Miroslava Odalovic

(Montenegro)

All the nights of blues


All the nights of blues
stood silent when taken to the brim of the glass
with colours mixed in different hues
'this is the world drink it fast'

for the time will never stand
on top of her own forlorn lost points
nor will she feel right until its end
her torn and worn her broken joints

and no she will not wait until
the dawn and twilight have peacefully wedded
for her wedlock waters will always spill
in moments left clear and not blended

and no she will not account for the tears
silently falling to the barren soil
unless her hands-she always hears-
slap the birth into cry when death recoils

back to its fallen sky cast ashes
back to the points when a moment splashes
oblivion waters that each rock crashes
when human with her stone. woefully clashes

Submitted: Tuesday, July 02, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (All the nights of blues by Miroslava Odalovic )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. NotVery PC, Phil Soar
  2. Disguise, Aparna Chatterjee
  3. WHITE: The colour of pride, Mohammed Rakibul Hossain
  4. Elimination of Stress and Strife in My L.., K J Force
  5. Philip's Philippines, Richard Thripp
  6. less, lee fones
  7. Boven de Mens'lijkheid, Madrason writer
  8. Sleep To Dream, Arafat Driche
  9. The curse of poverty, Arafat Driche
  10. The Statue, Arafat Driche

Poem of the Day

poet Sir Walter Scott

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]