Poems of International Poetry Prize “Frang Bardhi – 2016”
– English poems
Poem Nr 1
WILL I WRITE A POEM
Shall I write a poem or sing a song?
Or surf Face Book and seek a friend?
Wading through choices I just sit back
Waiting for my inspiration to shake and rock
Over a virtual smile
On my timeline
Peeping through my window
I encounter a day, dull and dreary and desolate
Seeing mayhem on the roads
Cars, buses, autos, pedestrians
Running from nowhere to nowhere
Like floating ghosts
Aimlessly, without a purpose
Or their purpose lies buried
In the headlines of smelly newsprint
Reporting murders, rapes, children being auctioned
On unknown streets of ancient cities
I pick up my newspaper
And feel the stench of human blood
Mixed with smell of gun powder
The paper cries,
“Russian bombarded Syria,
Brussels airport bombed,
Murders in Istanbul”
I wade through civilizational ruins
Through these pages
Wondering that my home could be the next
I switch over to Face Book
Searching for your smile on my timeline
Which inspired me
For writing poems, singing songs
Adding to my happiness quotient
But I do not see your brief “Hi” floating over your
Smiling face on your Timeline
I pause, A long pause, with breathe racing fast
And feel the silence growing deep inside
I go over to the newspaper again
And read a news in small print on the last page
That a suicide bomber destroyed a cluster of houses
In a small town with a familiar name
Which was your town, your home
My silence freezes over the newspaper
I close my eyes and sit back
Will I be able to write a poem hereafter?
I don’t know!!
Poem Nr 2
Night bites with his black claws,
Callan birds … silence reigns.
Only heard, very far away,
the persistent barking of a dog.
The blind darkness even dreams
Forking in candelebros
to pass the sieve memories
when he yearned for a tender embrace.
And I wonder: Where dreams die?
On the lintel of the full moon
Utopias are blurred,
the stars are lit
subtle pieces of his wounds.
Poem Nr 3
The jasmine tree
There in the back yard
standing like a gorgeous lady
roots stretched deeply underground
With many branches as own happy healthy kids
Who were naturally breastfed
All the crowd admires you…….Jasmine
Especially when wearing The wedding dress
those soft white innocent flowers
O’ jasmine plant….Iam jealous
Look at you!
How proud are you……like a princess
Beautiful with a stunning fragrance
O’ my friend ! Learning from You ,patience
You never complain
In summer ,you are a queen
Converting to a simple female in other seasons
The loss of your flowers Is not a big deal,
You simply keep dancing…a graceful ballerina
Even when strong wind blows
Today,I dare and claim that competing you
will be my great challenge ..
Poem Nr 4
The Season Hasn’t Yet Returned
The season hasn’t yet returned,
We shall have to wait for a while,
We have to yet seek a pretense,
To continue breathing in the shadow
Of the pang of broken dream,
Our feet have the shoes of mud;
The hands have a bowl
Begging for the life,
The head bears
Crested turban of grief,
We have to prop against
The wall of grief,
Wrapping our bodies in the dress of dust,
And have to wait
For the arrival of Spring,
For whom we built houses
Out of the wreckage of our own existence.
We shall have to wait for a while.
On the roofs of the houses,
At the thresholds,
And in the empty streets,
Shrouded silence yet guards,
With dagger in hands,
In the exemplary venue,
The prodigious palace is guarded,
On the blue floor of which,
A multitude of ministers
Standing in queues like slaves,
Bending hollow heads upon chests,
Adjoining palms of hands,
Breathes in loyalty of its master,
They talk in a discordant tone like beggars
Neither lives nor dies.
See for a while!
See across the gigantic mansion of the venue,
The Wind is buckled,
She has been knotted,
With nude branches of futile trees,
The crumbs of golden sunlight of winter,
Have been thrown upon the roofs,
Of high mansions of the city,
For the kites and crows,
From the radiance of a flower,
To the evening star,
Whatever the fond heart inherits
Has been brought in chains
Like the prisoners of Euphrates and Syria,
Before the master and ministers of the palace,
The porters have shut windows,
And locked the heavy doors,
The season of pain,
Sunken in mournful colours,
Outside these windows and heavy doors.
