I am from witches. I am from bitches
I am from demons. I am from ghosts
from cockroaches and from moths
from snakes and from dragons
from seraphims with flagons
I.AM.
I am from water and from flights
from eastern darkness and southern light
from northern distance and western might
from betrayals and from trusts.
I am from smiles and from frowns
from flaws and from scars
of perseverance and wishful thinking I am composed
I wish, I wish…
of non-perfection. I.AM.
Once upon a time, I was killed from the air.
Big Daddy’s whim.
An attack with a knack by someone with a flair for external decorating
someone who didn’t care about fellow Earthlings in a kingdom far far away
you’re not my masters nor the heirs to the throne of the world
you who blare up in the air, paired up with like-minded spirits. Beware, for
you’re just numbers for many out there. We shall all die one day.
Despair no more. We’re square.
I was stuck with a needle, I was tied to the bed
I lost my head (too much to mention)
aching, I said,
I need a med
I bled, I shrank, a shadow of my former self
oftentimes I fled (too much unsaid)…
Until one day I saw a flickering light ahead
and thought: ‘Drop dead!’
I’m off to get some French bread.
I’ve traveled afar, but
was out of range and out of reach
out of touch
away and apart, broken asunder, disjointed, disconnected, split in half, torn to shreds.
Touched by new friends. Strangers once. Skinheads for all I care.
I am from my son, from my women and my men,
from a profound silence, a profound chasm,
from profound sleep awoken
A profound thinker who renounced reason (sees no treason)
howling at the Moon. The rooster going cook-a-doodle-doo!
at the crack of dawn, ah bon?
I’ve dived to the ocean depths and aspired to great heights
I’ve touched the bottom
I’ve reached for the stars
I am not from here, I am not from there
I’ve seen paradise and been through hell.
I am from connections, separations
taking action to desperation
I am recollections. I am retrospections;
from equations to tax evasions
from elections, masturbation;
invaded, misdirected.
I am the stroke of a pendulum repeated in a back-and-forth motion.
A request I am
Redirected to a different department.
I am confessions over coffee
From a connection to an obsession
One Direction
One Conviction
A black Caucasian with a Persuasion. I.AM.I
who cries
Fuck colonialism, imperialism, absolutism, fascism, nationalism, radicalism, terrorism
Fuck racism, sexism, immoralism, determinism, egoism, ageism, heterosexism, classism, ethnocentrism, plagiarism, hypothyroidism and veganism
Fuck communism, fuck capitalism
Fuck ME baby, please fuck me! (Oh, fucking hell!)
Hail altruism, pacifism, humanitarianism, criticism, hedonism, onanism, conceptualism, if you will.
Atheism or deism? (If God were a DJ)
I am from sensibility to utter nonsense
from the utter limit, I utter a growl. I utter a ‘no.’
Utter bliss. I see an utter fool that is me.
Utterly in love with words. In love with the silence.
In love with the absence, in love with the presence.
In love with the Sun, over the moon.
I am yours but don’t fucking belong to you
I am myself, and you are too.
*The poem was originally published at Blogging with Bojana where you can read more of her work.
Oh fucking hell is right. This is still one of the most amazing poems I have ever read. Ever ever ever!!!! I remember how you shattered my world with this one…and what beautiful pieces I became.
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I promise to shatter it more in the future. Can you take it, dear?
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Yes. Please shatter more.
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Damn skippy.
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Hey…where did you learn that expression?
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I sparrow told me. (Or was it a wolf?!)
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I read this now and feel the beginning of something so powerful and intoxicating. It set something in motion, and on fire, that is glorious and raging and so fucking gorgeous. You are a force of nature, Bojana. You know what comes next!
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MMm, yes, I do. Poetry months, here I come.
Hugs and kisses.
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Still one of my all-time faves! 👏👏👏
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Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Tom.
I’ll be away for a while, but will still be posting, poetry though. Can you take that?
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Wait, what does “I’ll be away for a while” mean??
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Like 3 months away. Heading to Serbia next week. But, don’t worry. I’m getting that damn phone and will make sure I get some Internet package while I’m there.
Not going away for good. I’ll be around, lurking…
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Your daily presence will be missed! I mean that; that is not mere words composing an empty sentence. I rely on your wit and wisdom to guide my every day. I’ll expect stories upon your return!
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I’ll still be around, so you’ll have my wit alright.
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I’ll take what I can get!
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A bold one. From “equations to tax evasions” you’re certainly not one to wait around a lifetime for peer review to know your conclusion.
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Nope, I’m not the one.
Thank you.
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Wow!
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Danke, Michael. Wir haben uns lange, lange, lange….zu lange night gesehen. Alles klar bei Dir?
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Hallo Bojana! Stimmt, ich muß mich entschuldigen. Noch bin ich mit meiner Blog-Neuinstallation immer noch nicht weiter gekommen. ;-( Sonst ist alles einigermassen in Ordnung. Ich hoffe auch bei Dir?
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OK, ich habe mich gefraght, wohin du verschwunden bist.
Mir geht’s auch gut. Ich fahre nach Serbien in 10 Tagen und kehre erst ende Sept.zurück. In der zwiscen Zeit lies du meine engagierte Poesie.
Wir bleiben in Verbindung!
LG
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Klar Bojana! Danke für Deine wirklich schönen Postings, die immer wieder zum Nachdenken anregen. Wünsche Dir eine schöne Zeit. Hoffen wir, dass Bayern zu Deiner Rückkehr noch eine Demokratie ist. 😉 LG Michael
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LOL. Mal sehen, lieber Michael. Mal sehen.
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And to think this was your poetry debut! These are all such explosive lines. Fucking wow! My favourites has to be the last 2 stanzas. “In love with the silence. In love with the absence” love that.
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Dankie (vir die maan en terug).
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Lol.
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A student of mine is doing texts about S.Africa a lot lately, so I learned many things I didn’t know before. Speaking of which, I never heard what Afrikaans sounds like so I googled it and what do I got – Charlize Theron speaking it. Fucking hell. It sounds new to me, though I could understand some words because of the similarity of Dutch and German but is, regardless, very peculiar, to say the least.
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Haha, yeah. Though her accent has since morphed into something surreal. But yeah, she’s afrikaans.
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Oh, who cares when she’s sexy as hell.
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I can’t argue with that. Haha
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You’re kidding, right? Yes, you are.
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To paraphrase Jerry Lee Lewis, “goodness gracious! Whole lot of fucking going on!” I love fucking. And i belong to fucking no one, nor does my fucking poetry! I love your work Bojana. Well done! Fucking in Morality Park! Oh my said the spider to the fly!
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Great Balls Of Fire!!! We don’t belong. Period.
I’m thrilled you loved this one, Walt. .
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Bojana, I am sliced & diced,
tumbled, then rumbled.
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Good. That was my intention. It means I succeeded.
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You are, Fearless. I Am amazed by You! ~Kim
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Right back at you, sweetheart.
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