Category Archives: poetry

poetry, proza

Slavery in Serbia, from the perspective of a Serbian’ resident alien, Leila Trajkovic Samarrai

A kindness died away between the pillars of
a strange home, a distant domicile in someone else’s garden
there is plenty of foul language and malice here and there, and I’m tired
I am so… rectum-rapingly worn out under
the sky
the bird
the overshadowed fowl
this ruinous world, mine as of late
Shepherds!
you expatriated me into the living pasture
you expatriated me out the gates of Hell
to serve as a maidservant faithful to the earth laden with the mites of May

To those who expelled me to my pasturage
to those within cruelty’s sphinctery grip
in waterfalls that grow in the morning sunlight
in yesterday’s paradise
in the freshness of Day

 

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poetry, poezija

POUR EVE, Dedicated to Eva Gaëlle Green (Gren), Leila Samarrai

Dedicated to Eva Gaëlle Green (Gren)

We the odd ones
We the selfsame ones
We are both
An ugly, broken thing.

Loosen the grip, o shocked goddess
femme recherché
laisse-moitranquille
Tis all in the foam
In thine shell

Adam’s member
is a snake which
sheds its skin
a maggot in a pink apple

I water the rage
With soft, tricked tears
Don’t cast your pearls
Before the phalluses

I depart for the graveyard of forbidden delights

 0353320

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poetry, poezija, proza

Commentary on the poem Rabbi Isa, deliver me NOT from evil, by Leila Samarrai – Ljubodrag Stojanovic, Serbian writer and poet

https://leilasamarrai.wordpress.com/2016/06/12/rabbi-isa-deliver-me-not-from-evil-leila-samarrai-edited-version/

Regarding this poem, Indifference will be a feature of those who, in fact, have not read it. Others will praise or reviled it, the opportunists may growl a word or two turning the conversation to another topic. I think the poem is emotionally open, strong. Babylonian mix of languages is not an obstacle.

Jesus is presented beautifully, that primal Jesus, not through his alleged representatives on Earth, embodied in the make – money organization, as well as power and authority. Oedipal part, although in Father-Daughter relation is the most obvious
in King Richard part, where persistently repeat, like introduction to Ravel’s Bolero, echoes in head of the reader, insisting to be awakened by a Mother from nightmare in this shamelessly and father – less world.
There is a very strong part in conjunction with androgynous snake.
The snake is deeply connected with the Father’s part.
The absence of a King in her life has built a structure prone to resistance to the male part of the world. She identifies herself through the male power, so to speak, trapped in a woman’s body. Hence the emotional affinity
targeted at women.

The lack of a living father, coward without responsibility, on one hand, polarizes her personality since, on the other hand, there is a great dose of love for the aforementioned king, hence simultaneous hatred which initiates ambivalent emotions, hence the lyrics. Anger is directed towards the male gender, and rage against women is turned only to those primitive, deeply stupid and perverse women, ie, those that deserve it with that kind of personality

Jesus is the Father, a kind of father should be. Get up, girl! Jesus, as we know him from the New Testament. He encourages, forgives and does not judge. He prefers sinful children, prostitutes, revolutionaries, thieves, from bland people.

But she does not want protection from evil. She considers herself strong enough to stand up to evil, but rather only to refuse protection, she accepts evil as part of herself, what Njegoš would have said, to do evil, to defend yourself from evil, there is no atrocities in such things.

The choice of location is interesting, selected by Nightmare itself which is logical. If a dream-nightmare is ego and superego compromise, than the sequencing of the images is a universe in itself where there is no time and space.
Splendidly divided in thematic terms, your poem is a circle that folds and unfolds herself, she can exist independently, but as a whole she is rounded and as such she gets her real meaning.

 

Ljubodrag Stojanovic, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73i-fGeWBUo, Serbian writer and poet, he has published the drama Serbian Story (2002), a collection of aphorisms
I, crazy and confused (2009). He is represented in numerous printed and electronic anthologies of poetry and prose works.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011126642029

https://twitter.com/childebyron

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poetry, proza

Komentar na poemu “Ne izbavi me od zla”, Ljubodrag Stojanović, književnik

https://www.facebook.com/notes/leila-samarrai-green/ne-izbavi-me-od-zla/249775012045161

