contemporary poetry

Noaptea Invierii

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Spring April 8, 2018

Noaptea Invierii 8.04.2018

Sunt singura in noaptea asta,
mai singura decat oricand,
bat clopotele peste tara
si eu le-aud la mine-n gand,

La mine-n suflet bate toaca
in ritmul inimii speriate
si oamenii isi iau Lumina
nebanuind lacrimi departe.

De cate ori Iisus invie
in lumea asta de duium?
De cate ori Golgota urca
ducandu-si crucea, ultim drum ?

Sunt singura in noaptea asta.
In suflet candela aprind.
Ma rog la El sa ne mai ierte
i-aud raspunsul tanguind.

E miezul noptii far’ de stele,
doar steaua din sufletul meu.
Sunt singura cu lumanarea,
Lumina si cu Dumnezeu.

Maria Magdalena Biela

Colour me gone

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, essays, Spring March 21, 2018

Colour me gone

Colour me gone

I’m just a pawn

In life’s chess game

I’m just a non-

person, a yawn,

and all the same.

I take no heart,

I play no part

In this last act

I’m game for Art,

my counterpart,

and that’s a fact.

I know not why

I’m a far cry

from all that’s known

a harvest fly

of the wild rye.

colour me gone.

Maria Magdalena Biela

Winter born

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Winter 2018 January 17, 2018

When born in a winter evening one must love the darkness, one must accept the cold: in life, in nature, in people…Yes, I have a few true friends, but this is a blessing, isn’t it? LOVE YOU ALL, people! LOVE YOU LIFE!!! 🙂 🙂 🙂 I WAS BORN once again!!!!

Bielka

January born

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Winter 2018 January 17, 2018

Happy Birthday to me :)!

There once was a girl from Romania
who ate only nuts Macadamia
she drank only blood
(descendant of Vlad!)
Vampire, she lived through millennia.

Bielka

Born in December

POSTED IN contemporary poetry December 16, 2017

Happy Birthday, Mika!

Vintage print

Time in a frame

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, Stories November 12, 2017

Time in a frame

She’s tall, dark-haired, with sparkling eyes,
her fingers swift and sure,
bent over piano she cries,
her white neck’s long and pure.

She’s twenty two or twenty three,
and to the angels talking
she needs not notes for melody,
she plays as if sleepwalking.

The photo speaks volumes of her
and of that time in amber.
She is with child, her music slur
her wings, her joy, her cumber.

She died in child birth, Christmas Eve.
Her daughter is my mother.
She gave us all a life to grieve.
A woman like no other.

In this photo she’ll always be
forever young and pregnant.
She knows not that from her to me
Time will be framed incessant.

This photo is a last image
Of my grandmother’s life.
She always will be that age,
mother to be and wife.
I play her piano these days.
I look like her, been told.
She is in silence, I’m in maze
She is young, I am old.

I kiss her photo, black and white
I smile: how odd and funny,
when time she stopped she had the sight:
I’m older than my grannie!

Maria Magdalena Biela

The laughing heart / Inima care rade

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated English-Romanian November 8, 2017

The laughing heart / Inima care rade
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Charles Bukowski
…………………………………………………………….
Inima care rade
Viata ta e doar a ta
n-o lasa lovita In supunere umilitoare.
fii atent.
exista cai de iesire.
exista lumina undeva.
n-o fi chiar multa lumina insa
e oricum mai buna decat bezna.
fii atent.
zeii iti vor da sanse.
cunoaste-i.
cuprinde-i.
nu poti birui moartea insa
poti birui moartea in viata, uneori.
si cu cat mai des vei invata sa o faci
cu atat va fi mai multa lumina.
viata ta e doar a ta.
cunoaste-o atata vreme cat o ai.
tu esti minunat.
zeii asteapta sa se bucure
in tine.

Romanian version, Maria Magdalena Biela

Powers of reason

POSTED IN contemporary poetry October 31, 2017

Powers of reason

I was walking down the street one day,
in a metaphoric truth,
when all at once and out of the blue,
an idea came into view,
Aha! says I, That’s it … Yes!

I considered and pondered, thought a bit,
Feels right, says I, This is it!
I thought awhile about the possibilities,
to explore its potentiality,
reflect upon its practicality

Turned a corner, to my surprise,
A prime example before my eyes,
A perfect illustration of the insight which transpired
In those few moments before I conspired
to change direction in my real imagine area…

That’s what I’m talking about, thought I
This is but one way this can be viewed:
I reflected and searched.
I reflected searchingly.
I searched reflectively.

