Category Archives: Poet

Ode to Writing


Ode to Writing

It’s been too long since I’ve been out
Missing out on life without a doubt

Writing through the pages with my pen
But the ink sinks deep into the sand

I don’t just do it for fun and games
It brings satisfaction, though petty gains

Spent my money on my girl,
But she drives me mad and makes me hurl

Waste my time everyday
Hoping that love will come my way

I’m really bad at writing songs
My guitar-playing sucks, because the chords are wrong

But when it comes to lyrics I’m pretty good,
So I’ll stick to writing as I know I should

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
June 18, 2013


Made Up My Mind


I made up my mind
I’m moving away
To any place I could find
Where it’s sunny everyday

Looking for love, while having some fun
Clearing all the garbage
From the road that I run
Escaping the horrors of the carnage

The mountains are high
The clouds are low
Aiming for the sky,
But I’m going with the flow

Commandeering the boat
Struggling to keep it afloat
If I act before I think,
Then my boat is bound to sink

Peace is within the mind and soul
But must originate from the heart
Seek it now or never, don’t wait till you’re old
I’ve made up my mind, and that’s a start

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
June 17, 2013

Whatever It Is, I Like It


Whatever It Is, I Like It

The withering wind of the midnight hour
Blows me closer to you, leaving more to devour
Uniting our bodies with the ecstatic pleasure of love under the gleaming moonlight
Kissing away our sorrows, caressing our senses voraciously all throughout the night

My heart trembles in excitement from the texture of her smooth oily skin,
Journeying from her luscious mouth down to her voluptuous hips
Completely immersed in awe – this is where hell ends and where heaven begins
Encompassing my treasured parts she welcomes me inside again and again
Like a bowl full of delicious fruit, it’s the delightful taste of sin

Levels upon levels we ascend; turning from side to side as we row
Our heated bodies in a locomotive flow
Soaring to new heights, the beauty intensifies with every thrust
Savoring the replenishing taste of her sex; deep in love with her being, both physical and spiritual,
My desire for her is not mere lust, it’s something more than that
I do not know what it is, but whatever it is, I like it

Ni Bogova Ni Molitava

prayer nor gods

Ni bogova ni molitava

Ni bogova ni molitava!
Pa ipak biva ponekad da čujem
Nešto kao molitven šapat u sebi.
To se moja stara i večno živa želja
Javlja odnekud iz dubina
I tihim glasom traži malo mesta
U nekom od beskrajnih vrtova rajskih,
Gde bih najposle našao ono
Što sam oduvek uzalud tražio ovde:
Širinu i prostranstvo, otvoren vidik,
Malo slobodna daha.

by Ivo Andric

Translation for English:

Neither gods nor prayer

Neither gods nor prayer!
Yet occasionally I’ll hear in me
Something like a praying whisper.
That’s my old and eternal wish
Appearing from deep within
And soft-voiced it asks for a bit of room
In one of the infinite heavenly gardens,
Where I would finally find that
Which I always sought here in vain:
Breadth and vastness, an open view,
A little respite.

A Garden Among Flames

Whirling 32

A Garden Among Flames

O Marvel,
a garden among the flames!

My heart can take on
any form:
a meadow for gazelles,
a cloister for monks,

For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka’ba for the circling pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah,
the scrolls of the Qur’án.

I profess the religion of love;
wherever its caravan turns along the way,
that is the belief,
the faith I keep.

Written by Ibn Arabi
From Poem 11 of the Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, translation by Michael A. Sells.

Lost My Voice in New York City – Leonard Cohen


Lost My Voice in New York City

Lost my voice in New York City
never heard it again after sixty-seven
Now I talk like you
Now I sing like you
Cigarette and coffee to make me sick
Couple of families to make me think
Going to see my lawyer
Going to read my mail
Lost my voice in New York City
Guess you always knew

By Leonard Cohen

I Hear the Wind Blowing


I Hear the Wind Blowing

There are no words I could use
to describe the feeling I have
The day is warm, but breezy
I feel the calmness of the air blowing through the waves in my hair
The scent of the green grass uplifts my senses
Allowing me to recognize my surroundings better

I watch as the seagulls fly across the great blue sky
And stare at the street where the pigeons wabble around in search for food along the grassy facade of the cathedral
The sounds of music could be heard from St. Catherine’s as the loving people of this city dance and cheer to the coming of a new season
Summer is here and the weather is paradisiacal; it isn’t hot or cold, but just right
Somehow the temperature has found a way to maintain an equilibrium in its levels of comfort

I hear the wind blowing as it swirls balls of cotton in the air of this enchanted city
Carrying with it the tidings of peace
I’ve seen many nice days,
And have lived a couple of beautiful ones,
But never have I experienced a day like this one
It is as if today is a day unlike any other

Hundreds of miles away from home I don’t feel that home is too far
My soul is dwelling in a place where its rejuvenation is constantly being watered
The connection that I’m having with the beauty of the current scene has made me come to a realization:
Home is where the heart finds rest –
Where the tranquil taste of submission to God’s majesty and might
Infuses with the acknowledgment of His never ending grandeur

So as I sit on the grassy square pondering the beauty before me
I listen to the blowing of the gentle wind that blows into me words of wisdom and inspiration
Words that are flown here from the clouds of paradise and into the hearts of man

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
Montreal, Canada
June 9, 2013