https://leilasamarrai.wordpress.com/2016/06/12/and-deliver-me-not-from-evil/

Prema ovakvoj poemi, ravnodušni će biti samo oni koji je nisu čitali. Ostali će je hvaliti ili kuditi, oportunisti će možda promumlati dve ili tri reči i okrenuti razgovor na drugu temu. Mislim da je poema emotivno otvorena, snažna, ne smeta vavilonsko mešanje jezika. Divan prikaz Isusa, onog iskonskog, ne putem njegovih navodnih reprenzenata na Zemlji i na zemlji, oličenih u organizacije za zgrtanje novca, vlasti i moći. Edipalni deo, doduše u odnosu Otac-Ćerka, najizrazitiji je u delu o Kralju Ričardu, gde uporno ponavljanje, poput uvoda u Ravelov Bolero, odzvanja u glavi čitaoca, insistira, traži od majke buđenje iz košmara u bezOčnom i bezOtačnom svetu.

Postoji izuzetno snažan deo sa androginom zmijom.

Zmija je duboko povezana sa delom o ocu.

Nepostojanje kralja u tvom životu je izgradilo strukturu sklonu otporu prema muškom delu sveta.  I prepoznavanje sebe kroz mušku snagu, uslovno rečeno, zarobljenu u žeskom telu.Otuda i emotivni adinitet usmeren ka ženama. Nedostatak živog oca, kukavice bez odgovornosti, sa jedne strane, polarizuje ličnost, jer, sa druge strane, postoji velika doza ljubavi prema pomenutom kralju, otuda istovremena mržnja što inicira ambivalentne emocije, samim tim i stihove. Bes je usmeren ka muškom rodu, dok je bes prema žnama okrenut samo prema onim primitivnim, dubinski glupim i izopačenim, odnosno, onima koje svojom ličnošću zasluže.

Isus je Otac, ali onaj kakav bi otac trebalo da bude. Ustani, devojko! Isus kakvog znamo iz Novog zaveta. On bodri, oprašta i ne osuđuje. On više voli grešnu decu, prostitutke, revolucionare, lopove, od mlakih ljudi.

Ali, ona ne želi zaštitu od zla. Ona smatra sebe dovoljno snažnom da se suprotstavi zlu, ali, ne samo to, ona prihvata zlo kao deo sebe, što bi rekao Njegoš, zlo činiti, od zla se braniti, tu zločinstva nema nikakvoga

Interesantan je i izbor lokacija. Noćna mora ih sama bira….Ako je san-košmar kompromis ega i superega, biće da je nizanje slika svemir za sebe i u sebi gde ne postoji ni prostor ni vreme.

 

Tematski sjajno podeljena, tvoja poema je krug koji se sklapa i rasklapa, može poszojati samostalno, ali kao celina deluje zaokruženo i dobija pravi smisao.

Ljubodrag Stojanović, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73i-fGeWBUo, književnik i pesnik, Objavio dramu Srpska Priča (2002), i zbirku aforizama I lud i zbunjen (2009). Zastupljen u brojnim štampanim i elektronskim antologijama sa poetskim i proznim radovima.

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011126642029

https://twitter.com/childebyron

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poetry, proza

Poem Of Babel, Leila Samarrai

NAHUA

It is a place of seven caves
Somebody calls me by my name.
It was the Hueyapan vicar:
“Diego”, – he told me – down there in aztatltlan(tli), the Nahua tribesmen
Cut people up
In pieces.
A sacrifice, Diego, it is a sacrifice.
Chicomostoc… (rhythmic drumming)
Rabbi Isa, Rabbi Isa… (rhythmic drumming intensifies)

RICHARD THE CANNIBAL KING

He took rothers and left the stede, that is the King!
The Cannibal King, For the King is the great power
that overpowers the great power that overpowers
the powers the great power
that overpowers the great power that overpowers the powers
Unis,Unis, Unis
Mother, mother, Mother who is Father, awaken me!
Fear not the nightmare, my child, but sing praises to her(demonic laughter)

SUDD MA’RIB

Selena is reading the spells from the Book of the Moon
Blood, my heart, my bill, me in a pool of blood
Ruinous, violently, I bounced my moist body
Towards the tambourine stars
u sudd Ma’rib, la ciudad perdida, *The lost city (esp)
my bane, in the pit, an engine-maker, a prophet, my salvation
mydeca, are – pr – pour.. pour, pour..
my blood
my bane
my heart
my salvation
Abwûnd’bwaschmâja *Our Father, Aramaic
Abwûnd’bwaschmâja
And to this the Rabbi told me:
Talita kumi. *Stand up, lass, Aramaic
l’ahlâmalmîn. *Amen.
L’ahlâmalmîn.

