Hey, be careful, the Pharmacist

Of Poisons is coming…

Kristaq F. Shabani, an acclaimed poet from Albania, shares his poetry

Kristaq F. Shabani is a poet, writer and researcher, popular in Albania and other countries. He had appeared before the reader with several special books, in all the genders, starting from poetry volumes, volumes with sketches and stories, novels, journalism etc. He has prepared for publication two books with contemporary critic thinking. He has participated in many poetry anthologies publicized in some countries such as Mongolia, India, Greece, Italy, England etcetera as well as in many international organizations in the field of literature. Furthermore, many personalities from the literary world have written about his literary activity, in many countries. He has been awarded by ABI and IBC many titles as well as he is a winner of many international prices. In the year 2011 he was declared by ABI (USA) “Man of the Year 2011”. In the year 2017 he has been proposed A POTENTIAL CANDIDATE FOR “NOBLE” PRIZE FOR PEACE FOR THE YEAR 2017 BY IWA (OHIO) USA. He has prepared for publication 42 other works in different genres, including the field of critic study and thinking.

THE CUTTING POISON

Hey, be careful, the Pharmacist

Of Poisons is coming

The designer of the Poisons

Motivated once

“The Aga of the Poisons”

The designer of the medicines

Of the mummification

Of the beheaded heads…

Beheaded heads, a capital punishment

Of the Empires….

In the Arena of extreme Pleasures… What of a drama!

Desire of the small-hearted Sultans.

Lovers of bleeding, with the souls of the murders

Accompanied with interjections of pleasure:

Beading of opponents,

For their extermination…

The niches of shame growing,

The niche of shame full

With beheaded heads of the those who are not tempted

From the dictate of the new sultanates …

The niche: an exponent of ire-elimination

Beheaded heads… beheaded heads

Blackmail to the human life…

Prolonging the existence in process of mummificatin,

From those centuries mummified. The beheaded heads narrate heroism,

The present day of the beheading cries with

” different style and talent…, without exposal “Shame Niche” Hidden in shivering backs…

The Shame Niche exposed in depth of the ground…

Speaking with the Gorgonje’s tongue…

Gasping with poisonous speech of the water snake…

***

DEOLING OF THE WALLS

The dividing walls of an idea,

The dividing walls of a property,

The dividing walls of minds,

The walls of the walls of the attacks,

Of small-minded quarrels, of bonkers regression,

Of spontaneous surprise,

Of the imitator gossips,

Of the envious intimidation, of surveyor presence

Of the over-devilish murderer,

Of the pulsating maniac divorce…,

Of the quarrel of the wild states… The walls maltreat the walls. The terminus:

Walls of anti-thoughts

They sing the anti-song of the Walls

Calling in their oval construct

The orthographic glaciers…, without showing care

For their museal tension reduction…

***

THE CURSE AJKUNA’S PRIME WORD …

 The strange Ajkuna-s, cannot be seen

In the pulpit anymore

The always appear in river waves;

Cursing bridge building

For stopping the Fairies’ anger

The hours in such cases turn into cursed hours.

Is it possible to walk on these bridges,

Built over blue-eyed rivers?!…

From moment to moment demolition expects them, In a vertical falling…

 

Ajkuna is orating

With her human, biting speech,

The delirium stretches the undetected claws and metastases …

Heavy is the poplar’s leaf!

And all the leaves have gained weight

Extremely heavy

is the cradle rocking,… Everything covered by extreme darkness

It does not allow the agony to appear, like breath

Ajkuna is playing the role of the crier,

In this mess of destruction,

Ordering the punishment as a gift

For the extreme curse enmeshed from the Curse Island,

Not reaching to give birth to the nightingale from her belly…

Fairies, in twisting climaxes of anger,

Emerge demonstratively from the Planet of Joy

The bridges built with moving stones,

Muscles lost

Twist, get cut in the middle, from the punishment-curse

The curse a rubber prime word, twisting

A product of active superstitions;

The rivers dye the water with mud,

In a yellow panorama the flows exhaust… Epitaphing the bridges…

Over the swinging corner the Fairies compete,

With the soul’s elegance escaped from murder…

Ajkuna-s reappear after falling in river’s waves …,

To prepare the new acting curses…

______________ 

Coordinated by Angela Kosta Executive Director of the Magazines: MIRIADE, NUANCES ON THE PANORAMIC CANVAS, BRIDGES OF LITERATURE, journalist, poet, essayist, publisher, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter