As April transits into May, we're excited and happy to publish the work of Mjamj Snjirc. We asked Snjirc—a native of Amsterdam residing in a small Hungarian village near the Croatian border—to contribute because her prolific output and multimedia approach to poetics is formidable and intensely beautiful. The video realization of this poem is embedded following the text.
The Love Who Is My Love Is My Love/1
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
talking silenty. Her silence is
gorgeous when she whispers her
whishes to me.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
lying next to me when I lie. And isn't
she lying next to me she is
lying in me. With her silent drum she
arouses me. Virtuoso rhythms
defying any analysis. Move me move me
move me move me.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
resting next to me when she rests. And
isn't she resting next to me
she is resting in me. The Love who is
my Love is a gorgeous warrior.
Her weapons are dedication and noble
courage.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
swims and swims and
swims and swims. Through the water
through the miracle. Her birth
will happen under a lucky star. The
same star that shone on the bed
in which I was bred.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
is unborn she is alive she
is dead.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
possesses the words. Within the words
she possesses she possesses
the time. Within the time she possesses
she possesses the space.
Within the space she possesses she
possesses the roads. Within the
roads she possesses she possesses the
elements.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is a
holiday dish. A holiday dish served up
in 1181 bowls. Each bowl
fired in last night's flames.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is a
fairy tale. A fairytale gathered from 7
times 7 mouths. It begins in
the winter that never ends. And ends in
the summer that never
begins.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
singing with the wind when she sings.
The Love who is my Love is
crying in me when she cries. She sings
and sings and sings and
sings. She cries she cries she cries
she cries.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
is unborn she is alive she
is dead.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
dreaming next to me when I dream. And
isn't she dreaming next
to me she is dreaming in me. She
introduces me to all of her
acquaintances. A procession of a
billion heads passes through my
house. I greet and greet and greet and
greet. And the best wishes
expressed in dizzying sounds. Heal me
heal me heal me heal me.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
lends me her glance. Her glance has a
reach of 360 degrees sharp.
Everything that comes within her range,
shows itself for a
gorgeously silent moment. We relish we
relish we relish we relish.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
possesses the flowers. Within the
flowers she possesses she
possesses the big smell. If her big
smell is heavy. She temps me
to drift and doze. If her big smell is
light. She animates my
wanderlust.
The Love who is my Love is my Love.
From the riches she offers, I
conscientiously pick my presents for
her. She lets me, because me
too she grants the joy of giving. And
because she knows the power
of the gesture of goodwill.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
walking next to me when I walk. And
isn't she walking next to me
she is walking in me. My step adjusts
itself to hers. Her step adjusts
itself to mine. She walks I walk she
walks I walk. Through the
distance through the light. Without the
slightest effort we arrive
where we should. A billiom laughing
faces welcome us. A table is set
with 1184 steaming bowls. As we join
the orchestra strikes up. A
mixture of rumba samba chachacha and
chardas. The sun dances
with the moon – the other planets
dance with the comets. We feast
we feast we feast we feast.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
words she possesses are
too long if they must be too long. Too
short if they must be too
short. The time she possesses is too
early if it must be too early.
Too late if it must be too late. The
space she possesses is too wide if
it must be too wide. Too narrow if it
must be too narrow. The roads
she possesses are too slow if they must
be too slow. Too fast if they
must be too fast. The elements she
possesses are too good if they
must be too good. Too bad if they must
be too bad.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
too big if she wishes to be too big.
The Love who is my Love is too
small if she wishes to be too small.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. Of
my Love I rest assured for
the remainder of my life. With my Love
I rest assured for the
remainder of my life. Through my Love I
rest assured for the
remainder of my life. In the morning I
drink a cup of tea. In the
afternoon I smoke a pipe. In the
evening I exchange stories in a
whisper. One time in the company of
some old Chinese. Another
time in the company of some old Finns.
Also sometimes in the
company of some old Indians. Then again
in the company of some
old Egyptians. This is how I pay my
dues – informal but strict.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
flies and flies and flies
and flies. Covered with snow from
northpole to southpole the earth
stretches gorgeously silent under her.
