DREAM FRAGMENTS

 

A Collection of poems by Biljana Petrova

 

 

 

  

The birth of a poem

 

The essence of very tiny detail, like a carefully placed comma, or an invisible sigh of admiration, distilled into dewdrops sliding over the long green leaves that protect tulips from overexposure, redeeming the beautiful bold color and adding a dimension of its own.

 

Then letting it go into thin air, like a weightless particle, arriving in far-away places, like a carefully thought-out idea, a blissful singular event, a flash of infinitesimal brightness, arriving at noon, completely negating shadows and at the same time completely absolving them.

 

The reign of calm arrived with these words and it is here to stay…

I am happy now and I won’t let happiness go away.

 

  

 

Points of View (Morning)

 

Over the rooftops, a glimpse of the sky

Promises a bright day…

The glinting sun polishes the imperfections

Of the antennae and sat- dishes

A blurred crowd in the view.

 

Way down below, in the open-air café

Someone hides behind the pages of a newspaper

The headlines making his coffee go cold.

And the plump lady who sells flowers in a bucket

Apparently disapproves of stray dogs

Making a show of their mongrel ways…

Somewhere there is a flea with its own point of view.

Meanwhile, the waiter takes a white linen napkin

To shoo the pigeons away.

They fly beyond the roofs

For such is the quality of their wings

And such is the tug of freedom.

 

 

 

When thoughts meet

 

 A thought waltzes with desire

Leaves a candle kissed by fire

Smoothly takes the essence higher

Gently guides the night through a wire

To its perish at the sight of day.

A dawn of hope has made its way

Caught in the zenith like a bird of pray

Conquering the weak, love can’t go astray

It may be blind and easily fail the pledge

But the other senses are honed to the edge

The world is not kind and as seasons change

What was familiar turns out strange

What was peculiar became a shape of a cloud

What used to be a whisper was cried outloud

The dream stages a ballet where you and I dance

Magical music leads sunset  to a trance

A moment never ages and never has pain been so sweet

For the bridge is stronger everytime our thoughts meet.

 

 

 

Lost in translation

 

Lost in translation

Afraid of comprehension

Transparency freaks the fish in the bowl.

A jungle made of concrete

A meaning concrete amongst abstractions

Madmen’s codes, emptiness. Double emptiness.

 

Can’t sleep. Thinking of you, miles and miles away.

Is it me? Is it my heart, my soul, my mind

You want, you deceive, you can’t understand?

Who am I kidding?

If anyone doesn’t get it, it’s me.

 

Bring on the disaster, bring out the flowers,

I’m drunk, I’m sober, I’m confused.

Lost in translation. Host of my damnation.

The cost of missing the meaning

The last train out.

Lost in a whisper,

An adamant rejection, a weird declaration of love.

Silence beats a thunder.

Like a tourist photo with limited relevance

Nothing matters.

 

Interesting pictograms. Machines. Drones.

Snap your fingers and bring them to life. Make it better.

They all look the same. Life tastes the same.

 

Put some salt in the dull soup of existence.

Whisk out the worm of meaning of it all….

Surrender and you’re lost. Cut.

Among the untouchable.

With the untranslatable.

Soon to be unmentionable.

 

One minute you’re there. Next you’re still there.

To those who don’t care

To understand

You’re gone.

 

 

  

The Anxiety of the Lost Key

 

He cannot get to his home without me

I am the only one to help him stay away from the dark and the cold.

This drawer here is dark and cold

And soon the night will swallow the day.

He must be getting old: I remember days when I wasn’t rusty

His hair was far from receding and dusty, and now he’s forgetting things.

I’m the latest thing he let go of his mind. The key to his door…

What kept him so long? I cannot think any more.

Shhhhush…I can hear steps…pacing to and fro

It must be him, searching. Is it me he’s looking for?

If only stainless steel wasn’t my quality, but a stainless voice instead

To call him somehow and make him turn his head

And make this dull wooden drawer transparent.

I know he wants to get hold of me-

I lost him as same as he lost me.

 

 

  

Crossed words

 

Somebody somewhere is writing up a crossword puzzle

Thinking up the clues.

 

Somebody somewhere is writing a long, heart-felt poem

Inspired by their muse.

 

Some kid somewhere is doing homework assignments

Chewing on a pen.

 

Some teacher somewhere is writing a c.v.

Crumpling it, starting all over again.

 

Somebody out there is writing a love letter

Pouring it straight from the heart.

 

Somebody out there is writing return to sender

As a neat way to part.

 

Someone in a diner is taking an order for extra fries

On a greasy well- thumbed pad

 

Somebody in a store wishes they picked a better card

For their estranged mom and dad.

 

Some desperate souls are writing a note

Saying goodbye in a final way.

 

Some tired officers are filing the