POETIC JUSTICE

There are problems that challenge our ingenuity. There are events that challenge our attention. There are people that challenge our beliefs. And then, there is art that challenges the imagination, touches the heart and engages the brain.

It started with a challenge set up by Brooke who dared Tom to upset the universe by inviting him to take part in a poetry game. Both earthquakes brought about by their poems resulted in damage of varying severity with violent shaking extending to far-off locations. The ground shaking is expected to cause landslides, and avalanches in days and weeks to come. The cup was then passed to Wulf whose poem was felt across great distances, apparently thousands of miles from the epicenter. The ground opened up and there were numerous instances of severe injuries after people had fallen into fiery pits. He then passed it to Susan whose poem led to a deadly quake, with a warning made only minutes before it struck, causing total destruction and most likely permanent changes in ground topography. The cup, one of the lucky few survivors, was passed to me yesterday evening. I’m still wondering how I made it.

I am honored beyond words to have been chosen to join this wonderfully unique tribe. I like big challenges and they rarely come much bigger than this. You set a high bar, my dear friends. Please take into account the fact that I was in junior high when I first attempted at writing poetry. Needless to say, this is when my endeavor to be something I was not ended.

Anyway, this is my first poem ever since. So, be gentle.

Let’s challenge the rapids together, my fellow rafters, shall me?


 

WHERE I’M FROM

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.


 

Aftershock…after aftershock…after aftershock. The ground is weak and giddy long after a sequence of strong earthquakes prompted by their poetry. So far, it has been shaken by an idealist, a visionary, a romantic, a philosopher, and a realist/wishful thinker.

It’s my turn now to pass the cup to the next poet. I spy with my little eye…..(I can feel seismic waves traveling through the Earth already)…

… a star-gazer.

Everyone’s a story, born, unfinished. What’s yours Tanya?

Author: Blogging_with_Bojana

I'm diggin' Need to grow, have to push Flicking through vinyl and feeding the rush I dig for that one and I open the haunt It's takin' all day from the back to the front I'm diggin' and diggin' You know Sorry baby I'm gone diggin' www.bloggingwithbojana.com

151 thoughts on “POETIC JUSTICE”

  1. Fuck, Bojana, what have you done to me? You are a fiercely gorgeous and complex force, my friend. You said that you feel my poetry in your gut, and that is where I feel yours. I also feel it in my bones and in my skin and blood, because through this amazing poem you offer your bones, your fire and your pain. This was an epic journey of raging joy, rebellion, humor, heartache, struggle, immeasurable strength and a big beautiful dose of fuck you! This is poetry on a scale that reaches beyond the sky and plummets with dangerous velocity. I was in tears, laughing, terrified, heartbroken, and riled up. I seriously couldn’t love you more! It is a total, complete and absolute fucking honor to know you!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. My dear, my dear, I enormously appreciate all this coming from such an incredible poet, not to mention person. But fuck, Susan, I’m not good at receiving compliments. It’s much easier complimenting you.
      Now, I have a wish to open one of those sites with advice on how to respond to a compliment. Something like, keep it simple. Smile genuinely and say sth like: It makes me feel amazing to know that you feel that way. Make sure you make an eye contact while saying it. Return the compliment, but not in a competitive way (I did my best, you know, but I’m not as nearly good as you are).
      How am I doing so far?

      I ADORE you, woman!!! This was one hell of a ride. I enjoyed it a lot and I’m happy I was a part of it. But, I’ll be happier if I go on getting to know your fascinating mind and heart through the words you bestow on us.
      Isn’t it incredible how poetry helped us get to know each other and how it brought us closer?

      Liked by 4 people

      1. I know the compliment thing is hard (they make me pretty uncomfortable and stunned) but you need to bask in it because you have done another absolutely brave, strong, fierce and genius thing. It is an epic poem from an epic heart!

        You know, I started crying (yes, you already know that I am that girl) before I even got to the poem, and then of course it was a marathon of emotions; through my tears came laughter and outrage. The poem did absolutely everything; it left no emotion untouched.