The never ending winter has
begun.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. Lie
my Love lie in me. Rest
my Love rest in me. Cry my Love cry in
me. Dream my Love dream
in me. Walk my Love walk in me. Glow my
Love glow in me.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
blows bubbles like a champion. A
billion transparant universes
trance through my house. Sparkling
jewels defying any reforging.
Transport me transport me transport me
transport me. The Love
who is my Love is generous if she
wishes to be generous. The Love
who is my Love is tight if she wishes
to be tight.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
possesses the forms. Within the forms
she possesses she possesses
the colors. Within the colors she
possesses she possesses the light.
Within the light she possesses she
possesses the miracle.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
is dead she is alive she is
unborn.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
forms she possesses are
complex if they must be complex. Simple
if they must be simple.
The forms she possesses are always
gorgeous. The colors she
possesses are intense if they must be
intense. Pale if they must be
pale. The colors she possesses are
always gorgeous. The light she
possesses is white if it must be white.
Black if it must be black The
light she possesses is always gorgeous.
The miracle she possesses
is nothing if it must be nothing.
Everything if it must be everything.
The miracle she possesses is always
gorgeous.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. She
is dead she is alive she is
unborn.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. My
Love and I – we are
pagans. She is a pagan I am a pagan.
Untamed we walk the earth.
She walks I walk she walks I walk. We
go through mountains – The
Himalayas The Kilimanjaro The Andes. We
go through deserts – The
Sahara The Gobi The Nullarbor. We go by
rivers – The Wolga The
Amazone The Mississippi. We go through
cities – Singapore Madras
Dakar. We arrive we stay we leave. My
Love and I – we are pagans.
We pay are dues – informal but
strict.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
sitting next to me when I sit. And
isn't she sitting next to me she is
sitting in me. Her flesh is firm. Firm
as the month of december. With
her firm flesh she keeps me firm. Her
breathing is calm. Calm as the
month of june. With her calm breathing
she keeps me calm. Her
glance is clear. Her glance has a range
of 366 days sharp. Every-
thing that comes within her range.
Blooms, gets fructified, ripens.
With her clear glance she keeps me
clear. The Love who is my Love
is my guide. I am firm – full of
eager patience. The Love who is my
Love is my guide. I am calm – full of
the violence of nature. The
Love who is my Love is my guide. I am
clear – full of dumb
happiness.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
talking silenty. Her silence is
gorgeous when she whispers her
whishes to me.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
possesses the music. Too warm if it
must be too warm. Too cold if it
must be too cold. Within the music she
possesses she possesses the
stones. Too warm if they must be too
warm. Too cold if they must
be too cold. Within the stones she
possesses she possesses the
energies. Too warm if they must be too
warm. Too cold if they must
be too cold.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love is
warm if she wishes to be warm. The Love
who is my Love is cold if
she wishes to be cold.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. The
Love who is my Love
possesses the fruit. The Love who is my
Love is a piece of fruit. With
her sweet juices she caresses the tip
of my tongue. With her bitter
juices she tickles the back of my
tongue. A billion drunken animals
prepare themselves for tomorrow. A holy
day on the calender of
eternity. The clouds are busy
decorating the sky. The thunder storm
finished the design for the light show.
On each of the 12 tables there
is room for 1190 bowls. Each bowl piled
with juicy delicacies.
By now the procession can arrive any
moment. When tomorrow is
over one by one each member will
continue on. And they will meet
up again at the joint destination.
Nobody will get lost. For everybody
gets dealt a compass whose needle is
pointed invariably towards
love.
As soon as Sagittarius comes in sight
Jascha strikes up. A mixture of
earth fire water and air. The moon
dances with the sun – the
comets dance with the other planets.
The Love who is my Love is a
gorgeous dancer. The Love who is my
Love asks me for a dance.
She dances I dance she dances I dance.
The beat of my heart
adjusts itself to hers. The beat of her
heart adjusts itself to mine.
My Love and I – we are tireless. We
dance and dance and dance and
dance.
The Love who is my Love is my Love. HOW
FARTHER SHE REACHES
HOW RICHER SHE IS. SHE, NCC.
To read more, visit her website.
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