# Kultura > Letërsia shqiptare > Krijime në gjuhë të huaja >  Mohican

## Fiori

_Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared:
The worst is wordly loss thou canst unfold: -
Say, is my kingdom lost?_ -- Shakespeare


and then I think....


My whisper it's a step behind
countless lies
emerged stir-fry
tingle of hearts
a blast that lasts
and glory, glory, glory
to the last of Mohicans...

----------


## Fiori

Spasm of survival
in the longing face
of a missing mistress.
Arbitrary sorrow
for the expectation of the last
Dream
Nightmare
Hug
Fountain of kisses 
and then
it all fades.
Was I there to catch that last breath?
Remembrance  
to the Poseidon of all my thoughts
survival, I call his name
to breath once more
for there's nothing left
no one, no more.
Spasm

----------


## Fiori

It's all about character, attitude, personalityIf one gives them up, what's left?! I rumble to forgive myself, to execute the broadcasting of our era, to maybe create the one path you can follow. But I sing! I sing whatever comes to my mind, old songs, new songs, made up songs, melodies, I sing. The story it's simple, the story is a replica of all the other stories. It's the same story that brought to life the snake, the one story that keeps us here. There's a character here, the only simple, different, similar character, an abandoning of self taught melodies. It is a transmitted smile connecting the well known mirror with the light image that reflects you. It is all in front of your very own eyes. It's a pound of meat that drags our lust. It's another attitude who found itself in the middle of a parking lot, spilling out the consciousness. The appearance! What sorrow must that exhale? Forgiveness! Yes, for there's nothing, nothing but a character in front of a mirror sight.

----------


## Fiori

*...*

- "I have nothing to say about this _self_ thing. I mean why should I, even if I could. It's hard enough to think that all has to come out in the open when the older ones die. You have to tell them the truth when they die, you know. You can't just go to the cemetery and lie about things, after all, they can see what you really do. And, I don't mean just anybody following you around to figure out if you really messed yourself up or not. Why would you be interesting to anybody?! What I mean, are grandmas' and people like that. Can you imagine how horrifying that could be?!  
It's all fleshy and raw this idea. I can already taste the sushi. And I really do like sushi, but God, I wouldn't be able to live off of it.  There's no trouble really. Maybe it's all a misunderstanding. Let's start over again. I came here to…"
- "I could just buy you a dress?!"

*...*

----------


## Cupke_pe_Korce

> *...*
> - "I could just buy you a dress?!"
> 
> *...*


Actually, I was thinking of a new hair style.

----------


## Fiori

*****
Her demolished presence, structured his eyebrows. 
- Frenzy isn't itthis cultural dilemma on curiosity?! But, plain and simple, I do not care...yet I can't escape this involvement in the counters of our own presence. You tell me who can overcome fall's intrusion and I'll let it go?! 
- Care to dance?! Just like the sunset...
- I never liked instrusions. Such a nasty habit! 

*****

----------


## Fiori

_extract  from_ "The City Of The Deaf"

So you're asking me about love. And what makes me the expert dear?! What a dreadful word don't you think?! I hate certain words just like I hate certain people. There's nothing wrong with such strong feelings, because a feeling has to be strong if it is a feeling. For anything that's gray it's just not there, it's recyclable, it's non sense really. It's a waste of time for all of us as a matter of fact. Because it is a waste of our potential, our ability to really be there for who we are. Alienated figures of what some kids used to be. And let me stop for a second here. 
What is that we're looking at the end?! Is it really love?! Love's as cheap as this conversation. It's a delusion, a word that never really existed, it's a made up concept like the spoon itself. Have you ever thought of that?! A spoon I mean. Is it really the need for communication that made us name a spoon as we did? If so, why was the need to name a spoon around the world, so many different things? It's because we think in language and not in thought. We walk the yellow line and when one's not there, we just fall. And then you come to me because you need to know the truth about love. I can love every day, because I love the longing for "self", for thought. It's because I was born blind and was never introduced to this yellow line. It's because I inherited all the selfishness there is. And the more you have, the more you want. And the more you get, the more you fear. Please, do not try to follow, I've been lost for a long while now. The way back it's not what I'm looking for, but the end, one must find the end for "it" to be a "self".

It was fall…everything fell so marvelously!

….

Fiori

----------


## land hysa

gezuar vitin e ri fiori  ju uroj lumturi ne jet dhe dashuri me paterjotet jashte atdheut te puth fort landi ali_pashai@hotmail.com

----------


## Fiori

*Winter poem*

There’s no reason within my reasoning
There’s no idea, no certainty 
Rained down morning and splashed down evening
“It’s all downhill from here my dear.”

There’s a yellow light with bright red letters
An ugly rope and ugly streets
Jungle of reasons within my reasoning
And then there’s a stop on “Tenth Street”.

There’s continuation of memories 
that simultaneously breathe within
But there’s no space for heartbeats, no space for growing
There's just some people who smile and greet.

Some crying doves that missed the train
and walked the streets in search for tears.
Dumb, stupid birds – always appearing 
A winter painting, just full of $$$$!

And in the corner an old man sitting
Seems to be singing the same old jig
There's no one dancing and no one listening
To the grand opening for the coming spring.


............

----------


## PrInCiPiEl

The Last of the Mohican - Ennio Moricone

----------


## Fiori

*Reflexes*

It wasn’t about the make-up, although it was all new to me since I had never seen her wear any before. It was a beautiful green glass container, one of those fancy ones you usually see in the so known exotic commercials. The kind of commercials you end up remembering either by their dominant color or by their romantic, non related music on the background. Nevertheless I do remember the container. At that moment it seemed to be the only thing in color whereas the rest of the room had this black and white symphony of mix-matching that interrogated any piece of life puzzled in the air. 

