1976s Laughing Little Girl Swinging High on Outdoor Swing by Leila Samarrai

I opened the door to my intimacy ajar,
In the end, a tatter thrown to the road is left.
A fable interesting to none,
the secret in the service of the one who scares and enchants. 

Lo for Algol smacked me at the birth
The path of the past burst forth
The path of rebirth is frightening
  The infant must burst forth
Expanding, expanding, expanding
 I art in a red heat glow
Coloured in oddity
 Coloured in oddity
Coloured in oddity
I survived poison.
I was four… 

I was raised a wild one among the lunatics,
a tabula rasa with madness scribbled on it.
Howls of animus heard when the seminal
river breaks beneath the gibbous moon
below the navel where milky pearls
drip into deluges of steamy rivulets
below the eyebrow where the fears
woundingly drip into the eyes of undulant sadness
Très tremendous!
Numerous books in a single passage,
a secret whispering behind the scenes,
even Perun himself spoke to me,
 or an Arab Djinn of sorts, I
 got the Serbian and Arabian war gods mixed up
I do not agree with either Dem Serbses
 nor them Allahu Akbars
The kids are kicking a can
The kids are kicking me like I am a can
I ran the street in great fear,
but kept seeing them everywhere.
 Blind eye. Clap of hands. ‘Kick the arabian bastard.’
I grew into those wrinkled kids. At times I kick cans.
  The numbers mean fate.
I became so old and superstitious.
   I’m forty two years old. 
I will devour your summer’s ashes. 

My shriek hummed together
with the wind towards the timeless ocean of temporality
on the shores of cursed waters
where dead faces grinned, like this one here, and she kept cursing me.
 – May evil see you,
black tooth bite you…..
May you be buried alive.
She was drunk.
..with a whip…a poker.. on my back…and…
Please, grandma, don’t!
BUT she arose in the beer bottle
In her – are worlds – of rakia
She is a painter.
She arts in heaven.
By forgiving her..  I am a miracle!

The forgiveness itself was posed as a violent
Vision, light, unbound, round, spherical
And searing –!
Indeed, it’s all bones, skulls, rib – vaults
Places, places, next to possible perhaps…
-beneath of multiform pits of corridors
Please, uncle, don’t!
He is a painter.
pantera legged, mustached,
Yelled out at me from behind
Filled with the substance of nasty virtue
“You will all be up shit’s creek,
a bathroom attendant!”
Far less then geniuses
Who lead the fools
With fornication, cunningness and booze
To hidden thoughts.
He still waits
For all my anathemas.
and fumes his pungent breath into your soul!
Motherfucker is still alive.
… while my lip flesh quivered,
and teeth dropped, I…I…
An all the children around me all with ageing faces,
 teeth corrupt to their roots and bloody,
 and each of then growled at me,
 for they were not kids,
 but Algol’s demons summoned at me for a cause.

Your knife cut through all the conditions of disorder.
It’s entirely safe in my hands. 

I sat in
The centre of
Too holy to pray 
For a decade
It was the go-go Serbia ‘90s.
A tremendous sacrifice
My shadow takes you off the wall,
a wingless bird in the darkness of the room,
will skin the marble face and his smile of a victor!
Spartacus is beautiful
Beautiful enough for me…
Stab them all!
Stab them with a spear!
Remember the dungeons and betrayals!
Remembrance is death for repentance!
Stab them, Sura and live free! 

I sit here quiet.
Nobody visits me, I visit nobody.
I know nobody.
I guess I killed them all.
When I eat I do not take the food at the table.
Books of wisdom make me feel nauseous.

Even hope at times answers to the mute.
The dug away umbra from the extinguished lantern.
I do not weep for the lack of life.
I made peace with being knotted in,
removed from the arrogance of worms,
into my own hole, dark kitchenette and all… 
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

About the Poet:

Leila Samarrai was born on October 19th, 1976 in Kragujevac, Serbia. She writes poetry, short stories, and plays, her work largely containing the motives of fantasy and humor. Her debut collection of poetry “The Darkness Will Understand” won the First prize of the competition organized by the Student cultural center of Kragujevac in 2002. She has had her work published in numerous local magazines, both in print and electronic form. Some of her notable works include the collection of short stories “The Adventures of Boris K.” by Everest Media and (as co-author and critic) “Poetry Against Terror: A Tribute to the Victims of Terrorism Kindle Edition.” Her works have been published in Serbian, Hungarian and English. She has won numerous awards for her written works, including the third place as a representative of Serbia for the aphorism “Stars and Us” of the “Beleg” competition and three separate awards in the “3-5-7 – A Story in a Moment” story competition, as part of the “Helly Cherry” competition, both in 2011. She currently lives in Belgrade with her two cats. 

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