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Painting Starry Nights: A Collection of Short Poems

Artwork by CrocodileTears

You think I’m a sigh seller
Deep soul dweller
Travelling muse
But I’m just a
Former fortune teller
And a trapeze artist
Without a net

–Circus Artist

 

The hands that froze painting starry nights,
the thrill of a new romance,
the patient seeds of a dandelion –
all waiting for your breath

–On Poetry

 

Every incision
Came with such precision
I barely felt the pain.
But the scars remain.

–Scars

 

My apologies to all the insects
I killed in grade six
for a biology project.
Thirty of them, all different
(this was a requirement)
neatly displayed by size
on a square styrofoam board.
Tiny pins through their tiny hearts
(insects have hearts, don’t they?)
I got an A. I’m sorry.

–Public Apology

 

Is there anything
between us but space?
And if we fill it up
with words and hands,
will we become closer?

–Closer

 

Leaves are falling, my lovely one.
Leaves are falling, and so am I…
What will happen to all of us
When the good gardener is gone?

–Autumn

 

I wish there was a cat in me
Giving love like a huge favour
But there’s just a little puppy
Begging for it

–Animal Spirit

 

I am letting you go
Not like a cry
But bit by bit
Like life

–The Whisperer

 

—

Tanja Bulovic is a translator from Serbia living in South Africa. She is a manager during the day and a poet at night (and sometimes during the day too – inspiration does not care for working hours). For her, writing poetry started as an outlet for pain and then turned into something bigger. She writes in English, Serbian, and French. Her favorite authors are Charles Bukowski and John Irving. She loves African storms, strong coffee, science fiction, and cats. “My children tell me they are proud of me.”

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