He’s bent, carrying the heaviness of the sky,
the day drags, light lags behind
like cape rolls over dry land.
Air spreads the sweaty smell of fresh baked potato
from the neighboring house.
As the incoming night invokes long forgotten rattling
of the fishscales in his boy-pocket,
tonight, at 24:00 sharp, he will take the same position:
Guardian of the fairytale gate –
with bowed head, and faithless grin he is
ready to escape his own world in dim.
Maja S. Todorovic
A memory:
His dry, pale cheeks burn
as smile begins to peek,
chain of glowing pearls
overshadows incoming dawn.
Her porcelain skin aches,
in sweet and soft pain, electrified,
under his fingers, tied.
Now: they are just two strangers
each sleeping on his side of the bed.
She wonders…,
yet she knew the answer:
“Life, larger than us,
that’s what happened”.
Maja S. Todorovic
I know how you breathe;
I know how you rustles on 7.83 Hz Schumman resonance;
I know your spaceless love, when you hold me in
enormous gravitational hug.
I know how you like to be cradled in the Milky Way,
I know how disturbed child you were 4.6 billion years ago,
how you didn’t like your first Pangaea face.
I know all about tantrums you had,
until you developed two cheeks, Laurasia and Gondvana
you liked to scratch with your flickering fiery licks,
how you erupt, through volcano horns.
and how you play with sand domes.
I know of your silica wrinkles, blue and green sinews,
running through your granite crust.
I know when you yawn in the rifting zones
in deep waters of Atlantic Ocean,
I know when you subduct your toes beneath
Pacific islands, in rhythmic tectonic motions.
I know your kimberlitic diamond bones,
your asteno-blood that furiously bleeds whenever you’re cut;
I know each secreted gem of your tissue:
layered sedimentary, pressured magmatic
or unsatisfied metamorphic,
about each cocooned crystal.
I know when you are angry or scared,
how you tremble, quake in shocks,
I know when you are not in the mood,
sending razor winds and swirling storms.
I know how you like to wrap me in your green wings
bath me in your silvery tears.
I know you.
You are part of me and I am part of you.
You are everything
I call home.
Maja S. Todorovic
Why do I need to pretend?
You say: ”I’ve always had good intent!”
yet your eyes sparkle every time
I plead for your fragile approval?
I’m not who you expect me to be.
I can’t be something you need for you
to continue your life in peace.
I’m confused, I still search
to make that little girl inside me smile
run after rainbow and collect stars;
swing on the moon and walk
across the Sun;
jump over the mountains
and play charades with whales
in ocean fountains.
That little girl is so scared,
impaired by false assumptions
she need to take care of you
instead to accept:
“Here, within myself I belong to!”
And I can tell you
that little girl is very close to finding her truth
lying in between two smooth edges of tomorrow
where she’s conquering beautiful world’s burrow
and yesterday when you held her tight to comb her hair.
Who said life is fair?
Stop to fight, let her go.
Maja S. Todorovic
There is no face,
instead: glass shelter.
You may emboss new eyes
for me to see
or take red crayon to draw lips
but shall I speak?
It’s a facade,
made of judgments,
pain, disappointments.
Are you brave?
To peel me down
to the bottom of my flesh and bones,
to the core of my soul
as I stand in emotionless nudity,
despite the cruelty of cold windy life
will you teach me to feel?
despite rejection ready to rife
will you teach me to live,
to be human, one more time?
Maja S. Todorovic
I travel
with each word
with each sound
I become
The ear of the Earth
the mouth of the sky
the eyes of the stars
with every wanting inhaled
with every longing exhaled
I travel;
I wish you come with me
at the end of never-spoken sentence
as I travel
never arriving
simply existing
in the middle
of that, those-
and perhaps this?
The chair was just big enough
for me to tuck my knees under my chin,
and curl like tired snail,
retreated in his tiny shell.
The seducing smell of fresh popcorn
or the annoying rustle of the candy coat –
nothing could disturb the perfect moment
of dreaming in front of the silver screen..
..until tender caress on my cheek woke me up.
Doctor Zhivago was long gone.
Maja S. Todorovic
He says: “I’ve done everything for you.
I’ve struggled all my life because of you!”
“I didn’t ask you to”, calmly she says.
“What I was given is guilt, nonacceptance, hurt.
All I needed was kindness, sporadic smile, a brief touch
– all that doesn’t cost much – or it does?”
Maja S. Todorovic
on this paper,
in this poem you are reading.
But I’m not in the words or letters:
I’m in the chuckle, right there,
in the left corner of your lips
as you are reading this;
I’m the silliness
which makes you want to turn your head
and forget everything previously said.
I wrote myself down
on this paper,
As I’m the poet without words and letters
armed only with parchment, ink and silky feathers.
I’m just the messenger of an emotion
flying on the wings of his total devotion,
To let you see that life is
to be enjoyed, fully
it’s a precious gem, given to you
only meant for you
to shine purely.
Maja S. Todorovic
As purple light baths me
soft and warm fog came in a cloud
to comfort me.
Evening approached, draped in stars,
and Moon irresistible, stood tall, wrapped in plastic coat
and children smiles.
Your coarse voice still haunts me:
my lamenting body answers – in sighs.
Maja S. Todorovic
Business in Rhyme 