Sami Gjoka


Dragon Slayer - Poem by Sami Gjoka

Noises are already gone.

Empty bottles,
Broken glasses,
Pillows thrown on the floor.
He slit dragon after dragon
Till he couldn’t fight no more.

Gone are all the noises now,
Chewed and swollen by the night,
By the night that keeps up roaring
Like an ocean with tides,
Through the silence that is cutting
His heart slowly slice by slice
Chewing, and swallowing him,
Bit by bit and bite by bite.

Against demons, against monsters
All his life in battleground
He fought till he couldn’t fight.
He gave up and he fell down
Lying, crying on the floor
Next to broken, empty glasses
To this early, burial site.

Across scorched, deserted lands, —like a dream half forgotten—
He was a torrent stream, running, hasty, to come through
Soon, dried up and disappeared, from the heat, like morning dew.

The fruit grown on the tree,
When shaken left the branches.

His horse stopped and shivered, shuddered,
Horrified by tilting rider,
That sways and falls to ground
Covered by the sharp arrows
That are falling like a shower.

Can you hear him calling now,
This warrior,
This survivor
Lying on the battleground
At the end of the war?
How can the soldier dare
When freedom fills the air
Lie do die?

And in his last grasp of air
He felt that you ought to know, if you doubt in his strength,
He put up tremendous fights before falling to his knees.
Even though he had his body chopped and bleeding everywhere,
Even though he had no armor to protect his open chest,
Even though his bow and arrows were broken into pieces
Broken hands and broken fingers, knees and legs numb from the riding
He refused to slow down even when he stopped walking
Lifting knees,
Pressing elbows
He kept moving,
He kept crawling
For as long as he could breathe
He kept going,
He kept fighting
Drunk by bottles,
Cut by glasses.

Listen, mother, to his call!
Wrinkled Mama, can you listen?
To your son that did not fall, like the grass by silver sickle
He stood like a trunk of oak that broke many, many axes
Until finally subdued. Subdued at the end of storm
Filled with tears and mud and blood, disgraceful behind the door
Like a bulb that burned out, he felt low, and bend down
And he bowed, kissing dust left from their departing shoes,
While crying to confess that they poisoned joy and youth
With poisons of abuse.
Then they left.

He had showered with roses paths where to court woman
From the lengthy trips that started at the first bewildered gaze
Till he led them at the gates of his heart, so soon betrayed
By those very same woman, led by demons of their greed.

If you hear him talking now, you will feel, he is in tears
And beyond his trembling voice, you will sense and you will feel
That the image of the woman, who internally made him bleed
After crawling over him, kiss by kiss and inch by inch
Like a culprit vine that hid under leaves, the deadly serpent,
Disappearing with joy in search of the next victim,
Now they will fill the night with laughters, so loud
Making fun at foolish him, just beyond the wooden door
Of the door that he decided to keep open a bit more.

As they took hold of his heart and squeezed, twisted it
Spilling out dropp by dropp his blood like a torrent stream,
Like a stream that comes from mountains with such ferocious speed,
Just a soon as they seduced him with charm, and with discreet
Soon they tied him with ropes of their ill-designed desires;
Like a truck, he lost control, rolling over with flat tires,
Have you ever seen the tower, —strength of iron, shines of glass
When crushing, crumbling down, turning into dirt and dust
He is crying with pain, aching up to every cell,
As if pulled from glorious heaven, by the hands of ghosts of hell.

Those woman running now in the dark and in the cold—
Masters of the magic power, to milk cows, to dig gold
Like a thorny stem that follows the full colors of the flower
Slither, soft and flattery, following kisses so sweet,
From the tows, to the knee, to the chest and to the cheek
Seeking men in misery, but with pockets so deep.
All they need is just a mist of pretending innocence
Rest their head against their chest, start weeping at their pains
And then feel their victim’s tongue leaking, feeding at their tears
Take their thongs and fling them high up to the rotating fan
Make the guy to laugh, to cry, and put him so fast to sleep
Then pinpointing at his heart, prick and sting and skillfully
Spell their venom, paralyzing any sense of his logic.

