She’s so Divine

She's so Divine

She’s so Divine

She’s so Divine

She’s so divine
Every time I come
She’s there waiting
for me
The passion ascends inside
Nonstop elevation
Endless bliss
She’s so divine
An intangible thing
I keep thinking she’s mine
But she’s not
She doesn’t belong to anyone
But she’s got this magic
To her presence,
this feel that is unreal
Telling me that I’m what she wants
And what she needs
But she’s an illusion
So real it’s intense
A fortune that appears never to fade
A reality so inconceivable
It makes my heart sick in love
What does the truth matter?
She’s so divine
Consequences have no importance
A storm couldn’t stop me
From gazing upon her Bella-sity
All that comes my way
Could never satisfy and
will never please
She’s a silver lining
one that I’ll never attain
Knowing a gem of that
Pulchritudinous splendor walks
the earth,
Sharing the planet and
Breathing the air I breathe,
Though she emits floral scents
from her lukewarm lungs,
Is enough to give meaning
to my otherwise bleak existence
She’s so divine
And the only regret I’ll ever have
is that she isn’t mine

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 16, 2014

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No Flight

I feel like quite the visionary:
Creating art from nothing like a fairy,
And doing it all against the contrary.
Blowing smoke out into the air,
Breathing in the dust without a care,
Doing what I must, living a dare.
Rounding up the renegades
Of the anonymous promenades,
Stomping on the masquerades.
Rallying the squares
To raving electric chairs
Fluttering them into flares.
My love leads on to cheer:
‘Carry on my sweet dear
In this life free from fear.
Reverse the tide of decay
And deliver us from disarray
To the unity of a better day.’
My love she stands tall and free,
Admonishing the present’s plea
Of a future void of any liberty.
I hang to her as that of a rope;
Smoke her like a drug I’ve long eloped -
Clinging to her with every ounce of hope.
The fusion of grey and purple distill;
The air reeking of temerarious thrill,
Thumped and pouncing the kill.
Her grace emblazoned upon my face.
I’m ready to set out and deface
The enemies of love and defenders of hate.
Her love’s power sealed has sealed my fate.
To that I rush.
To that I crush.
To that I lead
Those in need
and eager to fight
For all that’s right.
This is a path
In which there is no flight.

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 16, 2014

The Man Who Knows

The Man

The Man

The Man Who Knows

I have no where to go
But here.
I have no one to see
But me.
I have no one to love
But myself.
I have no one to believe in
Save me.
And I have nothing to do
But wait.
Wait to live,
Wait to die.
Go on, day by day
Anticipating the inevitability
of my demise.
There is not a thing
that could save me;
Nor is there a someone
that may save me.
My path is one of loathing
And solitude.
I walk it alone,
As I always have.
Many have come -
But all have gone.
All I have left
is the strength to carry on.
I’m penniless,
But not empty-less.
The wealth I posses,
if any at all,
Is not of tangible acquisition.
It is cognizance
of the self
And of existence.
With knowledge thereof
I do not wither:
I endure.

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 31, 2014

Immortally Beloved

image

Immortally Beloved

Time has been my enemy
Ever since my soul had been breathed into my conception.
All my misgivings have been
But a series of misguided frittering,
And to my foreboding misfortune,
As empty as a the uninhabited space of a drum.
There is nothing of this scant existence that shall ever
Bring to me the slightest delight of pleasure,
Save the eternally-wondrous musings of those melodious
Strings, once plucked in simultaneous motion,
Ascends my immortal soul into the heavens,
Full of fervor and enchantment,
It rages like a crescendo of madness
That shall never cease to end:
Until the fingers falter and yield their swaying
To the ever-encompassing vacuum of nothingness.
That is the life of man.
Thereby, in turn, veritably evoking the sooth of the king of ages’ past:
when the music’s over,
turn out the lights.
Then shall all light be blown out
and into darkness we will plunge.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 26, 2014

Palestine Will Be Free – A Poem for Palestine and Rachel Corrie

David and Goliath. Free Palestine.

David and Goliath. Free Palestine.

Today’s post is in memory of Rachel Corrie (April 10, 1979 – March 16, 2003), the 23 year old peace activist who was killed eleven years to the day after being run-over by an Israeli bulldozer in the Gaza Strip after refusing to move out of the way, and the struggle of the Palestinians. The bulldozer, which was operated by an Israeli soldier, had been clearing the homes of evicted Palestinians in the southern Gaza Strip town of Rafah when International Solidarity Movement activist Rachel Corrie had arrived to protest the unjust demolition of Palestinian homes. Her bravery had cost her life. A life she was willing to give up in the defense of justice and defiance of oppression.

Rachel, you will always be remembered for your courage and forever missed by those who’ve loved you, as well as those you have bled with. God bless you and all the others who stand up against injustice and Israel’s apartheid-ridden state. Rachel, you have not bled in vain. Your death had revealed to the world that Israel’s transgression knows no bounds and that it is time for the world to rise up in solidarity to end the day-to-day oppression, misplacement, and killing of Palestinians at the hand of the US-backed Israeli government.

Rachel Corrie

Rachel Corrie

I would like to add, and make clear, that my abhorrence towards the policies of the Jewish state of Israel in no way shape or form makes me antisemitic. We should not allow ourselves to blame an entire group of people for the wrongdoings of a corrupt few. I know and have many friends who are Jewish that do not support Israel and their oppression of the Palestinian people. Standing up for what’s right knows no color, ethnic background, or creed. At the end of the day we’re all human and share the same hopes, dreams, and desires. The right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is for all of man to enjoin upon and is not reserved for one select group of people.

Palestine Will Be Free

It’s been sixty-seven years
Too long.
White-washing the bloody tears
of a people
With a song
That is long overdue to be sung.
But instead,
they are forced to accept
The lies being fed
By those who act without precept.
How many mothers cry
As their babies die?
How many liars lie
Without a sigh?
They build walls fifty feet high
Trying to block the sunlight from the sky.
And though the sun has set,
It is only a matter of time
till it rises again.
And one day,
one day! Insha’Allah!
I’ll hear them say:
She’s free, she’s free.
Ya Allah, Palestine is free!
That day will come soon enough.
So, we need to unite in love
With our brothers in humanity
And bring an end to the insanity
That is the oppression of Israel;
A monstrous terror that is real.
Take the hands of those who fight
In the name of that which is right.
As for the angels who’ve been slain
In the battle against oppression.
You were not murdered in vain
By the bloodied hand of aggression.
In hearts you will forever be.
For you have helped those
who’ve been blind to see
That one day soon
Palestine will be free!

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 16, 2014

Forever Young at Heart

James Dean Forever Young

James Dean Forever Young

Forever Young at Heart

The beauty of youth
Is in a smile
That glows for a while.
Fresh smelling hair
And a gleaming flare
Of bright eyes
We pray never dies.
Flexible and swift,
Powerful to lift.
Smooth skin
And free from sin,
But lustful for contact
That’s void of contract.
Tall, thin, and firm;
Ready to experience
And eager to learn.
Such is the beauty of youth -
An all-encompassing truth.
Like that of a planted
seed,
We rise from our roots
out of need.
But the years have numbered
Our lives asunder.
And though we age and decay,
Our beauty shall never fade away.
For once the kindling fire starts
We’ll be forever young in our hearts.

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 13, 2014