side and our cat Pero, dreaming lazily close to it. Father named him after a friend of his, a miller with big moustaches. As usual, I was under the table, teasing the cat with a piece of thread, wishing he would wake up and play with me. It was the middle of the afternoon and Father came in from work.

– Hurry up, Mata! Close the door, Mother shouted. – It has to be warm. Otherwise it wouldn’t rise.
Father closed the door quickly, smiled at her under the brim of his hat, his eyes gleaming as he said, It wouldn’t rise, huh?
– You, little devil, aren’t you ever gonna get serious? Your boy’s here, under the table, playing, and you talk gibberish.
– Calm down, he said, I meant no harm.
– Me, neither, she said, pouring some brandy into his favourite glass. He used to have one or two every day after work, for better blood circulation, he would say.

– Hey, Stipa, my pumpkin, what’s up, he addressed me. I was already climbing up his back. It was my favourite spot. I enjoyed sitting on his broad shoulders and ruffle his thick hair…
You know, Stipa, I noticed children washing their gift stockings in the other village, getting ready for Saint Nicholas’ visit. You have been good this year, haven’t you? You might get some presents, too.

-Hm, maybe not, Mother added. Saint Nicholas knows everything, he knows who did what and gives presents accordingly. If you have obeyed your parents, showed respect to grown-ups, helped around the house…if you haven’t defied your sister, have been a good pupil at school, then you may expect some presents.
-But I don’t go to school yet. And I have been a good boy, right, Dad?
-You have, my boy. Have you prepared your stocking?
-He has. He put it up at noon, said Mother and began to close the shutters.
-No, Mother, I cried. Let them stay open so that Saint Nicholas can see there are children here…and I, I love getting presents…

In the semi-dark room shadows started a magical dance, swaying like birch branches in the breeze. Mother finished dinner and set the table… At that very moment the clang of chains was heard below the window of our warm home.
-Krampus, said Father.

I gave my heart to you

Written: © Maxima

Woven in the twinkle of stars
night thoughts take me along
the path where we once wandered,
where I gave my heart to you.
The fragrance of cut grass
fresh on my hands that burned
in the passion of our embrace
of your sigh and the tremble of your lips.
You follow this eternal wanderer
of dreams where we flourish
in the warm wind of tall mountains.
​Lie here beneath the solace of evergreen
forests and grant me the solace
of your bosom ​where joy inherits
the heart and all is transfigured.
The glow of lustrous eyes seek each other,
the wind moans like lovers in
the valley where together we release
the chains of distance and know we
are beloved forever.

Hand in hand we disappear into the dream

A Song

Today the cobblestones are coated in snow.
I envision you in the thick opaque mist of a
sweet sugary dawn the way it is
when you were near.

Hand in hand we disappear into the dream
where I ask you how you slept.
Did we dream the same dream of fragrant roses
and freshly bathed skin as soft as butter
and pale pink berries from your garden.

Without you, I feel that I am nothing.
I wait for the day to possess your every dimension.
To whisper all my visions and smile
when you blush like lovely roses.

I wait to take you into my arms and
open our days to joy.
Until then we shelter in treasured dreams
where we exist on sacred words.

 

This world to me

Written: © Maxima

As rain floods the
the thirsty ground
drop by drop you
flow into my soul,
and like the sun you
warm my heart granting
renewed strength.
Your hair and eyes,
smiling lips…your hands
fragile as doves,
mean everything in
this world to me.

 

Give Me Your Hands And Close Your Eyes

Written: © Maxima

On tihis special day. The perfect sky, the morning blossoming with
fragrances of freshly bathed bodies, strong colognes and sweet perfumes, sleepy passengers reading their daily paper and cradling cups of cold coffee. Occasionally one could hear casual conversation, greetings and smiles as we boarded the tram.

I forgot my spiritual wanderings and half -nap at the sound of a divine voice. My eyes followed the soft chime to a beautiful smile and vibrant eyes, a face as sweet as a morning bathed in dew. I wandered between the seats until I found myself standing beside her, motioning at the seat next to her, I bravely inquired, “Is this vacant?”

There are a million ways to express a happy feeling, to engage in conversation, but I was so taken with this beauty I could not recall any…I sat quietly. She waited for some word from me, some simple word but it would not come… My mind searched for a gentle way to approach her. I wanted to say all the things storming within me but could not find the words I needed to connect with her. I feared we would part at our stops and never meet again…and me, so very in love, never dreaming that I would ever lay eyes on anything as beautiful as she.

 

The sun is high
A hot summer day
My desire walks behind you
Sun-tanned, smiling
It follows your steps
As hot as the sand
Under your bare feet
As you run, fresh and cheerful
Like those waves touching
Your knees
A colony of ants
Is heading home
I whisper to them
Do you see her beauty?
She is my happiness
I’m taking her home.