Begs for appearance to get,
Favor of the master to embellish
Its delicate existence with flowers,
It also begs for the pleasure to bind the anklets,
On the chained feet of static and silent wind,
And then it wished to set it free,
The magic of season will require time a little more
Poem Nr 5
I counted the sound of silence
wailing that marked the sun
on the ancient ship
two verses, two pieces
memory incised on the prow
I was born a forgotten earth
wrapped in the dust of cosmos
in the old book childish images
My sky painted with water colors
as with innocent eyes
I gazed the world of dreams
Poem Nr 6
My optics is full of tearful lake
When I sight view with a eyes of lake
Into the country that suffered of woe
A country flooded of poverty and nourish souls the conterminated foods
Where stream drains the heart of human
And heart suffered of what to nourish
I gaze with a terrible view
Of this great country of Haiti
Suffered in earthquake and flood
Evils calamity befalling on them
Shelters is a rag there put on as raiments
Food refuses to nourish their tum
There’re in a blink of an eyes
A terrible earthquake is what rain on them day and Night
This harrowing anguish and suffering of this country haiti
Has makes the streets filled with corpses
And blood running from underneath rubble
Children lamenting for their parents
Sound of dying vox pervading the darkness and Night
Horror hundreds of thousand people engulfed by suffering.
Poem Nr 7
WHERE ARE YOU?
Where, in that space
that chest you play hide and seek?
In my memory from the past, I look
scenes draw my wishlist
you perfect molding …
and I know you do not exist so as ideal, so romantic.
More does not matter, I think, until I feel
staring at my
with your thinking in my memory.
Wondering who will at that time
then I stop
I leave aside the fantasies and return …
In the solitude of my cold days
waiting to see the love from afar.
As a spectator, without flying without wings as it flies.
when you love and are loved, that pleasure largest
feel the warmth of a hand and feel touch the sky …
Blessed are those who carry it in
They look at the world of two
smile with two mouths
walk together, they enjoy slow.
Where are you ?
cold, snow in here
Sleep with your hands coals
inns in my warm body.
And life up, and silence dies
and born or reborn
another being, that her hair fluttering in the wind.
Where these love where?
What I look and do not find you?
Poem Nr 8
Sinful soul, I’m sinful soul!
Creepy sins, I do that whole;
Hurt an angel, Criminal my mind,
Sharp excuses, Just I remind!
Sharpness of my sins, half way I’m sick;
Through out of that things, that was I think!
No matter of that scene, nothing to that sync;
Dark devil has wings, divine angel has wind!
Sins of my own, nothing do by warn;
Burden of my own, how heavy of my barn!
Silent of the crown, bloody speaks from crow;
My sins to be hard core, my soul is now soft core!
All sins done my own, I regret from my own;
Creepy things I done, many hearts I burn!
I regret from my soul, how heavy of my barn!
Affected of my sins, how sinful Soul I’m!
Poem Nr 9
Let me ..
fly in your passion
was tired my
In your paths
Out cry alone
I remember you
wearing my face
I search my
about the remains
Mend All hands Spirits
Drops to you!!
Poem Nr 10
A MILLION LAMPS
Your benign love glows
Like a million lamps from high above
When you smile benevolently on your
The rivers of bounty gush forth in
Jubilant abundance at your bidding
The ages old parchment of my wonder struck soul
Uncurls in waves upon waves of humble supplication
You never let me down O Supreme Power !
The largesse you bestow upon my thirsting ever parched being
The showers of Your benign mercy
Enslave me as I walk in enchanted
You clasp me to your abundance in mystical swirls
Praising you seems too meagre as I chant Your Name
Keep me safe in the palm of your hand for I am merely
A beggar in tatters at your pearly gates !
Poem Nr 11
I‘ ve got you under my skin
I did not want to silence your heart
but the dawn intimidated the night
although the soul drank in your sight
and the faded moon and capricious veiled
Brashly memories that swing
mixed with black coffee bitter awakening
I have you under the skin, and the thought that flees
as a tree depended on the step of a clear sky,
I do not escape
warm wind that moistens the shards of glass hanging from the heart
in ink traces which the mind yes and surrendered
I did not want to silence your heart
but the day breaks the magic of the night
like the sea, the wind- driven waves on rocks
and shells brashly memories and wonder which tells the love
Speechless are the memories that I have
They distract me from the heart and seek refuge
there, in your whisper under my skin
I stop to listen to the song …
Poem Nr 12
The courage of the losers
He has big eyes …Ismael
a parched mouth Ikrahm,
a ringing voice Aziz.
