MP MBIZO9Fahredin  Shehu  is  An International Publicist, an acclaimed literalist   and a poet of global acclaim. His nerve wrecking  AND mind raving poetry is published and translated in several international journals, reviews, presses  and collections. Shehu is a World Ambassador of peace, unity and tolerance through his  writings  and  poetry . The highly revered poet believes in cultural exchanges, creative friendships and literary partnerships. Fahredin Shehu will be working with the Zimbabwe We Want Poetry Campaign,  African Poets ,the MiomboPublishing , Our Publishing  and Online Writers Mentorship program as an advisor and partner in projects. MP wants to thank   ICON Poet Shehu for accepting to be featured in the Time of the Poet Journal. A Big Thank YOU  to our readers, followers and poets. Keep on doing the work, Read, Follow and like our articles and the site. Contact us at miombopublishing@gmail.comMBIZO CHIRASHA/EDITOR.

 

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THERE

 

When you gaze up toward the forms of the white clouds

you find my face ablaze by the sun rays

mother or I am not…!?, wearing the brocade accoutrements

as in the bridal night,

with the hair anointed with lavender oil

with the face as a full Moon

in front of Venetian mirror

as in times when guns where shooting

while intermarry killing each other

as for who shall first pass the crossroad

between two cemeteries

one of the Plague and the other of children dead

by Measles

 

 

today when I bow down my sight and see my stomach

while earth is dragging by

somehow as I want to sing the song of the Midday

when the Sun vanishes your shadow

and the Bachelors faint

while looking bare feet escape of the Fairy with the inflamed

curly crest

the fragrance of Myrrh and Violet spreading all around

as in times when the Moon was adored as God

while Pagans prayed for the rain to fall

with bells and kelp,

elder leafs and bowing boughs

of the weeping willow folded

tomorrow we shall look straight in the eyes

seeing the lie of each other,

how it leaks as mercury in aged veins

with antimony poisoned while juvenile

and our faces will not blush out of shame

because we folded the darkness in rule

we bind it in a sack woven

in the Loom of the Sun

there where you drink the vine that never makes your drunk

where Love is done as breathtaking

and isn’t nominated as we do

there where the Word is done not uttered instead

 

 

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NEON CHILD

Inner Child Press, 2018

5.

 

Bloody ignoramus

They thought I am a stone

They thought I am a plant

They thought I am an animal

They thought I am Jinni

They thought I am an Angel

They thought I am an Angeloid

They thought I am a Salamander

They thought I am Daemon

They thought I am possessed

They though I am a lunatic poet

They thought I am a soul gambler

They thought I am holy indifferent

They though I am a New Age Templar

They thought I am a Muslim

They thought I am a Christian

They thought I am a Hebrew

They thought I am a Buddhist

They thought I am an Ascetic

They thought I am an Urban Eremite

They thought I am an Urban Pilgrim

They thought I am an Astral Projection

They thought I am a Hologram

They thought I am Fata Morgana of icy desert

They though I am Morgan le Fay

They thought I am Lilith

They thought I am Ahura Mazda

 

But I am what “I am”

A Neon Child

 

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BENEATH THE ICY DESERT

 

Some limbs felt asleep

dormant as fossils of the Ice Age

waiting a blue flame of Love

to once again ignite the passion for

another half-life

full of zest for the Age of Turmoil

when the White Man encroach a soil

and shook the frozen waters unable to flow

amidst the core of the Earth.

 

We have been there…

assembled to parliament as cantankerous

without finding any truth particle beneath the Icy Desert

nor any ears of understanding was able to hear

the tweets of children with one eye blue and another red

and the hissing blinks of eyes of curious rapidly damaging

the vision for crystalline Truth naked bare naked Creature.

 

I heard echoes of the distant Earths echoing Your name

and the winds as wings blowing the grayed hair of mine

I felt a flock of Angels flutter over as them only

they have no resemblance or our Spirit have any measure

for Love we never kindled in our hearts that were never a figment.

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DRAGOI

 

Dragoi was his name until he died after

His father’s curiosity

Killed him with his

Bloody voyeur -ing

 

He used to wake up

In the morning and listen

The rooster of far Shkodra

In Albania

When the rooster finished

He went to a mother’s recess

And told her how many evil

He killed with the pole

Made of hazel wood

 

Mother old with the map

Of heaven in her face

Use to smile, pamper

And roll few tears so they

May leak in Dragoi’s cheeks

 

Small wings Dragoi kept hidden

Beneath his muslin tunic

Tailored by his mother Miriai

 

And the sigils of some

Grand archangel were

Embroidered with the aquamarine

Color silk bought in Thessaloniki

Before Austro Hungarian

Prince franz Ferdinand

Was assassinated in Sarajevo

 

As the days were regrouping

In bunches as vine-sticks

Mother was collecting

The blood color rose petals

For jam that was

A continuous family delight

 

Father sneaked in the room

Behind the curtains

Of heavy brocade

Observed Dragoi undressing

To have a ritual bath

With the salts of seven seas

Melted in a bathtub

 

