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  1. #1
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    Nje poem nga une

    So Far Yet Within Reach

    As I lay in silence and look at the stars
    that cover the dark shadowy sky
    I wonder and think of these curtains and bars
    that keep me chained, too weakened and bruised to fly.

    To fly, to fly far away in the bluest sky!

    And slowly as my eyes wander afar
    'tis a shadow I see that covers my stars
    No relfection nor brightness in the nearest mar
    Why, o why are you so far?
    So far away from my finger tips
    So far away from my dried up lips
    So far away from my senses, why? Why?!

    Why can't I fly to the top and see?
    Why can't I be what I was born to be?
    What is the curtain that is blinding me?
    What is the shadow that keeps me from being free?
    Where is the Sun that can let me be?
    Where is the light that will set my soul free?

    Then quietly I look away
    My motions so slow in my dismay
    No strength nor words left to say
    And although my stars seem so far away
    As I head for bed my thoughts continue to pray
    For one day I will find a way.

  2. #2
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    My Clouds

    Pssst. Hey, come here. Look up, no no not there, further up. Way above the tree. Oh how my heart yurns...Look, look up, there is where I want to be. Oh as a flikkering flame it burns...Look up, once more, you must see, please. Oh how it turns and turns, and then, all of a sudden it jumps! Higher and higher and higher...Please hurry and look.

    Now shhhh...walk with me quietly as you look at the gentle clouds. Look at how calmly they wander the sky and look at what wonderful shapes they form. Then, only for an instance, close your eyes and feel them as if they carress your face delicatly while you pass each one. But don't close your eyes for too long for you will miss some incredible display of magnificence...

    Ready? Over there! Look, look at the clouds over there by the sand. See how they whither like a snake in an empty desert! And look, look at the others by the water. Notice how they sparkle and bubble like champaign in a crystal blue glass. Oh and another! By the sun. Look at how it seems to flicker. Look at how splendid they all are.

    Sometimes if you stop, lay on the warm sand, and look very carefully up, it seems, for a moment, as if some are winking at you. You have to look very deep and you must calm your heart for having been excited by their magnificence you might be deceived of what they want to show. Other times, you simply feel as if you're gradually sinking in a sea of clouds. Drunken with the silent yet warm breeze. Oh how light and free you feel! And then, only for a second, it seems as if you will fall away from them, it is then when you quickly cling your sharpened claws into them, as an eagle clinging to its prey, you want to hold on to them, why would you let go? But it is then, after that second has passed, when you realize that you do not have claws...and slowly the clouds escape you as the night draws near. You remain still and calm and simply wonder...what will you do the next time when you have them within your grasp again? Hm?
    Ndryshuar pėr herė tė fundit nga Veshtrusja : 04-12-2003 mė 12:03

  3. #3
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    If I could be

    If I could be…
    I wouldn’t be you
    If that wasn’t me
    I wouldn’t be fake
    If everyone else is
    I wouldn’t be needy
    If I didn’t have
    I wouldn’t be cruel
    If you made me mad
    I wouldn’t lie
    If I made a mistake
    I wouldn’t not rhyme
    If, simply I was bad at it
    I wouldn’t steel
    If I couldn’t pay
    I wouldn’t cheat
    If I didn’t have my way
    I wouldn’t cry
    If I didn’t succeed
    I wouldn’t not try
    If it was so hard
    I wouldn’t flee
    If it came after me
    I wouldn’t….
    If I could be
    I wouldn’t run away…
    Now, don’t u see,
    that if I could be,
    I would just be me?

  4. #4
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    Le Penseur

    What are you doing?
    -only thinking
    What are you thinking?
    -only about life
    And what about life?
    -only its complexity
    What of its complexity?
    -only its simplicity
    I see.
    -I don’t.
    Then continue thinking.
    -about what?
    More than life itself.

  5. #5
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    Her Hands

    I was looking at her hands:
    So tired,
    So dry,
    So whithered
    Yet so strong.
    They were nothing like mine.
    Mine are soft
    Young
    Smooth
    flexible
    Some would love them
    I think there’s something they lack.
    If only I had her hands...
    Their beauty
    Their roughness
    Their strength!
    Perhaps in time…
    Perhaps they will change
    They will form
    They will build
    Become firm.
    But are my hands in my hands?
    Must I wait for something
    Or must I make them...
    Make them as I want them?
    Again I look at her hands
    My eyes full of admiration
    And also proudness
    Even though they are not my hands
    They are the hands that have made me
    Molded me
    Made me who I am
    Supported me
    Worked for me
    They are the hands that love me
    And they are the hands I love.

