River Of Change Poem by Marieta Maglas

A change winds in and around
the spirals of life
and through a few notched vents
of those exhausted buildings' fabric~
sprung structures being
like in a crush of rocking bodies.

Many offbeat mannequins
search for jobs.
They look like they are ready to rock.

Any endless crisis becomes
an odd reality~
a harmful non-self against self.
Hypnotic dreams assassinate the future.

No love can live
in an infected heart,
especially when the phagocytic cells
cannot have a healthy structure
to help immunity.


For sure, the freedom doesn't exist.
It looks nothing like it must be~
an illusion for those
thinking that they can do
everything they think is right.
All the things around
lose slowly their meaning.

Maybe we will continue to exist
while rotating around the sun~
this is an essential movement.

Always the body needs the soul to live~
never vice versa.
In an ideal world,
all the voices can be heard~
pressured substance making waves.
Songs are like flowers flowing
along with a river wave,
a river of change.
Sometimes bends backward
to be existent~
is this a necessity?

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Variant

River of Change

Change occurs in and around life's spirals
and through notched vents
in exhausted buildings.
The sprung structures resemble
a crush of rocking bodies.

Offbeat mannequins actively seek
employment opportunities.
They appear to be ready to rock.

Experiencing an ongoing crisis
can lead to negative self-talk.
Hypnotic dreams destroy the future.

In pandemics, phagocytic cells lack
the necessary structure to aid immunity,
as no love can thrive in an infested heart.

For sure, freedom does not exist.
It appears to be an illusion for those who
believe they are capable of doing everything right.
Everything gradually loses meaning.

Perhaps we will continue to exist
while rotating around the sun,
which is an essential movement.


The body requires the soul for survival,
not the other way around.
In an ideal world, all voices can be heard,
and pressured substances create waves.

Songs are like flowers flowing in a river of change.
Is it necessary to bend backward at times to exist?

Poem by Marieta Maglas