They are far from the train of the wind
the English Kindertransport
when the war afflicted Europe.
They are the kids on the way
The innocent eyes of today,
the lambs sacrified to the cross
by land and by sea
those we see parading at the tv news
we the servants of Charon,
we hostage of indifference,
victims and possibly accomplices
of a similar addiction..
We are on the edge of the path
crowded with outstretched hands,
we… we are motionless
with our hidden little arms
that do not essay to offer any help.
He has big eyes …Ismael
a parched mouth Ikrahm,
a ringing voice Aziz.
Din of bombs
in their memories,
at the foot sores
chilblains and hands.
The baton of the guards
spares no one,
It is worse than the swing of the tides,
It seems the hunger of sharks.
Poverty, famine, epidemics.
Ismael, Ikrahm, Aziz;
To go, to stay, to come back
The civilized Europe has invented
a deadly device:
the refugee camp
to make us accustom
to the diaspora of the Lambs
to the obtuseness of our minds
to the unmathed courage of the losers.
Poem Nr 13
The Journey Freedom
Hidden In between the silence , I`ve seen your scars I travel up yonder way.
In the Valley below, over the Mountains.
I stare through a tiny glare over looking the hill by the bay.
I had the same dreams as you.
Perhaps from the same journey freedom way
I look upon Lady Liberty.
With thoughts convey I sat In my struggle
Like my ancestors before who travel on ships
Aboard from across Mother Earth.
Across the sea ,
I stood In the hands of grace my tears were heavy
But I held my Head
The Journey made me tired , I felt the peace of God
He kept me awake I stood stead fast In my silence
My tears were heavy along the way. I look ahead my
faith overcome my fear I stood In the hands of grace
Poem Nr 14
THEY WİLL RECOGNİZE ME FROM MY LOVE
Some will leave their traces, in this world
Some won’t be satisfied with anything.
A grave of somebody
Will mention about its owner,
A word of somebody
Will be left after somebody.
All will desire
To leave any word in this world.
The centuries will cause to forget them.
The false castles made of lies
Will be destroyed.
The people will know everything
They will reprobate after knowing.
The fires will be made
For the guilty past.
They will choose only the words
And will keep only them..
And ..and they will recognize me
From my love!
Poem Nr 15
What goes around this town?
I see the pain
The sorrow in this land
The children killed because of the greed
Dying many times in silence
No one heard her screams
The blood inside that holy place
The place of prophets Christ and Mohammed
What goes around?
The stones vs the guns
The guns vs the stones
I see only the blood
The land of sorrow
Her children die because of greed
And no one hears their screams
The blood inside that holy place
The place of prophets
Christ and Mohammed
What goes around?
Poem Nr 16
“victories from the unnecessary tremble”
if i am a banana, an artist would colour me in
yellow, green, red, whatever…
my fibrous sweetness isn’t pronounced
as a writer my lyrical sculpturing would be unlimited!
my thoughts my perceptions can’t cease
until i have sharpnelled the last drop
of flickering light that dwells within it…
digging the controlled mists of joy,
the mimed sadness.
in my sleep i shut my eyes
my lingering anguished soul traverses from hills to hills hoping to rest a crept of joy,
drip my fear anger to be carried by the passing wind…
that perhaps, even in a wink of an eye, i would feel Peace!
you whispered, “i am You, created in my image,
ahhhhhhhhh… no one, can ever ever ever stain you with distress… i have ascertained your exact voidness,
your specific role, your final exit, how when why…
should you fill your life the unnecessary tremble?”
my semi-conscious mind; in my window of virtual dream
i felt the sensation of your touch; my body being submerged… impasted into a scented lagoon of lemon grass,
the impermeable infinite externality,
a disc of permanence equated me to a new moi!
now i know, my time is ascertained
like a canvass of art
it’s finished completed and is hanged at the wall
no one can disfigure it
i shall not worry… i am victory!
