Monday, April 14, 2014

"Sober" Poetry by Sheikha A. & "Our Solemn Hour" Artwork by Jorge Remmy


I dream of a day
when in line, you
walk from the need,
leaving me be to
learn about the lone,
you’ll be away far
in a place your own;
then time will know
to find a way to wean,
to lean, push and pull.
I dream of that time
when I ask control
and I learn to stop -
existing in your world.
I shall see of that day
when I don’t reach,
breach, speak or tell;
you’d fight to cry
and you can’t feel,
sense, touch or heal,
suffering the light
when thoughts stay
still, without a clue,
null, numb or nude.
I shall live in that day.
The air will be free,
no guilt tying on you
and I’d have stopped
warring in your world.

About the Author:

Sheikha A. is a Pakistani-born writer who has lived half her impressionable years in the United Arab Emirates. Writing out of her own experience as well as that of others, she believes in empathy and its dominant influence on writing as a whole. Published in several online and print magazines, she intends to see her poetry put into books and be read and discussed widely. Her book titled ‘SPACED’ is available on Kindle (published by Hammer and Anvil Books, Lazarus Media LLC).  Amazon Link to Spaced by Sheikha A.


Artwork "Our Solemn Hour" by Jorge Remmy on Deviantart at Jorge Remmy.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

"Poems I didn't want to write, and some other dreams..." by Ibrahim Honjo


You are a Magnolia from rainy clouds
With half of the head in pink
And half in yellow
You are a fishhook for open eyes
Your legs are in torn shoes
And hands on your back
I said – I saw you somewhere
You turned into despair
I offered you my heart on a platter
And my soul at the knees
I offered you my rough hands
Cheese and ham sandwich
Blueberry tea
And a red apple
You refused
Your green frozen eyes
Were killing this day with greenery
It was horrible
Could we be friends -
I asked
You turned your head and went away
And went away
And went away

Painting by Ibrahim Honjo


You are the queen in a non-existent land
with no subjects and offspring
you are a thorn in youthful eyes
and iron on youthful lips

you are a stone on their soft hearts
and a block of ice in their bare souls
you are someone people can get by without
and someone they cannot get by without

you're a prostitute in all lives
and rain from wild clouds
and an overflowing river
and joy and a cry and echo
you undress to bare skin in bare times
on the podium of curiosity of wild boys

you were born naked in an even more naked country
more naked you rule boiling hearts
you dissipate nudity throughout the universe
not knowing anything about your nonexistent kingdom

you are the queen of all queens
who shamefully float above amorous looks
of beardless boys who live with one single thought
masturbating secretly and sighing in a non-existent country
for the non-existent queen
dreaming of her in her voluptuous nudity

you are the queen of love superior to all queens
you are all that a male imagination can conceive
you are a stumbling block for wanton young men
you are their suffering and their inexhaustible pain
you are someone people cannot and can get by without

now when you know how young men scatter their virginity
and destroy unborn generations
submit yourself to them in blue dusk at the end of a cul-de-sac
and salvage everything you can
taking care not to lose any of your beautiful nudity

(Ibrahim Honjo, from book “Poems I didn’t want to write, some other dreams”


Somebody spoke to me grudgingly
time is getting closer and closer
He spoke and disappeared
and with him was gone
all that was in the vicinity
and what was at a distance
in connection with time

thoughts were scattered
to all sides
to assemble the remaining days
to multiply
sunsets and sunrises
and all that remained

and all this happens in a spasm
in a frenzied race
without laughter and pain
time is getting closer and closer
and we should thoroughly
quickly and thoughtfully
once again on this wretched day
add all of it, subtract
multiply and divide,
so that everyone gets their own share
and leave enough for another time
to fulfill everybody’s last wish
even to those who have no wishes
all this in an instant
because time is getting closer and closer

and when that Promenade passes
when wishes no longer exist
there will just be enough time
to have a fair trial for the first time
and to carry out just punishments
so open your eyes and look at yourselves
in mirrors that do not look like mirrors
open your ears and listen to yourselves
carefully weigh everything around you and within you
hear everything around you and within you
because time is getting closer and closer.

(Ibrahim Honjo, from book “Poems I didn’t want to write, some other dreams”

Ibrahim Honjo was born on April 16, 1948 in the former Yugoslavia (Bosnia and Herzegovina). Since January 1995 he has lived in Canada.
Honjo is a poet-writer, sculptor, painter, photographer who writing in his native language and in English. He was introduced in many magazines, newspapers, and radio stations in Yugoslavia where he worked as an economist and journalist, also books and newspapers editor, and marketing director. His poetry was published in several Canadian magazines and radio stations. He organized many poetry events and festivals. Honjo received several prizes for his poetry. He is author 13 published books and represented in 10 anthologies in former Yugoslavia, Canada and USA. His poetry was translated in: Korean, Slovenian and German language.


“Taste of Bitter Herbs” 1971

“Stone to Stone” 1976

“All my Green Town Squares” 1990

“Roots in the Stone” 1990

“Stone Talk” 1991

“Do not write this down” 1991

“Sketches for Unborn” 1993. (Slovenia)


(in English and Serbo-Croatian language)

“Do not write this down” 2006

“Roots in the Stone” 2008

“Enigma from the Stone” 2009

“Poems I didn’t want to write, some other dreams” 2011


“Enigma from the Stone” 2010

“Threads of my Essence” (Autobiography) 2011