Bojana has a fire in her that cannot be quelled. She is brilliant and unapologetic. She loves fiercely and is incredibly kind. She is an immensely talented writer with a story that needs to be heard. She dances and rages, lives with her eyes open and boldly walks her own path. Bojana is not just a rebel, she is the rebellion.
I feel incredibly lucky to know Bojana. She teaches me something with every word she writes. She also loves poetry. She knows it is essential, an elixir, and she is more versed in the world of poetry that anyone else I know. She breathes vitality into the art of poetry and passionately appreciates how spectacular and beautiful it can be. From the moment I started reading her work and her reactions to my own and others work, she has been my Guru. She has taught me how to see poetry in new ways and shared in my passion for the art form. Bojana was and is an avid reader of poetry, but then she started writing it. It was a glorious explosion!!!!
Bojana’s poetry began with a revolution, an uprising that comes from a heart full of passion and a voice that needs to be heard. In her poems, she gives you everything; her bones and her rage, her blood, her vulnerability and an honesty so raw, it goes beneath your skin. It is poetry that comes at you in rapid fire and doesn’t allow you to look away. It steals your breath and gives you new eyes.
Bojana has been contributing passionately to National Poetry Month, introducing us to some incredible poets, and thankfully, sharing some of her own poetry. The most recently shared is Dinner for Three, an inventive, provocative and absolutely brilliant poem, in a voice that is unique, filled with fire, and is perfectly, totally and beautifully, Bojana.
DINNER FOR THREE
best friends dining breakfast leftovers
British black pudding
American baked beans, bacon and fried eggs from
countryside farms
dipping French toast into the yolk
food gets stuck in the back of their throats
a tedious repetition of ménage à trois
spinning the globe with their mouths full of
half-chewed food and cursing
dangerous countries glaring at them
a question rising like a tidal wave
where to eat out (this time)
who to fuck afterwards
somewhere far off, someone exotic
yes, we like exotic
checking out the list of the top global threats
up next
S…S…S…Serbia, no, been there
S…S…Siberia…nope, S… Syria, why the hell not
we’re mad enough
mad about the super modern research center in Damascus
and well-equipped storage facilities west of Homs
researching and storing something
an offensive to retaliate against
the suspected mass production of fog and
begin a sustained effort to make
them stop using everything banned, breathing including
today’s targets are pita bread
sprinkled with sesame seeds, spicy
chickpea salad, garlic
and lemon hummus, falafels
with fresh coriander leaves
kebab served with Aleppo pepper and
cookies filled with dates and pistachios
Big Daddy makes it abundantly clear all must go
we eat first, and discuss later
dinner goes like a bomb
can’t think on a full stomach
the world is looking at the satellite images of before and after
something turned into nothing
who wants to fuck with us now
April 27, 2018 at 9:00 am
Brilliant ❤️
April 27, 2018 at 1:00 pm
Yes!
April 27, 2018 at 9:46 am
Jesus, Suzie Q, didn’t I tell you I’m not good at taking compliments?!
OK, how about a poem instead? I feel like Poe today (one of my many gurus, inducing you).
Alone
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then – in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life – was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
April 27, 2018 at 11:41 am
This is perfect!
April 27, 2018 at 11:59 am
It is. He is.
April 27, 2018 at 1:00 pm
Meh shut up and take it…you deserve all the praise.
April 27, 2018 at 1:07 pm
Yes, Sir. I’l behave, I promise.
April 27, 2018 at 1:07 pm
Good girl!
April 27, 2018 at 1:20 pm
I totally agree, but you can’t deny that the Poe poem, in response, was pretty fucking cool, and so very Bojana!
April 27, 2018 at 3:31 pm
No, I cannot deny either of those two things.
April 27, 2018 at 10:48 am
I’m a big fan. 🙂
April 27, 2018 at 1:10 pm
You don’t say.
April 27, 2018 at 11:49 am
Bojana is the monsoon that brings all things equally, and unequally. Thrown at you with such force and reality then gone as quickly as she arrived. You are left to figure out the real message. Never a dull moment with Bojana! Bravo for the recognition and capture of the elusive Bojana, Susan! XO
April 27, 2018 at 12:00 pm
You have described her so perfectly, Kim! She is an amazing force!
April 27, 2018 at 12:59 pm
Such spot on words about an amazing writer and person. A long time ago I called her a Tender Beast. I think that still holds!!!
April 27, 2018 at 1:06 pm
It is perfect!
April 27, 2018 at 1:09 pm
Shoot, I meant including you (not inducing). lol
See how confused I was.
April 27, 2018 at 1:19 pm
I don’t know, you are pretty powerful; you could probably induce me into participating in all sorts of crazy things!! You know I love the typos! And, Wulf is right, you deserve the praise. I wouldn’t have written the post if I didn’t believe, with my whole heart, in you and your poetry.
April 27, 2018 at 1:35 pm
In that case, I’m getting down to work. I shouldn’t have sent all of them to those journals. Now, I’m left with none. But, I’ve got an idea. That’s a good start.
April 27, 2018 at 1:39 pm
I think you will be writing poetry forever, now that you have the bug!!!!