Poem Nr 17
Magnificence behind madness
In the lordly trance sitting unaided
With dew drops, rain and snowflakes to come.
Pleased moon peep from the pleasured heaven
I perceive your oncoming steps of eagerness
It is day but I see the stars and moon
As if they ruined the law to see us together
Desired to be the witness to our adoration
I do see you walking with steps agile
Me draped in pretension
Lest emotions be let out
Viewing in desperateness- your approach
Warm breadth grows uneasy but not cold
Flowers, leaves and bud nod impressively
Envisage our spell in love
I gaze deep into your senses;
a gush of emotion rock my soul
I feel your eyes tying me in chains
Your breathe liberating me
Your touch evacuates me of my own existence
I lose my own self-
Like sand tightened into a fist, slipping away
I stay awake like the sweltering lantern overnight
Stare at the star and moon as a drunken maiden
Holding you as if embracing my own self
Quench the thirst in eyes
I grasp you as the deity of passion
Wash your feet with tears of love
Your kiss fragranced with aroma of faithfulness
Burning hands caressing my cold feelings
You wake me up with the magic wand of love
The motionless mountains –
Stationed for centuries in isolation move
Skipping spring with agile steps rest
The memories of pain gets washed away
Your hands fragranced with sweat, with love
Why are we mortals? I question the creator
Why don’t we turn immortal once touched in love
As the thirsty rain runs down
To meet the embracing earth
So do I, wait in dryness
For the rain of your sensational passion
Cushioning me to liberation.
Poem Nr 18
MY HEART BROKED DOWN
When I found him lying on the ground..
He was the only one who always…
Treated her princess…
With lots of love and crown..
My heart was opulent.
With treasure of his love in my life..
He taught me ethics and love the people around..
He was the one…
Who understands the unspoken words of my eyes…
His love was special for me..
Because I was the laxmi of his house..
I was just 19 when..
I lost my father…
Duties and liablities..
Came on my shoulders..
At this age mine…
My friends enjoyed life..
I worked for the stomach of my family..
Which engulfed in tears..
We lost the pillar of our life…
At the age of making love notes…
I worked day and night..
No knowledge of melliflous…
No flow of love…
I saw in others eyes..
Only the sympathy flows..
Which showed me weak..
But I collected the courage..
I want respect not sympathy..
Try to prove my strength…
Jovial movements shared by my father..
Only made me cry..
He was a joyful person…
Enjoyed each moment of his life..
Teaching of my father..still vibrates in my ears and pictures in my sight.
Made me opulent with his love….
Which I have kept safe in my heart…
Melliflous in my thoughts…
Made me tender and love all expecting nothing…
Just believe in giving..
All my experiences shared…
Nothing hidden in my heart and mind..
Poem Nr 19
Hart bitting for you
We are ready tp love
Look at me and will
Do tho same
I want to give you
Happiness for ever
Good bless our love
It’ s a true love
Like any other on
Love me tender
Love me do!!!
Poem Nr 20
The Inception of Creation
Someone scratched groove nuances
and discovered an invisible realm
hidden within the tumultuous sea of lunacy.
Clouds are the cotton vessels of serenity
and rain the spilled ink of a tearful sky…
The swirling galaxy of artist’s fancy
can bend the rigid wings of reality,
unleash the anger that resides in silence.
Someone yearned the spark that lights the fire
and planted some little seed of spirit,
staying motionless in his eternal truth.
Sunbeams shrivel in the subdued night
while the moon resembles horizon’s smile.
The whimsical sound of the wind
wakes the blind beholders of dreams.
Vibrancy is essential for ideas to pop up,
even if creation is dolorous as premature labour.
A verve soaked quill carves traces of thought,
reveals lost reflections of a shattered mind.
Life is the blank verse poetry of existence,
without metaphors or daring similes.
Imagination gives an evanescent rhyme,
fills the void of our own definition.
Someone said that genesis is the late start of nothing
and the early end of everything.
We are just an empty canvas
waiting for a self-portrait
full of vivid colours and sharp lines.