  6. #6
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    Patriotic Wind

    i awoke one day
    only to find myself wandering
    wandering through emptiness
    wandering in a desert
    waiting for some sign
    waiting to see something
    something alive
    something with a heart
    a soul
    anything
    i closed my eyes
    the dryness had tired them
    but i did not stop
    and when they open again
    they see something
    a figure from the sky
    moving slowly towards me
    like waves in water
    what was it?
    was it the Wind?
    yes! the Wind!
    picking up pieces of sand
    trying to build something
    trying to build herself?
    Maybe…
    but what can you build on emptyness?
    She came closer,
    closer to me
    whispering but i couldn't hear
    what was She saying?
    what couldn't i hear?
    slowly She would come closer
    but then, She would move further
    was something holding Her back?
    why is She so worried?
    why do Her eyes burn?
    why does Her soul ache?
    and, why, why can’t she speak?!
    something was pulling Her back
    something covering Her mouth
    something pushing Her away
    She didn’t want to go
    not without letting me know
    what should I have done?
    how could I help Her when
    when she had no voice?
    how could I relieve Her,
    relieve those painful eyes?
    How, when I didn’t know the cause?
    How, when She couldn’t touch me,
    even though she reached, how?
    Gradually She grew distant
    further away
    slowly dissolving into the air
    dropping the pieces of sand...
    Now she is far from me
    I only see her eyes
    Only her painful eyes
    And only one tear
    As it slowly drops
    from her cheak onto the sand
    leaving such a heavy mark
    such a small tear
    yet such a heavy mark.
    She's gone..
    but her mark remains
    I stare at the mark
    Drop on my knees
    and swear up Above
    that I will find her
    one day I will help her speak
    release her and set her free
    one day I will hear her voice
    one day
    She will pick up the sand once more.

  7. #7
    i/e regjistruar Maska e MtrX
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    29-11-2002
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    Urimet e mia per krijimet e tua poetike Veshtruesja,
    Me te vertete qe me pelqen te lexoj poezi te shkruara bukur dhe me frymezim. Padyshim besoj se nuk e ke pasur te lehte te shkruash kur behet fjale per krijime ne nje gjuhe e cila nuk eshte gjuha jote e lindur, apo e kam gabim ;-) , jo per gje po e kam provuar dhe vete nje gje te tille. doja te te pyesja per dicka, ke provuar ndonjehere te besh nje poezi ne shqip dhe pastaj ta perkthesh, dhe nqs po a te ka pelqyer rezultati i perkthimit. :)
    ok perseri te uroj sukses ne te ardhmen nqs e ke pasion te shkruarit, dhe ku i dihet pse jo, te lexojme ndonje liber nga ty ne te ardhmen.

    ps. kritike e vockel, mos u mundo gjithmone t'i permbahesh rimave te stergjatura, lere poezine tende te lire...
    MtrX ubicumque felix

  8. #8
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    Thx Mtrx :)

    Te tregohem e sinqert, nuk e konsideroj veten ndo nje shkrimetare kush e di se cfare por nga nje here thjesht me teket edhe shkruaj.

    Sa i perket gjuhes, nuk kam provuar te shkruaj duke perkthyer. Dmth e konsideroj anglishten nje soj si shqipen dhe shprehem lirisht ne te dyja.

    Liber nga une? wow, se di...Une besoj se kam nevoj per shume kritika (ndoshta te medhaja) ne vend qe te shkruaj ndo nje liber. :)

    Flm :)

  9. #9
    i/e larguar
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    08-12-2003
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    Canada
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    7
    me pelqen dicka tek poezite e tua, qe te pakten nuk permbajne nje fryme romantike, por anojne nga nje imazh tjeter, megjithate ky eshte mendimi im, e di mire se secile qe post ndonje krijim ketu pret reagime, por per mendimin tim me i frytshem do te ishte nje bisede mbi stilin dhe mendim per poezine per ata qe shkruajne, ndoshta do te hap nje teme keto dite, desha te beja nje pytje cila poezi e postuar nga ty, mendon se je shprehur me mire deri tani, se per mua te arrish te shprehesh plotesish ne fjale ate cfare ndjen eshte arti i poezise, te uroj fat.

  10. #10
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    Zarathus, komentet dhe kritikat mbi shkrimet jane te mirepritura :)

    Flm

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