It’s a pity that each birth through the babies taking life
Comes like rivers that fill oceans, to keep death itself alive.

Have you seen the rising river that starts covering the dam
Under pure and clear water beneath peace of calm and still
It is brewing, it is longing, for its calm is just a sham
The water overflowing will tear apart the dam
Runs through meadows like a horse that is never tamed by man
With madness with hunger for its speed and for its strength
To destroy with mighty anger summer’s green at any length.

This is what those women look to find and find to fight,
Men that fall from running horses, —empty bottles in the tide
Men—like a leafless tree that’s cracking in the open, in the night.

Fired up and bright and shining along oceans that keep jumping
With power of waves over rocks, you see them coming
Like hyenas to finish the flesh left still in his bones,
They are coming to give hope to this seaman left alone
As they see that his wallet is not lost, and is not gone
They bend over with smile, greeting with their lending hand,
And for lips that are in fire, burned by hit and dried by thirst
They have just a perfect cure, healing with the touch of breast.

The stray dog, roaming alone with owners lost and gone
Has the need for food and mercy, searching for a new home;
All he needs is just pretending as if you are struck by love,
Come and hide your ill intentions, weep at his sorrow, griefs
And then feel his snailing tongue tracing, feeding at your tears.

Can you hear him calling now, can you hear his dying voice?
He still feels their scratching claws, stuck so deep beneath his skin
He has tried to slit their dragons,
Shouting curses, throwing punches,
At his life, who like a whore
Made him throw at her roses
Picked from big, fat bank accounts
Until not a single petal of red pennies had remained.
He has tried, and tried in vain, to slain dragons, to kill pain
Till he couldn’t fight no more.

Using him rib by rib—as a ladder to achieve
Shining glories of the richness—hub of all their fantasies,
Now that he has nothing,
Now they will have to leave.

Can you hear him calling now!
Can you feel his grinding pain?
He is cracking, breaking down,
At the jaws of his own despair.

All the stars that lit so briefly, his voyage to find another
Planet to anchor his love, smothered, hidden under the cover
Under clouds that got ready to pull strings of lightning bows
To burn hope, to kill desire, to insist resisting strong
With thunders that disguise under mist of tender love,
All those stars gone by now,
All of sudden, all are gone.

He is on the highest floor, of “The Park Rosslyn” building
He has often shown the door to those monsters that uproar
Inside his weeping soul. Oh, the demons that he fought
Must have been inside him, so deep, for so long
For the farther he pushed them with anger and repentance,
The more angry they got close.

If you ever were there, of course, you would see your son
Breaking loose, and run away, chased by gallops of the horse,
Have you seen the thrown rope by the heartless cowboys
Just when you might have thought that the calf is safe and free
How quick it pulls around, thrusting him to the ground?

Ah, the fish that tries in vain since it is stuck inside the net,
It is painful, it is hell to fall deep inside yourself.

Breaking loose, from cruelty, needs courage, needs bravery
Needs him stating to his mother
“I bled on the battlegrounds, chasing demons that forever
Have been leaving inside me...”

And there is a sliding noise—mother felt, must be the door
Leading to the balcony.

Can you hear him calling now?
Noises are already gone
Empty bottles, broken glasses, pillows thrown on the floor
He slit dragon after dragon
Till he couldn’t fight no more.

If he spoke a little longer, just one or two words
If he lived on other flats, down to the lower floors
She would tell him that some dragons are a piece of who we are
And that we should learn to sing to them songs of lullabies
Hiding them in farthest corners of our dirty, secret lives.

But instead, she only cries and she never will stop crying
Asking God of how long it took him to fall down
Jumping over fifteen floors to kill dragons that no more
Will threaten, will scream in the canyons of his soul,
To kill dragons that spread horror, sending shivers, sending chill
Across all the universe that is scary, that is grim,
Since the beginning of life till the end of all the times
Of this life that’s food for death, that is pain and that is hell
That is amber that is flame burning into every cell.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Poem Edited: Friday, March 25, 2011


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