Oh.. yeah! I heard some angels sigh,
And turned my gaze towards the sky,
It’s like a cloud, moving from east to west,
dissipating and dispensing a sustaining grace
upon this unawareness unaware-necessarily

Comparatively obvious, one could surmise
a relatively blatant indication
if considered under balancing conditions
under one-to-one, corresponding situations
All other factors equal – it would be assumed

In contrast, an air of subtlety
hanging in a coolish casual mystery
disguised, a disguise in dark shades, no doubt
not to not see naught from the inside out
but because naught is seen, ‘less allowed

As well, as well I may have guessed,
there was a simple reason for all of this:
a primal source of that phenomenon
lying in a shadow, lain, consequent
to virtue of a foreknown, fateful consequence

Though its ultimate reality could not be told,
namelessness its pre-existent indication,
still, mercifully, there were ways to point the way
and its passing plentifully traced
or, but not and, resurrections portrayed

In fact, enumerating its appearance
would be a virtual impossibility;
even casual attention to its deportments
reveal a sympathetic harmony of movements
which might be likened to flickers of reality

Immensely, appropriately qualified
as evidenced by anything that’s true
having unnumbered circumstantial application
independently possessed of its own justification
unencumbered by materialistic folly, it stood.

And so it was that this story came to be;
a walkabout come to a destiny
a dance around the circle of reality,
seven steps, or three, or four:
each a repetition of one step into eternity.

Garnet Shaw Robbie

Roll the dice

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated English-Romanian October 24, 2017

Roll the dice

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, it’s
the only good fight
there is.

Charles Bukowski

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Arunca zarul

Daca ai de gand sa incerci
mergi pana la capat..
altminteri, nici macar sa nu incepi.
Daca ai de gand sa incerci
mergi pana la capat.
asta ar putea insemna sa pierzi iubite,
sotii, rude, munca si
poate chiar mintile.
Mergi pana la capat.
Poate fi sa nu mananci 3 sau 4 zile,
poate fi sa tremuri de frig
pe o banca in parc.
Poate fi inchisoare,
poate fi luare luare in ras,
batjocura,
izolare.
Izolarea este darul,
toate celelalte sunt un test
al rabdarii tale,
al staruintei
cat de mult vrei sa o faci cu adevarat
si o vei face
in ciuda respingerii si a celor mai nefavorabile sanse
si va fi mult mai bine decat orice
altceva
iti poti imagina.
Daca ai de gand sa incerci
mergi pana la capat.
Nu exista alt sentiment de comparat.
Vei fi singur cu zeii
si noptile vor arde in flacari.
Da-i bataie !
Pana la capat
Pana la capat.
Vei calari viata drept
pana la rasul perfect,
este singura lupta adevarata
care exista.

Romanian version, Maria Magdalena Biela

Bluebird

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated English-Romanian October 24, 2017

Bluebird

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Pasarea albastra
E-o pasasre albastra-n inima mea, care
vrea sa iasa
insa mi-s mai tare decat ea
spun, stai acolo, nu am de gand
sa las pe nimeni.
sa te vada.
e-o pasare albastra-n inima mea, care
vrea sa iasa
insa eu torn whiskey peste ea si inhalez
fum de tigara
si tarfele si barmanii
si casierii
habar n-au
ca ea
este in mine.
e-o pasare albastra-n inima mea, care
vrea sa iasa
insa mi-s mai tare decat ea
spun
stai jos, vrei sa ma zapacesti?
vrei sa-mi faci toata munca de belea?
vrei sa-mi arunci pe apa sambetei
vanzarea de carte in Europa?

e-o pasare albastra-n inima mea, care
vrea sa iasa
dar sunt prea smecher, o las sa iasa
doar noaptea uneori
cand toti dorm
spun, stiu ca esti acolo,
asa ca
nu fi trista.
apoi o pun indarat
si ea canta nitel
acolo, nu am lasat-o
chiar sa moara.
si dormim impreuna
asa
cu pactul nostru secret
si asta-i suficient
sa faca un barbat
sa planga, insa eu nu plang.

Tu ?

Romanian version, Maria Magdalena Biela

Charles Bukowski