        I think that you have perfectly described one of the reasons this has been such an emotional ride for me and why I started crying at the first word of your post today. Poetry is part of who I am. It is something I hold in the center of my being, and the fact that it has brought us closer together, that someone I adore and admire as much as you has come into my life through something I hold so dear, is, as you say, incredible.

        This challenge has made me feel connected to our amazing community in a way that, for me, is pretty profound. I have had the opportunity to learn more about you and the others through a medium that speaks to me like no other. I know this may seem a bit over the top, but it is just my crazy emotional brand of truth, I suppose.

        I Adore the Hell out of you Lady!!!!!

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Before I started the blog and went back to writing after what now seems ages of abstinence, I came to realize how much I’ve missed it and how there isn’t a single medium which makes me more me. By this I mean speaking my mind openly about stuff, tackling controversial issues, questioning, criticizing and while doing this, expressing all the emotions and different languages, so to say, I have at disposal. I’ve been out of reach and out of touch as I say in my poem for a long time, so long that it made me feel less me. Writing and this amazing community of ours made me realize it and I cannot be more grateful.
        I’ve also learned to open up and talk about my feelings more, which is a bloody incredible achievement for this chatty introvert. I’ve learned to stop bottling up my emotions and be bloody over the top as yourself more often and longer than ever I’ve ever done before. I’ve learned to cherish friendship more and not to take anyone or anybody for granted more.
        I came back to life and leading it to the fullest. I went back to poetry.
        I’ve never written it, as I said. I didn’t know I could nor did I have a wish, an urge, a drive. It’s amazing how differently about the whole think and feel after writing a single one. I’m like you, I read tons of it daily and, besides eating and drinking, it is the only compulsory thing I’ll do every single day. For the rest of my life. This is how important poetry is in my life and I’m over the moon to have found sb I can share this feeling with.
        I fucking love your over the top. You just go on doing what’s you’re doing because you’re doing it like no other.

        Liked by 2 people

      3. You are speaking to my heart here, my dear friend! I feel from your writing, the freedom, the release, revolution and rebellion that has come from your rediscovering your writing self. I am so incredibly grateful that you did. And, speaking of poetry, there is a poet who I have just discovered and really love. His name is Jonathan Humble. You may like him as well. https://northernjim.wordpress.com

        Liked by 1 person

      4. So apparently Twitter won’t let me message you unless you follow me. This is not an attempt to get you to follow my Twitter feed; I don’t even really understand Twitter and apparently I often have conversations with myself. On Twitter, I am @floweringink

        Liked by 2 people

    1. You know, I had a whole speech prepared for you, with the bitchin’ fedora and all, but you got cold feet. OK, let’s say I believe that you were tied up with sth. But as of NOW, no more no, thank you’s. YOU’re the fucking poet sis, deal with it!

      Liked by 3 people

      1. Ha ha ha! Darling girl, I wrote an “I Am” over two years ago here. When I finish what I’m doing, I’ll take you to it. I’m giving you a raspberry sound – if only you could hear 👂 it 😝

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Challenge the rapids together? Challenge the rapids together?

    Oh, Bojana. Oh you dear, brilliant, fiercely, fantastic girl. There was no challenging the rapids together. There was only clinging to the raft with white-knuckled exuberance for what was the single most exhilarating and liberating literary ride I have ever been on. I have never…never ever, been part of something so magical. EVER!!!

    Who the fuck ever told you you weren’t a poet?! This is modern poetry incarnate, Bojana. This is pure. This IS you!!! No offense to any of us that accepted the challenge, but you have elevated this beyond what Brooke envisioned.

    Holy shit, but I have questions…however, like Brooke said…we shall just leave them in the spaces between.

    Seriously….I am blown away. I am just fucking blown the hell away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, honey, for being a part of my journey. I’m not done yet…Not mentioning poetry, here. I feel I have so much to say. It’s always wonderful trying out new things, like with food, or places we visit you talk so beautifully about. We never know where they’re going to take us.

