MP 
Fahredin 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.
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
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
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.
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
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
FAHREDIN SHEHU
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
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