Dancing with the cranes
Exciting, jumping, bowing, stretching
In jerky sequence, exaltation, exhilaration
Wild in a wet meadow, mutual rejoicing
Reflecting a sense of limited aggression.
Engendering hope for a free and open future,
With their elegant posturing and dramatic leaps
Enthusiastic and sometime even immature
High into the air with outstretched wings.
Coordinating bows, leaps and short flight
Liking to dance in pairs for a courtship ritual.
Turning their head and balancing the weight
Being paired for life, never trying to be perpetual
Bowing and bobbing, jumping for joy and fidelity
Throw their trumpet, grass, stone and feather
Performing ballet leaps with a graceful fragility
Better yet, they dance when they need to be together
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The last day
The last day you see the sun is not an illusion,
It's really your last day.
Most people do not even know about their last day,
But you know it.
This day you will die.
Most people do not know about their death,
But you know it.
So many people walk around with a meaningless life
And many people use religion as a mean of quieting their fear of death.
The Lord had mercy on you,
The Lord has told you what is good.
Once you had no identity,
Now you are God's child.
God has mercy on whomever he chooses.
He chose you this way.
Many people are sinners
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Two suns
Earth has long had its faithful sun emitting rays
But what if we were to look out in the clear sky
And see two suns instead of one on a bright day?
What if this new sun will glamorize the human eye?
What if this sun will make night a thing of the past
'Cause the Betelgeuse star system will change very soon?
This star has lost its fuel and it can't outlast
Exploding in a conflagration like a balloon.
The light from Betelgeuse will reach the underworld
There will simply be no night for a long period.
God will be alone for creating His new world.
Like in ' Theogony' written by great Hesiod.
In the middle ages people really thought
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Our Last Dance
(Dedicated to Thorsten)
I see you crying,
Looking through your transparent face mask
And reconceptualizing your mimicry as a spatial captation.
The red liquid still trickles down,
The solid foam packing our feelings.
The cup spills out the wine
Into a heart shape.
I want to turn back the time
And go back again.
We need our infinite,
And want, once again, to dissolve in it.
Around, at the other tables,
People are just seemingly not thinking
As they are reflected in the broken mirrors,
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Advice (‘’Radu’’- in Czech language)
'Sell me this day
Thy birthright.'
(Genesis 25: 31)
'And thou shalt take
Two onyx stones
And grave on them
The names
Of the children of Israel.'
(Exodus 28: 10)
Because
'A good name is better
Than precious ointment'
(Ecclesiastes 7: 1)
And the ' glory
Shall fly away like a bird'
(Hosea 9: 11)
''Then shalt thou
Understand righteousness,
And judgment, and equity;
Yea, every good path
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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New Zealand
An earthquake struck New Zealand's city of Christchurch on Tuesday
Burying vehicles under debris and collapsing buildings into the streets.
Police announced a curfew and city was shut down on Wednesday,
Rescuers scrambled to reach beneath the rubble the residents.
The quake devastating the spire of the Cathedraland is a real tale.
The buildings had collapsed and the people were trapped inside.
All around the city, this powerful earthquake strangely bent some rails, Moreover, it toppled the tall buildings and seventy five people died.
The earthquake combination of distance and depth was so deadly,
Streets were strewn with concrete and people were stuck in towers.
Firefighters climbed ladders to pluck people from roofs to safety.
Buildings have gone because aftershocks hit the city within two hours.
Pre-World War buildings were damaged by the quake on September,
People wandered through streets strewn with debris and concrete.
The further damage was caused by a strong aftershock in December.
Now there is a real carnage with bodies littering the streets..
The women went into premature labor and the city was in agony.
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Snow-White (Part 6)
He took her in his arms wanting to kiss her for the last time and to kill himself,
Someone told him to hit her in the back with his hand, it was a voice of an elf.
That piece of apple came out of her throat and Snow-White came back to life.
The prince held her again in his arms and couldn't stop kissing his future wife.
The wedding was set for the next day, and her mother was invited as well.
She told the king ''This evening we go to the wedding and I feel like hell! ''
‘'Mirror, on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all? '' Queen wanted to know.
‘'You, my queen, are fair; it is true, '' replied the bad mirror through its glow.
It closed its eyes saying, ''The young queen is a thousand times fairer than you! ''
She was so o'ertaken that she couldn't speak, she saw at least that her eyes are blue.
So jealous she was thinking of the young queen that she dressed herself in black,
But no one noticed any difference and she saw in her mirror the deadly crack.
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The white tiger
In the wildness the white tiger is so rarely found
Having a very white colored fur with black deep stripes
It’s a solitary genre wanting no one around
With its retractable claw the white tiger the prey gripes.
It is born from Bengal tiger having round deep blue eyes
Because the Bengal tiger has genes for white coloring
It may be complete white, but may not be different in size
At night it hunts some pigs, cattles and deers for eating.
These double recessive allele in their genetic code
Are the cause for turning up once in every thousand births.
The Bengal tiger becomes white in this natural mode
A great potential for excellence is found in its strengths.
In small areas with concentrated prey it survives
White tigers in the wild live about ten or fifteen years
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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The Japanese tear
Her curved lip struck, shining in late light.
While she was coming to nothing.
The big wave was clothed only in its sound
And the earth's withered bark
Was pushing very strong the life’s water,
While hoarding the days
And keeping the water's life.
Late lily curved over its stricken lips
Taking out at the last sliver of light
The bulk of time
And the whole white in waiting.
It pierced my wood's woven shade,
Lullabied by the late lily,
Planted in the brood of the wave's mystery,
That brood of the late low light
Flaming invisible tongue of flames
With water.
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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Protests across Yemen
Protests spread across Yemen on Wednesday
Demanding an end to the president
Policemen fired in the air then forced their way
To disperse the crowd of the people present.
A foreign plot led the Arab world in chaos,
One thousand people marched on the Sanaa street
Some consecutive days protesting with pathos
Ali Abdullah Saleh trying to defeat.
President Ali Abdullah Saleh
Against al Qaeda had been allied with US
But he has began to smoke his nargileh
When he heard 'down with the president's thugs.'
Lawyers, students, and activists together
Marched chanting slogans against President
From Sanaa University toward the city center
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poem by Marieta Maglas
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