Summer Recollections

Skopje ili Beograd

Skopje ili Beograd,

DSCN0452It plays through the stereo


The bus driver gets up at

the stoplight to put on shoes


Karta? Tickets out and ready.

I hum with the radio.


Skopje ili Beograd,

eventually I’ll choose

Abandoned Buildings DSCN0156

Abandoned buildings,

shells of homes,

skeletons of yesterday.


Stone walls, chipped

and crumbled.

Wooden beams lay



Abandoned buildings,

what was your hayday like?


And tell me please,

are we all

abandoned buildings in the making?

How to Hate a Stranger

DSCN0169How to hate a stranger?

I’ll tell you how.


Stare into a photo

and see only conniving eyes.


Stalk the internet

searching for a reason.

DSCN0227 _

Let the dark into your heart

and let your demons cry.


For to hate a stranger,

you must first hate

the self.


Sometimes you’re on a bus,DSCN0363

between here and there.


Sometimes it’s drizzling,

or maybe raining.


Sometimes you’re surrounded by mountains,

dark and overwhelming.DSCN1192


Sometimes you’re in Bosnia,

or Serbia,

or somewhere in the middle.


Or sometimes you’re in Serbia…

In Bosnia…

Artsy Fartsy

She told me once,

Do something useful,

practical and sane.


Make yourself some money,

study hard and use your brain.


Don’t dally with the fairytales,

don’t trouble with make believe.


But whatever you do,

no matter what

Don’t be artsy fartsy.


So to my dismay,

and I’m sure hers too,


I spend most my time,

futzing with poetry n’ glue.

 Balkan MountainsDSCN0196

 Floods breaking

from the backs of my eyeballs

held back only by will

made strong by a born stubbornness


A heart destroyed,

but still loving.IMG_0719

A brain twisted,

but still thinking.


Balkan mountains,

scary and noble,

flashing past…going, gone..

Is my soul within them?

Peninsula of Haemus

DSCN0230Lighting here is crazy,

Flashing through the sky.


It doesn’t have to be raining,

It could be totally dry.


Balkan weather,

I’m just saying,

Is a little bit insane.


DSCN0223I just pray,

whilst on this bus,

that lightning doesn’t strike us.


But if it should,

a more dramatic death

I could not imagine…


than a sudden, freakish death

by crazy Balkan lightning.

The Poetry of Stone

The poetry of stoneIMG_0908

is a somber one at best.


Hard and majestic

indelicate, not glass.


A river undisturbed

flowing through the mountains.


Quietly ignoring,

the poetry of stone.

When the Sky Clears

DSCN0321When the sky clears

and lightning strikes no more,


when the rain stops

and thunder disappears,


then the bridge is standing

noble between the hills.

DSCN0357 _

Then I kiss the floor

as I embarrassingly admit


I was frightened of the storm,

lightning unveiling all my fears.

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