      Liked by 4 people

  3. i too a son
    of a daughter
    from water
    she was slain
    over a long skein of time
    that mother of mine
    told to be afraid
    and so she stayed home
    too long and often
    she had me in her middle age
    and was not always sanguine nor sage
    so here
    is your little bitch
    a sad sonfa bitch!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. do not sweat it. i get it you are over the seas. at least you re not like that woman whom said she was worried about me but had found her soul mate. i thought shit how odd is that. and like on hee haw she too gone pfft!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Bojana. To say that I am blown away would be an understatement of epic fucking proportions. A masterpiece is what this is. All of it. I mean, I still haven’t been able to catch my breath since reading it. Who are in the hell are you? You have offered me more than a glimpse here, but I want to know so much mor​e. Umm, and by the way, I think you are totally full of shit. Somewhere out there exists a best-seller featuring Bojana poems, right? Like, what did you do, write it on a lunch break one day? What’s your pseudonym, girl? MY GOD. Okay, I am done now, but I can’t stress enough how much your words moved and inspired me. Thank you for not only participating in this challenge but for writing something that won’t soon be forgotten…by fucking anyone! And thank you for making me a part of the magic. I proudly accept the cup and promise to do to my absolute best to do as much justice to this challenge as those who went before me. Not an easy task, but a very treasured one. Brooke started something beautiful, and being a participant in this, is truly one of my proudest moments. So thank you SO much. You rock, girl!! xo

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Well, if it’s just a little…..Seriously, no pressure. You will create brilliance, like you always do, and it will be gorgeous, because it will by your words from your amazing heart and brain.

        Liked by 3 people

    1. Dear Tanya, I never would have thought I would get so much positive feedback after writing sth I had do idea I could. While obviously blowing everyone away, I surprised the hell out of myself too. I didn’t write it on a lunch break, but it didn’t take me long. It was an unrestrained flow of emotions that kept pouring and pouring out of me.

      I’m still processing the whole thing and I know it’s gonna take a while….It’s fucking 6am here and I’m still nowhere close. As I said, it’s gonna take a while.
      This is what things like writing challenges are all about. To challenge our mind, and search our soul, heart and conscience, thus feeling rather than analyzing and thinking about our feelings or reasons for doing or not doing sth. I’m thrilled it’s your turn now and can’t wait to see yet another journey I’ll be a part of.

      Just so you know, to say that I’m touched by your words would be an understatement of epic fucking proportions.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. If you’re not a fan of the traditional poetry, there are some amazing modern poems out there. You’d be surprised.
      This was an experiment on my part, but for me, poetry is the the purest and most sincere and exact expression of our thoughts and emotions in written form.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. This is absolutely spectacular! I have more to say, more to add, but I’m heading on a road trip in mere minutes. But to have read this, just before a 3-hour drive, well … wow.

    I’ll read it again, and all these comments, when I get there, or back. But I already agree with the gist of what I’ve seen. What Susan said, and the Wulf. You are a poet’s poet. A majestic queen. 🙌🙌🙌

    Isn’t it amazing what happens, with poetry, when we stop thinking and start doing? ❤️

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Holy fuck, girl. I had to come back to this one. I read the first part and knew we were in for ‘a force of nature’, but this. THIS. I had to walk away, let it sink in and read it again…and then again
    It feels like an injustice to try to find words to celebrate yours: the way they dance, demanding to be seen and heard and felt. I had no choice but to jump in, hop on, hold tight and lunge forward so I could get to the next as quickly as possible…and then go back to the beginning and do it all over again.
    Fuck being gentle, I want to shake you (gently, of course) until you promise that you won’t consider this “the end of your endeavor” because this, in the most extraordinary way, is you…

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I read something beautiful today: ‘I need poetry because poetry needs us. To breathe life into it by reading it aloud, discussing, educating, appreciating, and living it.’ I read it daily, different stuff, Romanticism, Realism, contemporary poets…

      Now, writing it is sth else. What I wanted to do with this poem is speak the truth, dissect myself, cut myself open till I started bleeding. Then I symbolically licked my wounds by acknowledging, accepting, and learning to handle it all. I didn’t want to romanticize my life, because it hasn’t really been a romance. I wanted realism in its rawest form, I needed an emotional roller coaster, disturbance, confusion, I wanted jarring reality. I spoke without restraints, without shame or guilt, which I often do in my prose. My writing needs to be truthful, and direct, as well as sarcastic/humorous to be easily digestible. Humor is how I deal with hardships and painful memories. I’m not trying to make them seem nicer, but I think if I tried to process them rationally every time, I’d go crazy. So, I spill my guts willfully, I confess my secrets and traumas, I speak freely. That’s why it’s so intense. Interestingly, I don’t do it so easily in real life. I still need to learn to do it. I find writing very therapeutic. One step at a time.