EGYPT

Yet another dream…

I was born
The Goddess of Air and Invisibility
I was born and died a virgin of the Ogdoad
me, Amunet, the female hidden one
the androgynous goddess, the serpent, the lesbian
goddess of graves and coffins
and the moonlight cast by Iah made my dream illumined
I am the nightly vision written of in Anacreontea
Take me to your bedding, if you want your woman to love you
Your hands quiver, but they know how to caress
Kiss that bit of the body where my eyes divert
Of the tombstone
In the dark land, in a bloodied area, in the riverbed
You will be reborn
In the Ogdoad, you will be reborn
In the sudd Ma’rib, you will sing thy love and thy life.

TALITA KUMI!

Fear mourned me
Horror clawed at the cheeks
The spasm of fear is as hard as a quince

(love is a bone breaker, the Dream is interrupted)

SERBIA

“I know what I’ll do. I’ll give you a drachma!”

While the landlady waves with the electricity bills in hand
She’s looking at me as if I were her lamb meant for the slaughter
but, I am a she-dreamer of beautiful lips
Jesus understands me, we speak the same tongue
Amunet understands, she would hold me in her generous embrace
The cities understand, the blindness understands, the blood of the innocents understands
While I cast the curse of the fiery tongue on the Daemonion
After I’ve sacrificed my own world to the world outside
She burned at the spot, bills in hand and all…
O, how we do not forgive our debtors.
And glory be to the hellish tower of slaves!
glory! Amen oh Babylon
I walk thy streets, bare and free
Rabbi Isa, deliver me not from Evil.

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poetry, proza

Ugovor/Уговор, Леила Самарај, Leila Samarrai

Stanodavcima, bankama, sektašima, kukavicama, seksualnim predatorima, lažnim vernicima, samozvanim književnicima, skorojevićima acca malograđanima, “racionalnima”, drkadžijama, glupacima, zlim invalidima, farmerima i drugim inim licima u busu 95tici, lažnjacima, seljačinama koji su došli iz pizde materine, doneli svoje kazane i uništili Beograd, i ako sam nekog ispustila, propisno se izvinjavam, mada sumnjam da pobrojani znaju da čitaju. Verovatno im samo ovo “pička vam materina” neće promaći…)
(stoga, prim. reč pesnikova: ma pička vam materina ukratko svima, )

 

УГОВОР

Осветољубива судбино, Исплети нову мрежу
јер мрежа којом их сад ловиш је премала
ТАД Гони их на Страшне обале
Уговор је потписан
a Задатак додељен
на руке Дохватнику!
Не штеди Грбавца док Врелина И Жеђ
злочинaца
Не испије моју освету
(Ум je помамљен ватром
(Гори, гори у дивљем пламену сурове моћи!)
Ни Терор неба са својом грубом руком да не учини
Да смртници задрхте, одвратно тихи у трци
обојеној у крв
као што ће моја гневна рука риљати по грлима њиховим
док не испусте безнадежни звук:
“Милост!”
“Зар под Терором Неба!?”
Когод се законом зверским сад усуди да
Молитву упути зажареном Богу на чијим грудима је
намучена Рана
стопало попрскано крвљу
и запаљено Срце.
Почујте:
Печат који на уговор утискујем
задатак је ДУБОКО мој.

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poetry

Vanity on the fox’s trail

Vanity on the fox’s trail
Behold, a miracle!
Supposedly one-sided at instants
Suitable for a scrambled moment
The martyr and her daughter who wash their feet
Tasseled with nails instead of sandals
Conversing silently.

Anything but sough
Shores and scrapings fantasizing
Daughter do you wish the powder to slip you
To disturb the onus, non-being and tendrils
Wistful across the stones you overcome
Blacker than night
You fear there will no longer be vertebrates

It is the third hour in the night After

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leila, poetry

Defeat

Through savannah and Karakum
one hundred thousand
deaths are riding
to the throne of Kazakhstan

Xerophytes from Kiev
welcomes Master of the Urals:

“We fell down without delievering
the best we could
the best we had
on cavalry
I cut out Kyiv
but,
saline glory looks pale, is fading”

When she heard this
river huddled
among the bowel from the Hetman

at dusk
all died down
all Cossacks
have fallen
assigned to the cruelty

Along the steppe
boomed and thundered
in a flood of
river Nadja

As I walk I am crying
as I walk I’m laughing

This water is born anew

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