Find a proper paintbrush,
a magic wand of inspiration,
and forcefully drag it over the pale white.
This is the inelegant gesture of creativity.
Poem Nr 21
“My night is above the eternal time”
strengthens the night
Time shakes its cocoon
unravels the intelligence
and silk ingratitude
Time is a terrible temper:
pouring cascade of
on the lectern of uterus.
“Noone can close the door of night”
from the bossom of days,
sews with fire
Mirror of existence,
Shahmaran, swallowing its tail
Darkness has closed the doors,
reclined its own order
is a long cord
around the neck of universe
“Moon rises above the bones of night”
There are no days of fire
crescent covers her skirt with night
Copper sickle shows no mercy
reaps faller necks avidly
What can temper cover
during the dawn
scratching your face?
Crescent is a poniard
with mute larinx
It is not asked to night
the curse of shadow
“We think when the night is silent”
Night is merciful,
it fixes the sliding stars on ice
to the hair of trees
It buttons the collar of the day
looks tired to the morning
It knows who has left his breath
this reality smelling
sandalwood and amber
into what foresees
“The night was going and coming in between us”
Night undresses its color
on the silver grass
The whistles expand
the earth grow
The vagabound wind
remained from ancient summers
rubs tamarisk with scented oils
Night is blameless
its arms are thick
the atlas of skin
“Night decends on the wall as a scorpion”
The border that separates man
from the city believes that
the night is a sharp scissors
Where do the rails recede
how silent two trains
Why are the cities
the night so similar?
enters every heart
through the same door
“I saw the vessels of sky ”
the sky cracked!
Glass mares in the streets …
metal insect in the bed
of the night: civilization!
While the reality dries on
balcony rope, we accept natural
the gods and the prohibitions
No morning can save
from the precipice where
the night threw the city
“You descend slowly down the stairs of the night”
The wings of the night open heavily:
draw a silk veil over face of the sky,
the tumultuous mouths of insects
everything changes in one night,
each grief turns into boredom;
The profuse pain
that melts the heart
certainly stops in one night,
Love looks like the night
it is incomprehensible without traverse;
Every grief is obvious
every night is accustomed but
night shows no mercy to human
“You have gone through the night”
Is night iron, does it
melt in the blaze of speech?
Why is this pitch-darkness,
even passing through the fire
humanity does not see its face?
Isn’t the one separating tenderly
the shadow from the night
afraid of trying desire?
Night is a hole net
in which time fills past
bears no answer to any question
Everyone goes through the night
yet the night remains in nobody
“You were the voice, the night has started with your voice”
A handmade night, embroidery
at the vestibule, madder
summers, childhood memories
In the backyard
the ram heads cut off
fireside hungry street
Under the pillow celebration
Alas, when that time passed!
where are the ardent
hopes of childhood?
Nights are brewed in the jar of patience
now, scratching the silvering of grief
with their broken knife
“Extinguished stars remained instead of eyes of whom lived before us”
There is no other night darling,
leave it as it is, in a mess!
The night is a burden on our breast
a stone shirt on the sky
That’s enough ! confrontation
with the night is sufficient,
reality sharpens to fine down
Every night is forgotten somehow
and recalled when
the time is right
Another night is not required darling,
leave it as it is, remains the rest!
Poem Nr 22
All, that you are
All, that I am,
Losing on you!
Is the fight;
Inside myself for!
The sentiments and;
Feelings! I generally-
Felt for you.
All, that you are,
Accomplishing for me-
By being with me-
Is making me hard,
To give me a chance-
To loathe you!
All, that you feel,
For me, I know it!
Indeed, even before you;
In spite of the fact-
that you generally-
perused my eyes, my look-
in the way, human can!
Thought I don’t know
Where we meet in our lives?
Be that as it may,
at whatever point we’ll meet.
I would value the-
Each minute with you.
Far from my property,
In the remote land.
where! you live,
Despite the fact-
that through your eyes!
I experienced passionate feelings-
Your property and your life.
In any case, I now came-
to realize that there-
are ten million,
Approaches to love as you!
got me head over mends,
for the present and for ever.
