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Poetry

Jelena Vukićević, Poetry

return

mother
you don’t know anything about this day that still is
about why I didn’t sleep last night
how many coffees did I drink this morning
am I in Krakow, Ostrava or Auschwitz
you don’t know about this song I can show to the world
you don’t know if my back is hunched or did I cut my hair
there is no empty space on the map
nobody know where she lived
in tiny room
with books and collages
and telephone in the corner
numbers 8,4 or 2
woman in front of me cries
I will not go near the phone
mom
you don’t know
I bring you photographs you will not see
faces I have seen in the graveyard
hey? Did you lost your way?
for her, small winged words
endlessly repeating
mom
you don’t know how he leaves with painkiller
in his hand
leaves a coin from the land I saw from train window
you don’t know how his blue deer-like eyes
reflect my whispers
you don’t know you are the only one I want to go back to
enough wanderings
forest beds
train stations
strangers
hurts
it hurts


disolved pains

woken up one day
seeing clearly
no dirt in eyes
cleared from ages of silence
mumbles
self centred crap
washed
combed
powered
she wants the world
to turn into word
touch into bread
water into flight
poem into life
afraid to miss the life


don’t go

I remember what we talked about
wrote about
I calm my breath
close my eyes
touch my wounds
where did this come from?
why do I find you excuses?
over the chair a dress
I supposed to wear for you
and a book
for summer days
I hear roosters
I smile
another dawn without you
I out knees to chest and whisper
shepherd’s needle
spruce
white ivy
golden mint
bear’s paw
pansy
snake’s grapes
absinthe
beets
fern
you look at me amazed
we ride rivers
night
it’s important to understand it
I am yours
we are on the same road
words didn’t follow us
is the eternity lonely?
is it beautiful?
that day you got up and got trapped in the mirror
afraid of the depth
it was our first date
I will survive this
but then what


oniric house

the fact that you called me
doesn’t mean a thing
there are dozens of those
we are called by many
into yellow rooms
summer tents
wild grass
how to patient then
all these others you put between us
when will I let my hair down
why does it bother people?
why there sick posters hang everywhere?
there is a man
asks for sleeping pills
others laugh at him
happy they just wait for examination
we are all equally dead
woman on crotches sings to baby
another poster- find a cure and a piece of land
they will soon tell us they care
wizards in white coats
you speak your language
now is the time
to make my way
to listen
you say thank you
you really needed it
now
when you Mom is on trips
and Dad on other women
nobody can tell you how to be better
I gave her a banana
she says she eats her feelings
she probably heard it somewhere
she is twelve year old, for Gods sake
she was rowing
all she travels start with waves
what do they teach us in school
I have the prettiest backpack
backpack to recognize you
we build touches with words
once
they left me in white room
with orange calculator
and cockroaches on walls
I never loved math
injections
veins never heal
puncturing into oblivion
five days of dreaming

fear I will always be alone


foto: Mia Mujovic

Jelena Vukićević, Graduated from the Faculty of Philology in Belgrade, Department of General Literature and Literature Theory. She is currently finishing her postgraduate studies (master’s degree in culturology)in culturology at the Faculty of Political Sciences in Belgrade and is compiling her first poem collection. She is employed at the “Bookastore” bookstore in Belgrade. She is in love with poetry, mountains, the sea, movies, the theatre, photography, calligraphy, birds of prey, caves and pits, running, The Jelasnica Canyon, and Siberia. She organizes, along with her friends from SK “Tribe”, fans of recreational climbing and mountain trekking, one of the most exciting races in the region, the famous “Labyrinth”.

 


Translator, Dragana Rudić: Born in 1986. She finished her master’s degree at the Faculty of Philology in Belgrade at the Department of Comparative Literature. She lives and works in Shanghai where she is involved in the literary circles. She translates poetry, writes and publishes short stories and visual art.

 

 

 

 

 


This article was published in March of 2019, within the Awakening topic.

Read the other texts published in the Poetry section.

This article was originally published in Serbian and you can read it here. Translated into English by Dragana Rudić.

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