Sweet Hallowed Nights

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Lower Fifth Avenue at Night, 1920. Guy Wiggins.

Sweet Hallowed Nights

At sunset, the boulevard descends into a translucent silhouette.
Dim streets, the sinners roam in search of play.
The dark hour is a lonely one, and within it lies the pretense of despair and self-inflicted anguish;
Like the stamina of a black rose, the night is enveloped by a smooth calm that so delicately,
yet hauntingly, embellishes hope in the tourney of wills.
Desire is biting into a sweet, luscious apple;
Your appetite is tended, but only in the slightest of ways.
The twinkle of stars in the crepuscular plane of space hovers above:
like sugar, the saccharine sensation, though ephemeral, is euphoric;
And until dawn leaves you breathless.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 19, 2015

The Dance of Death

The Dance of Death

The Dance of Death

A little thing I wrote a couple of years ago.

The Dance of Death

They danced the dance of death

In the dark of night,

And with hearts void of light

Plunged themselves into the abyss

Of an ascertained doom without fret.

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
2011

THE APPLE by Yehuda Halevi

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Cleopatra by Jean Leon Gerome

The following is a poem by the medieval Jewish mystic Yehuda Halevi.

The Apple

You have enslaved me with your lovely body;
You have put me in a kind of prison.
Since the day we parted,
I have found nothing that is like your beauty.
So I comfort myself with a ripe apple —
Its fragrance reminds me of the myrrh of your breath,
Its shape of your breasts, its color
Of the color that used to rise to your cheeks.

 
Written by Yehuda Halevi (ca. 1075–1141)

Translated by Robert Mezey
Copyright © Robert Mezey, 1973.
Used with permission of the author.

 

Fantasia

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Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare

Fantasia
In dreams lie
the secrets
And mysteries
of a mind full
of hidden
Histories.

Thereupon dwells
the fantasy of
a hedonistic
ecstasy,
Void of anhedonic
fools,
Wherein vixens reign
under the artist’s
Rule.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 1, 2015

Remember Me

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Remember Me

Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory

Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended 
Just remember me

I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun

I’m with you
Whenever you tell, my story
For I am all I’ve done

Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory
Remember me

I am the one voice in the cold wind, that whispers
And if you listen, you’ll hear me call across the sky

As long as I still can reach out, and touch you
Then I will never die

Remember, I’ll never leave you
If you will only
Remember me

Remember me…

Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me
In your memory

Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended
I live forever 
Remember me

Remember me
Remember… me…

From the Troy soundtrack

Triumph of the Will

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Triumph of the Will
I am a slave.
A slave to myself
and my gritty impulses.
My base desires have me
in shackles, tormented
by the eager need to
Fulfill all my carnal cravings.
I think it often to be just
another wonder of human
nature: a palatable taste
for the finer things in life.
Yet the older I grow,
the more I age, and
the wiser I become
The clarity further seeps in.
I’m an animal, if not worse.
I was given an intellect
no other living creature had
and here I am, killing all
the limited moments I have left
on the earth for the sake of
gratifying my insatiable thirst
for the flesh of women.
Sickening and repulsive? Indeed.
I never diminish the beauty of love
and mating;
However, when the bounds are
consistently transgressed to no end
One must take a stand and ‘fess up
to the depravity.
I do not know the anointed time of my coming demise in this world,
Nor can I say with confidence
where I’m too dwell thereafter.
Therefore I’ve taken the time to hastily reevaluate myself and
draw up a more pragmatic model
for this part of my existence.
Restraint seems like a good start – a difficult one, nonetheless.
If I’m to ascend back into a state of grace and divine acceptance then I’m to do away with the frivolous and niggardly ways of the Bohemian quarters of society that I’ve so blindly chosen to reside in.
I need not luck nor a miracle;
The only triumph is that of the will.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 25, 2015

Arabella

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Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

Arabella

Arabella’s got some interstellar-gator skin boots
And a helter skelter ’round her little finger and I ride it endlessly
She’s got a Barbarella silver swimsuit
And when she needs to shelter from reality she takes a dip in my daydreams

My days end best when this sunset gets itself
Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side
It’s much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes

As Arabella
As Arabella
Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can’t be sure

Arabella’s got a 70’s head
But she’s a modern lover
It’s an exploration, she’s made of outer space
And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge
And her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place

My days end best when this sunset gets itself
Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side
It’s much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes

As Arabella
As Arabella
Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can’t be sure

That’s magic in a cheetah print coat
Just a slip underneath it I hope
Asking if I can have one of those
Organic cigarettes that she smokes
Wraps her lips round the Mexican coke
Makes you wish that you were the bottle
Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like…

Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can’t be sure

Written by Alex Turner