Rukopis

Rukopis oštrih pokreta,
potezi jeftinog blefa;
ispijeni, uplakani sanjar
oslanja se na umeće desne ruke,
pero mu se otima,
tumara po zatvorenim grudima, glavi;
praznina ispunjena nepostojanjem,
prolaznost predvođena krikom…
Sve to smestiti na papir,
odupreti se strahu tragova,
predvideti narednu stranicu,
znati slušati, moći plakati,
hteti pisati, smeti voleti.
Imati pesmu.

Miloš Stevanović


Published: 07.03.2009.
Classified as: Poezija
Comments: 0
Author:

Discussion: Total 0 Response

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

  • Follow Tragovi

    • Facebook
    • RSS

    Do you write poetry?

    Send your poetry to tragovi.blog[at]gmail.com
    Successful entries will be published.