She finally gasped sweetly and that usually meant she was about to say something after the long pause that truly was wheezing the both of us. I would have been less scared at that moment if a snake would have wandered his way into the room, but one can only loose its power due to these time emerging happenings. These stimulations of what’s about to happen and its certainty. 

She put the moisturizer on trying to see her face in the darkness of it all. “I’m getting ready to become my grandmother” – she said. 

Dead people had never frightened me like that before. Our tomorrow suddenly morphed into a green island, where the sun just happened to shine for the last time.

----------


## Fiori

*The outside*

Sadness has opened up its path
and this is no fall
it's the pretense for growing
becoming a dream
realizing that self is not
the outcome,
is the small feature we lost
years ago,
looking at their faces
and realizing that maybe
pretending was better.

Sadness is growing up a tree
and this is no life juice
it spreads within ones' veins
and fails to kill
the only spoken word
like happy so to speak
that was said sharp as time
with reason.

----------


## Fiori

*When I first met them*

Their senses fight subconscious awareness* 
of an entire generation of talkers.
and then she says 
"May I" 
in a green polyester suit
and dark helmet hair
she sneaks and rolls her tongue
sneezing out a true picture of horror. 

By name who’s gone mad?!
The creepers of tomorrow
change colors when it rains
and burst out in mushrooms
of their own contempt 
since what is Right
it's right here,
it’s what we all just said. 

Their senses fight 
subconsciously 
dressed up in green polyester voice.

----------


## Fiori

*Still life*

Oh give me a moment here
Ive heard its not right to eat 
when talking to a lady.
Do you have a dollar miss?

This spring rain, pours down memories
in little bits,
they flood the city streets.
a dollar for your sorrows
Miss.

----------


## Fiori

*Snow ball*

Change comes expensive
in bulks of loneliness and
distances. 

Carryon…

With a snow ball as a present
for such a remote game,
too tepid to kiss up 
our tomorrow.

This song...
Over and over again.

----------


## EXODUS

Femra; nje histori ende e pabotuar, me te vertete! 
Ma ha mendja se do e marr vete persiper ndonje dite...haven't I already?! :D

----------


## Fiori

*Blessed*

Bring justice to my "forgiveness"
adolescent, as I still see it
wearing a short yellow dress with long black hair,
bursting white breasts carved into blooming flowers
and a woman who sits next to it concerned 
with the _eschatological_ fact of this recital . 
A book’s romance is now spring’s fallen petal,
lost in a running stream of singing angels. 


p.s. Pershendetje dhe ti...

----------


## Fiori

Nonsense, your thoughtful nightmares in a milky morning spread, an eager try to console once future. It's all balloons in an every day existence, a single today, this morningmade no sense. People die and more are being born, this routine is monstrous. My luggage makes a two way stop. In a possessive superiority over any other traveling "thing", it's a step ahead from any possible goodbye. Eagerness, desire, comfort and belonging, _(this last one more than others)_ reside in a magical symphony of events. And after that, no one really exists. Sometimes, they all try to intrude through the wired transmission of a box or even just by appearing in follow-up sceneswhat have we become?! The past is in possession of the future and I'm still wearing a blue dress on my first concert. Still lifea circus!

----------


## Fiori

***......***......***

‘….life is business’ – he said. 
Meanwhile I was trying to remember if this was something I had read on CNN.com, two days ago when Katia and I were reading through an article about a deadly earthquake or if it was just another cliché he had picked up on his frequent business trips? I’m sure all he said had some point and of course a very valuable lesson, but I’ve had plenty of those to last me a lifetime now. And don’t get me wrong, I love listening to anything he has to say. It’s the whole teaching and learning experience that’s loosing its value with time. It’s quite easy to teach people anything. We tend to want to know what we don’t know and that is what makes us so vulnerable towards those things that are just waiting to be ‘made up’ so that some fool can learn them so willingly. 

Katia insists that I visit this doctor because it was a doctor who saved her mom and that doctors tend to be good conveyers of miracles. I believe she’s really got ‘ADD’. And then it hits me, it was the doctor, during my last visit who mentioned this whole ‘life and business’ thing. He should know…Feeling like an old car it has never been a problem for people. It’s the idea of expiration that freaks us out. This is how I got the interview for my last promotion [you’ve got to pay more attention to my words if you didn’t get this]. My superior believes I should play poker more often. The only trouble with this is that I’ve never played poker, nor do I like to watch poker. 

I kiss him! He always tastes so good. He’s warm! He kisses me back…we kiss. We make love! I cry, he smiles… I get up and get ready for my next visit to the doctor, he gets ready for his next trip. I try to say how scared I am…things taste so much better this way. My fear is sweet, and tastes good and is warm, and kisses me back! I walk down the street not scared of a car accident. He jumps over water puddles, wearing his new suit. Maybe he’s got a date?! I want to feel jealous, I can’t!

Katia stands on the other side waving at me. She looks worried. 

My ambition to love, it was just another ambition. It grew as I grew. Eager to meet the deadline… 


***......***......***


p.s. fjalët

----------


## Fiori

*What’s right?!*

Ambiguity never solved your problems
nor did it help dissolve your sorrows
it crumbled your solitude  
and your reasons 
broke the path across tomorrow…

Oh darn,
as you walk pretending
what I said did not smother your ‘glory’,
broken wing and  fractured splendor
slowly, slowly, slowly …
It’s consuming your joy!

----------

