Marieta Maglas Poems

When love is sweet, sweetness may mean the light.
This light may keep the truth when love is pure.
‘Tis quite so bitter, when it turns to fight.
Lovers in war are rather immature.
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Van Gogh wanted to mix a material rainbow of colors
From primary red, yellow and blue in the sense of the divine.
In the Holy Light, the love theme of the flower clock discolors.
The empty glasses on the tables lack the Holy wine.
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External power,
Internal powerlessness
Both at the same time.
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(A post-Haiku poetic form, consisting of three lines of 10,7, and 6 syllables. This form of poetry was invented in Israel.)


So vicious and illusive seems to be
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A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the
purple sky. The thrilling scream was like a shrill cry on
the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky,
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The autumn's dream may keep its dying grace
With flecks of bleeding leaves, all dressed in yellow.
The cold wind's scorch may wither the green space,
When the sweet fruits a bit more need to mellow.
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In the wildness, the white tiger is so rarely found.
Having a white colored fur with black deep stripes,
It is a solitary genre wanting no one around.
With its retractable claws, this tiger the prey gripes.
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Like the silence of the falling leaves
And unlike the blowing sounds in the wind chords
Is the death clock;
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The sun can rise again, the moon bitterly sleeps.
Nor friend nor foe tonight, the day merrily calls.
The trees, the grass, the lakes, their lip tenderly keeps
The moonlight kiss, when night in dreams carefully falls.
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