Father saw in awe the wings

Of Dragoi- one in the left

Another in the right side of his back

 

The father fainted out of fear

The mother came in after the pain

As harsh as lightning

That splits the sky

In her womb knowing

About the death

Of Dragoi

Her one and only miracle

She brought from seven heavens afar

Yet she bear the lump

In the back of her scalp

As a mark and as a seal off

For distant skies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I DON’T CARE IF YOUR EYES ARE BLUE

 

As the days are passing

I grow old and my hair

From gray to cosmic blue transforms

Every crook I met so far

Dispel out of fear

Throughout the holes of the earth

 

In my presence the snowflake celebrates

Its coldness and its beauty

The Sun sings the happiest song ever

 

I don’t care if your eyes are blue

And your day is black

 

Nor do I care

If you hate me not

Or if you hate me just…or

Disappointed you were recently

 

My absence is a punishment where

You saw the seeds of your disgrace

 

Now after I release you

From the ties of my grace;

Amazing and Divine

As angelic as it may be

You are free to beg for

Mercy all around

 

To travel or even to hate others

Unselectively; only if you are aware

 

You disappointed God, your parents

Siblings and finally me

 

When you walk

The chlorophyll turns yellow

The dog walks sneaky with

The tail curved in between

The last two extremities

 

The pearl looses its shine and

The diamond fogs its surface

Rosemary hides its odor

Only her name remains

 

Bitter is the honey

In the mouth of those

Around you

 

Bitter is the kiss

Of the embraced

Youth even if

You don’t greet them

 

The milk turns yoghurt and

The wine becomes vinegar

 

Women you hardly are

For the God sake

Your powers are so destructive

While you enjoy in crime and

Strongly believe in your

Innocence

 

Fatal is the day

Oh… most fatal women

I ever met

 

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 FAHREDIN SHEHUImage may contain: one or more people and closeup is a poet, writer, essayist and Independent Scientific Researcher in the field of World Spiritual Heritage and Sacral Esthetics.

Born in Rahovec, South East of Kosova, in 1972, he graduated at Prishtina University in Oriental Studies. Passionate of Calligraphy, he actively works on discovering new mediums and techniques for this specific form of plastic art. Certified expert in Adult learning/ Capacity Building, Training delivery, Coaching and Mentoring, Facilitating etc.

He published several books in Albanian and English; to name just few of them: Poems “Dismantle of hate”- selected poems in English, E-book 2010, Ronin Press, London, “Crystalline Echoes”, selected poems in English, Hard copy and e-book 2011, Corpos Editora – Porto, Portugal, “Pleroma’s Dew”, Selected poetry in English, Hard copy and Kindle/ Amazon Edition, 2012 Inner Child Press, New York (1st edition) USA,

The Pen”- selected poetry in Serbian Language, Arhipelag Publisher, Belgrade, Serbia, 2013, “MAELSTROM- The Four Scrolls of an Illyrian Sage”- Epic Poem, (1st edition)- Inner Child Press, New York, USA, 2014. The last epic poem Maelstrom, treats spiritual insights, visions, creative turmoil in mental faculties of the creator, etc. that oscillates between Theurgy and Revelation. It displays a Spatiotemporal efficiency of poetry as the best tool for telling the untold.

 Anthologies, Yearbooks, Journals:

The World Poets Yearbook 2009, Bei Jing, China, Poetas del Mundo Anthology, Santiaogo de Chile, Blue Max Magazine, Dublin, Ireland, Check Point Poetry– collection, Le Reti di Dedalus, Italy, Alquimia de la Terra- Anthology,  Universidad da Huelva, Spain, Ann Arbour Review, Michigan, USA, Coldnoon Literary Magazine, Jawhalal Nehru University, New Delhi, India, World Healing World Peace– Poetry Anthology,

New York, USA, Anthology for the Rights of Hazara People, Oslo, Norway.

His work is translated in English, French, Italian, Spanish, Polish, Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, Macedonian, Roma, Swedish, Turkish, Arabic, Hebrew, Romanian, Chinese, Maltese, Bahasa/ Malaysian, Benghali, Frisian, Sicilian.

He is also author of the novel, “The Honeycomb”- Authors edition, 2013, which is structured in 8 angels through 8 human occupations as an accomplishment of Bee honeycomb, making reader the ninth one, referring to symbolism of Enneagram that is for the first time in Albanian language explained through this novel.

His most recent book Elisir (Elixir, bilingual Albanian- Italian edition 2017, Pelicano Libri, Rome, Italy), triggered huge attention

Fahredin Shehu is the Poet Laureate of Gold Medal for Poetry as bridge to Nations, Axlepin Publishing-Philippines, being selected among many world excellent poets, writers, photographers and painters that contributed for making World a better place, 2014. Naaji Naaman Prize Lebanon 2016

He is actually a Director and Organizer of International Poetry Festival “Poetry and Wine”, in Kosovo

 END…………………………………………….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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