bjanka ivas mamic Poems

I was born to early for the phlegm of the Earth
and the lances that I brought are to bluntly for this dirt.
However high the heart must be streaming
it s liquid is blood and will keep on bleeding.
...

Let us rest in rustle oblivion
for the winter willows on our chests,
pressing our numb lungs with fragrance of onion
as birds are leaving their nests.
...

As Joana plucks the asparagus
up on the hills near by
the gathers of her rufous
dress collecting Sun up high.
...

Break me dawn, for I've come betimes,
sulphurous, antically, olfactive, greener moss,
to dozing, roundabouts of his rhymes,
mizzling shrewishly, unintentional macron above loss.
...

Obduracy of thoughts in a maelstrom of ancient ash is hidden...within inpasse of that dark lake.
Vulnerable are we who preserved it,
thieved the fractions of eternity
so to flood them in abysm.
...