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
Starts with the a drop, hardly visible to human eye;
migrating through phases, changing shape, evoking sounds.
From below and from above together
becoming river; running unmercifully through
heavy stones and soft sands:
it’s a burble in the nearby forest
sometimes is a messenger of a tempest, cobalt-sparkling weather
when at last, becomes an ocean
remarkable and vast, yet infallible and modest
the giver of life, the purpose of any notion.
Maja S. Todorovic
It had a triangular shape – reminded me of a miniature souvenirs you would find on the crowded streets of Cairo..But it was light as feather, as a snowflake resistant to melt on my fingers. It had the color of sinking west Sun. The skin was crisp and fragile. I played with it in my hand for a while. It’s cookie like any other cookie you are eager to eat. But this one, instead of delectable white, sweat cream hid just few words I was reluctant to read.
Everybody believed:
The truth, curled in this little floury shell is just waiting to hatch out like a baby lizard from its egg, wanting to develop into u full grown destiny, a path that is a head of me?
“It’s a game, just a game!”…everybody cheered around me, but I didn’t hear their voices any more. From that moment I knew:
There is only one writer
of the unfolding book
of my life.
Maja S. Todorovic
Borealis bright,
counterpart,
deactivated:
encounter in between invisible lines
fragile in the morning with
glandular geomagnetic particle osmosis.
He likes rainbow, but
I, there is no I in threesome.
Journey to the fake space Odyssey during
Kp>7!
Longitudinal or Latitudinal?
Mmmmmmmm…
Nada! Usted comprendes nada!
Olive skin you get under:
trying to satisfy stormy weather.
Ultrasound inspection just under my feet acquiring
velocity of the Northern lights:
We need to be there tonight to
X-ray previously charged love.
You and I, preforming the language of stars,
zip-locked by sparkling green stain in the sky.
Maja S. Todorovic
Just like nature
succumbs to tree cages
sheltering green, bony weakness
as zoonosis attacks,
you have little part of you
that turns against you:
You battle,
extrapolate
closing all doors and windows,
drown, dreaming of sunbeams.
Maja S. Todorovic
You promised
Ocean rain –
do it clean,
police me.
A friend I call Desire
reads his words out loud:
“Oh, I like the way
you put me in the big house!
Your burning lips
on my finger tips..
Reciprocate:
this means nothing to me.
I’ve put my urge in the ice-box.”
If time is my vessel
(set the sail)
then learning to love,
is a change of skin.
Estuary,
won’t you take me?
Wasted whispers, faded secrets.
but no one could see the end.
Maja S. Todorovic
Business in Rhyme 