      Thank you, Brooke. Thank you. (I’ll think it over.)

      Liked by 3 people

  7. Hi dear, You’ve got the hang of it :)! How are things? I guess you’ve been busy writing…when I read your texts it is as if it comes out easily, but I guess you need to put some time on them :). Very nice. Take care!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey dear. I’ve been thinking about it. We’ve all been sick for a long time…..too long, but slowly recovering.
      I wrote the poem unexpectedly easily, like when you have a burden and need to get it off your chest. Other texts require more time.
      I’ll see you once I’m 100% fit, ok? Kisses.

      Like

  8. I swear I couldn’t find the reply box before. Maybe I was dazed from your powerful words and the outpouring of love here in the comments. 🙂 Thanks for reaching out on my blog Bojana. I look forward to reading and connecting more.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Imagine that we are in a quaintly decorated main space of a traditional theater like the Prague Opera house ( where Mozart presented many of his operas for the first time) and you come out to salute your public. I am in the first row and I jump to my feet to applaud you non-stop for several long seconds. Excellent work my dear! Fist of all, I did feel the thrill of just about taking a jump over the waterfall in a rubber-boat with you. I always pondered whether to write some poetry or not but I never dared to take that step; perhaps you might help me sometime. Second, I love your recollection of the sometimes contradictory but always exciting combination of sociological,cultural and economic factors that blissfully created that marvelous being that we call “our Bojana” Third. I like the enumeration of movements that you deeply dislike but I would have included “feminism” as well. What I didn’t like is that overt, challenging invitation to guilt-free enjoy the hidden charmes of your body dear. Too tempting.
    Un grossissimo baccione. A posto cara amica.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I didn’t know I could either write poetry. I spread my thoughts on a piece of paper and this is the outcome. I’m still wondering if I should go on. I’m still processing this one.
      Second, vous avez raison, I am contradictory. You’ve noticed it (aren’t we all?!) and that’s pretty much the same style I use in my prose.
      Third, I did think of feminism but I was wondering if I’m actually strongly pro or against it so I decided to pass (this time) till I figure it out.
      Lastly, I bet you liked that open invitation as you called it, otherwise you wouldn’t have called it tempting.

      Buona giornata e tanti baci, dottore.

      Liked by 2 people

  10. Good morning dear Bojana. I woke up happily expecting to read some of your challenging, exciting commentaries. But no! Only two meager, pitiful “likes” in two posts. Are you still angry at me for passionately praising you so much?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. NO dear, that’s what I tried to tell you. I sent a comment but then couln’t see it on your page. Can you check you spam, it could have ended up there? It’s a shame, I was so inspired, and, badly enough, I never saved them beforehand on my computer.
      I’m not mad, told you. You can go on passionately praising me.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. I don’t know what you were doing when you were not writing poems, you should have started this a long time ago, this is what you should have been doing.
    Your poem moved me and settled me, showed me love and hate, kicked me and consoled me, made me laugh and made me sad. It rose me me up and then pushed me down. Your poem is so fragrant and is made up of all the emotions and abstracts this world is made up of.
    Wonderful!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Vikash, do you have any idea how deeply touched I am by your words?!
      Hands down, I wasn’t sure what I was doing. That’s the beauty of poetry, I guess. Pure emotions. I jut let go and let them pour out of me onto the paper. Without thinking, without processing them.
      I will be back with more. I need to.
      Thank you. A lot.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I don’t know about me, but you’ve moved me the way words can’t express. And the flow with which your emotions painted on paper with words, took me to a dream world filled with reality we refuse to accept.
        Thank you for this and please be back soon …

        Liked by 1 person

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