Poem Nr 23
( women’s dilemma)
It is one between
Like fog, cloud,thunder
Between sky and earth
Like a bronze twilight
Between day and night
Instant as these moments
With expectations in centuries….
It’s capable of dilemma
Pushing the doubt to the brink
Between hell and paradise
For anything, of something
From nothing and everything
Like a thin thread in equilibrium
Where the soul hangs
As thirst, stutters
Like life and death
Like a crucified Viola,
Between red and blue
Like a heel at the door step
And the other on the side
Like the air
Oppressed in skin
Sacred as life
Cursed as life
We are created and sacrificed
Poem Nr 24
WOMEN ARE WE?
Look at us gently
0pen your heart entirely
we shud have had stay just like that
sweet and charm we dart
no other than lead everyone’s heart
to uphold the world online we define
we are healthy and fine
yet we forgot to say thanks
as love ahead and sorry no need to have said.
We’re lovable and still we grumble
but that just to say we cared and always struggle.
As women we’re preety
but then is it too much compatibility
fear not and just be known
that we’re fully grown
had a beautiful life of our own
as women in our daily life line
like to wave the words of mind
In a poetic phrases thats sublime…
Poem Nr 25
Moon of unforgettable nights
Only you know of my existence
Only you are witness of my sorrow
Only you understand what I’ve seen
And in my suffering, you come with me.
Moon that night these present
Because they don’t know your virtues
Fall in love with your glow to the lovers
You’re the reason of nostalgia
Where to take refuge in your light
To remember past loves.
Beautiful moon and pure and with your charm
You get the most wonderful nights
Sweets for the eternal lovers
Who want to catch up with you always.
Splendid Moon never stop shine
Because your feeding the love
Das Shine to the sad night
To accompany the lonely
In their long nights
Until your new dawn.
Poem Nr 26
Last night, I tied a knot,
To slay and defeat myself.
I could see the loop hanging
In front of my lachrymose eyes.
Unctuously it called my cumbersome mind,
And promised that it would help,
In atemporal expungement of its weariness.
Following the footsteps of my unwieldy mind,
I stood up on the table,
With a placid and tranquil perception,
Counting on my last few minutes.
I wore the wreath of death around my neck
And tightened the knot against my nape.
Then a sudden woof by the hounds,
Gave my heart a jolt and lurch
And my feet slipped off the table.
I realized that it was a kenned illusion.
I just hallucinated death.
Poems Nr 27
when the carillon
strikes the hour
I count the rings
in the marrow of their bones
as they fall
one by one
they have propped the vault of the sky
with the skin of their palms
with the calligraphy of yearning
maps of bravery in the war
and of ardour in times of peace
they have baptised their children
and buried their dead
with the sap of the earth
which they moulded
into cradles and altars
of birdwomen luring their lovers
to cast them
in armours of light
of new unions
with peregrine tongues
and when the sun tires
of the mirth of the day
and the shadows unravel
into filaments of obscurity
I shall bury them
one by one
counting the crowns
in the mark of their bones.
Poem Nr 28
To accept your swollen shame,
Unclear facts of non-planned defeat,
accelerating presence – dilatory past,
An essay from the times of fire and volcanoes,
Shrinking size and
To sail in on the glass ship!
With chipped memory,
Followed by music.
To pick up the fruit of inspiration.
Legend about rituals during festivity of leaving homeland!
To cry without emotional illusion and unstable memory!
To sail on by the glass ship,
To exchange divine dreams with dignity!
To intoxicate with the sides of the world which are going to occur…
To be the victim of the short century!
And not to experience a half of the pleasure.
The flowers are opening their petals craving for nostrils.
With the imposed stability
We left the small trails on the roads of life.
Maybe we could revive in some descendant!
Optimism gives strength to persisting knowledge.
Patience leads to taking offence.
The day of new faiths is rising!
Eyes made of glass craving to glow.
Evaporating scent of the urinated hourglass.
Flash of the jewelry is mocking human greed.
Handmade items are not based on simplicity
Of inner happiness, but the treasure of truth.
To water the tree of life with laughter!
By exalted content, the poem made of glass
Will cruise together with the sailor of the glass ship
To the bay on the other side.
Glass woman is sailing across the crystal sea!