Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
To find the hidden place
Longing freely to explore
Break obstacles and recognize
Invisible sparks emanating
From the deserved discovery
Of nothing between us
Shining longing only
Wakening stars in the Garden
Witnessing the birth of new landscapes,
Future cities and temples
Hearing new stories, falling
From the fountains of the secret art
All old sounds and colors reviving
And you, blindingly bright,
Into new senses are melting me
And into the core I grow
With invisible roots piercing
Touching the core of fire
Traveling far to the place, before
Space and time, and coming back
To this Garden to find you
To see the real you swimming
And flying ahead of the light
To find you where the light never was
And to learn that you are its source
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
The most complicated skill
Is to be simple.
To say more while saying less
Is the secret of being simple.
To not say all that can be said
Is the secret of discipline and economy.
To leave out beautiful sunsets
Is the secret of good taste.
To hide feelings when you are near crying
Is the secret of dignity.
To cut and tighten sentences
Is the secret of mastery.
To keep the air fresh among words
Is the secret of verbal cleanliness.
To write good poems
Is the secret of brevity.
To go against the grain
Is the secret of bravery.
To risk life to save a smile on a face of a woman or a child
Is the secret of chivalry.
To go where no one else has ever gone before
Is the secret of heroism.
To expect to be kissed having bad breath
Is the secret of a fool.
Words rich in meaning
Can be cheap in sound effects.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
It is not possible to say more than it is possible.
Ambition kills value; if unjustified it will
Eat its own life,
Kill someone else's desire to fly,
Cut their wings, suck their air.
Get out, but don't cause unneeded accidents;
There is only as much space, only as much time,
Only as much desire, only as many words,
Only as many pages, only as much ink
To accept all of us at light-speed
Hurrying into the Promised Land
Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.
No reason for a feverish rush
For we will all arrive in the same place
At the right time.
Justice will be served.
There will be no better or worse,
No big and small, no rewards, no punishment,
No guilt, no judges, no hierarchies;
Only silent equality.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
There is a moonlight note
In the Moonlight Sonata;
There is a thunder note
In an angry sky.
Sound unbound by nature
Becomes bounded by art.
There is no competition of sounds
Between a nightingale and a violin.
Nature rewards and punishes
By offering unpredictable ways;
Art is apotheosis;
Often, the complaint of beauty.
Nature is an outcry,
Unpolished truth;
The art—a euphemism—
Tamed wilderness.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
I see a new star on the horizon;
It's not the Morning Star;
It's a star without light.
This star without the light is the brightest
Because its light stays within.
The biggest star doesn't take any space;
It lives within,
Feeds all other stars, all other matter.
Without space, there is no time,
Without time, there is no aging,
Without aging, there is no death.
A star without light never dies;
It cannot be seen in the outer space;
It can only be sensed in the mind.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
I love the new sounds of love;
Only the new cures an old love.
Watching the love making of waves and the shore
I desire to be the wave of love.
There is no real hate in quarrels,
Only stupidity and lack of love.
The Sun shone upon me
And I shone upon the world with love.
I fly through memory
To find a newborn love.
Sing to me sea, sing to me sky
And the hiding world sprang out from love.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
If an ancient man saw planes two thousand years ago
He would've thought they were birds
Or angels from another world
Or messengers from other planets.
Every new machine would have surprised him—
The car, TV, radio, phone, camera.
He would've thought he was a savage
Who didn't understand.
If he saw a computer,
Watching people talking on the internet,
He would have thought it was a civilization
Much more advanced and ahead of his.
And if he stayed longer among the messengers
He would have learned that every child had the knowledge
And understanding of these things
Or how to use all of them.
Yet, after a while, he would have noticed
That none of them were advanced enough
To be labeled as those who know more
Than the one who said: I know nothing.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
Lie on the ground and listen to the grass,
Hear the silent signals from outer space,
Dream by making and make by dreaming,
Feel what the trees bathed in sunlight feel,
Gaze far to see the sea-gull emerging from the sea,
Imagine that today is the birth of the world and greet it,
Greet the old bird.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
Entering a cell, penetrating deep
As a flying saucer
To find a new galaxy
Would be an honorable task
For a new scientist interested
More in the inner state of the soul
Than in outer space.
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Written by
Dejan Stojanovic |
Trying too hard to be too good,
Even when trying to be bad,
Is too good for the bad
Too bad for the good.
Perfection seems sterile;
It is final, no mystery in it;
It's a product of an assembly line.
To accomplish the perfect perfection,
A little imperfection helps.
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