He Wants To Go To London, Too
He follows me
and always
stays around me.
He wants to go to London,
yet he has no passport
nor can I put him in my suitcases.
He wants to go to London, too.
He is from Serbia.
His name is Johnny.
Johnny is my doggy.
Vida Nenadic
poem by Vida Nenadic
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Silent Walk
My life is
my own journey.
The journey, in which
I am waiting for myself
To finally arrive
from all far away distances.
Still, I am happy to hear
my own silent walk
Even more than to look at
the roads on which I traveled.
poem by Vida Nenadic
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Weight of Words
The autumn like this
I am facing for the very first time.
I am writing to you
although I have no address.
My words are like a hunger,
never the same, never with the same weight.
While this autumn
travels with the rain through my heart
I am sending you regard
with the wind, blown off my lips.
poem by Vida Nenadic
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For Years Now
For years now
I have been dreaming about returning home.
For good.
For years now
I have been packing my bags.
in my thoughts.
For years now
I have been going home when I become nostalgic
and to rest from everything.
For years now I have been at home
and I go to London
when I want to bring more life to my life.
poem by Vida Nenadic
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I Am Not Going To Tell You The Name Of The City
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which my steps are still searching for me.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
whose bridges are longer than life.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
under whom even the sky was like a tent.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I learned to start up a new journey as soon as I arrive.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which is never to grow old.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I met the eyes with the color of the sky.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I was knocking on my own doors from inside.
[...] Read more
poem by Vida Nenadic
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