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On the Edge On the Edge
by Gordana Mudri
2015-08-05 11:45:25
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On the Edge

I'm standing at the end of the path; thirty years long! I have fallen and got up many times. Each stone left wounds on my feet. Stubbornness drove me further.

The path, mapped out in my habits ... The path with illusions of safety...

fog01_400I've never been diverted. I should have... Warning signs were screaming everywhere ... Crossroads that I went through, calling to a new, unknown world; but it was easier to follow the habits and feed the illusion of security with my own fear of change.

Then they came.

Creatures without souls, with the flame of greed in their eyes.

Money has become God. Life has become hell. The human being lost its name, became number; runner on the unstoppable, relentless line.

The sacrificial sheep for the God - Money...

Now I'm standing in the middle of nothing. I cannot go back. The past unchangeable. My mistakes my punishment.

In front of me a wall; sky-high. I do not see the end ... Next to me the abyss; filled with the stench of the swamp and the whisper of desperate...

Only one step separates me...

The wall is cold and firm. Not a single crack to put my feet, to reach with hands. My body is weakened with wounds from the past. I do not dare climb to the top.

The abyss is a stale pile of numbers; thrown from the sacrificial altar. I'm afraid of their blood on my wounds and the infections they carry.

My brain is empty, paralyzed from fear. I stand and wait for a sign. I do not know where to go.

Too young to die ... Too weak to climb...

********************************************************************************

Na Rubu

Na kraju sam puta dugog trideset godina. Padala sam i dizala se bezbroj puta. Svaki je kamen ostavio rane na mojim stopalima. Nastavljala sam tvrdoglavo dalje.

Put zacrtan u mojim navikama... Put s iluzijom sigurnosti...

Nikada nisam skrenula. Trebala sam. Znakovi upozorenja vrištali su na sve strane... Raskršća koja sam prošla zvala su u nove, nepoznate svjetove, ali bilo je jednostavnije slijediti navike i hraniti iluziju sigurnosti vlastitim strahom od promjene.

Onda su došli oni.

Stvorenja bez duše, s plamenom pohlepe u očima.

Novac je postao Bog. Život je postao pakao. Čovjek je izgubio ime i postao broj; trkač na nezaustavljivoj, nemilosrdnoj traci.

Žrtvena ovca Boga Novca...

Sad stojim usred ništavila. Natrag ne mogu. Prošlost je nepromjenjiva. Moje su greške moja kazna.

Ispred mene zid, do neba visok, kraja mu ne vidim... Pored mene ponor; ispunjen smradom močvare i šapatom beznadnih očajnika...

Jedan korak me dijeli...

Zid je hladan i čvrst. Nema na njemu ni jedne pukotine da noge oslonim i rukama se dohvatim. Tijelo mi je oslabljeno ranama prošlosti. Ne usuđujem se krenuti prema vrhu.

Ponor je ustajala gomila brojeva; bačenih sa žrtvenog  oltara. Bojim se njihove krvi na mojim ranama i zaraze koju prenose.

Moj mozak je ispražnjen, paraliziran strahom. Stojim i čekam znak. Ne znam kuda dalje.

Premlada za umiranje... Preslaba za penjanje...

 

 


    
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Emanuel Paparella2015-08-05 14:58:03
The beginning of the journey above sounds very much like Dante beginning his journey in Hell. It is his journey but it is also the journey of us all; it is confessional but it is also social; it is concerned with salvation (which has nothing to do with one's occupation), but also concerned with the purpose of one's existence; subjective and objective, dialogic and solipsistic at the same time. It is feminist but universal at the same time. And all said without verbosity, in a few essential poetic sentences.

Thank you for sharing Ms. Gordana Mudri.


Gordana Mudri2015-08-08 17:52:09
Told of respected person and the philosopher as you Mr. Paparella, I can only say thank you for your attention and thoughts. Sometimes "less is more", right?
With all my respect, thank you sir


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