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Here's To You
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Here's To You

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A book of selected poems and photogrpaphs by Ana Velinova. Published by Lista Press, 2004. Copy right by Lista Press and Gergana Velinova.

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Gergana as a Poet

What is the source of poetry? From what spring does language flow? These questions are as old as cave paintings or the stories told around a communal fire...Like sparks rising on the warm air, Gergana's poems illuminate the night sky, becoming stars that arc toward God. In ancient times the communal fire was a place of safety and sharing, and in this poetry one feels the connection and affirms, as the 14th century mystic Julian of Norwich wrote, "All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Gergana's poetry is not just beautiful language or insightful metaphor. It is more. It comes from her soul's journey of hope and longing, and reaches depths that leave one feeling both quietly human, and vibrantly eternal. Perhaps this is the heart of poetry: the extension of the human spirit into the vast unknown, where all knowing, all being is formed.

Poetry is the story of journey, of exploration. As T. S. Eliot wrote, "We shall not cease from exploration." As we explore sometimes in the valley of the shadows, sometimes on the high peaks of joy, we sing, we write, we dance. Gergana knows this and sings, writes, dances. Her soul is a spark circling up from the human fire. It is light burning in the night sky, joining the countless lights that show the way home...Gergana's poetry gives dignity to our struggles and helps us walk into the heavens without fear. Her words gladden my heart.

Revered Russell O'Neal Clay
West End Poetry Press, New York City
from preface to "Here's To You"



This Road

This road i walk on is narrow and hidden.
My bear body covered with thorns.
My mouth ever so dry.
Bloody drops drip from my small feet,
smear the soil and stones.
i meet others who travel,
wandering why i wish to walk here. Not there.
When all i could do is make a small step, change my direction.
Why do i only eat seeds,
when i could feast 'round the big human fires.

Why? Why? Why?
i don't know.
Maybe i'm in love with a Bird
who's tripping around, singing:
follow me, follow me,...and you shall find.
Yes, i do bleed.
Yet something inside me
pushes me forward, waters my mouth.
Maybe i ought to be crazy
when seeing the trails of my blood,
i hysterically laugh,
for it shows me that i am alive!

This road i walk on is narrow and hidden.
Here, you must learn to feed from the soil,
and drink from the lakes.
Here, you can shower with rain,
and shelter your body with blankets of leaves.
Here, you can talk to the plants,
and play with the beasts.
 And when your heart tells you a poem at midnight,
you may ask the Moon kindly, she'll lend you her light.

This road i walk on,
so narrow and hidden,
is just what i've searched for
since the day i was born.

 G. V. 2004
from "Here's To You"


Am I a Mystic

Am I a mystic,
or is it rather mysterious what has come into me?
To walk the streets like a ghost with eyes shut yet to see?
Only dust in the wind, passing clouds, sand in the hand..

I own nothing but a heart pumping love.
Its a bottomless well, you can drink from it, but...
Like flowers arranged in a beautiful vase,
intentions are fragrant... yet dust in the hand!
Yes, my skin and face pretty,
my songs angel's prayers..yet...
dust in the wind, sand in the hand.

God's words wash us clean every morning and eve
but His call is to feel them and watch how we live.
If I count all the minutes breathing in vain,
all the doubts, the complaining what will I get?
Only dust in the wind, sand in the hand...

 My beautiful friend what else can I say?
Lets simply live what we pray for and do what we say.
Lets grow wings and feathers, and fly to His door,
then bow to His Essence and kiss Him hello.

G.V. 2005
The Things I Like

you know this feeling when you really like a thing,
and you want to have it, now and more and always?
and this urgent longing burns you like a sting
madly scratching up and down and sideways?

like the thing of love for oysters
on a plate with lemon juice
or the moss that grows on cloisters
you can dance on with out shoes.

like the noise of rocks and pebbles
washing gently on the beach
or the smell of morning bagels
when you order one of each.

like the dream of distant places
that you wish to visit soon
or to look at foreign faces
humming strange and simple tunes.

like a night of chanting prayers
sitting calmly on a dune
with a heart attuned with flair
underneath an orange moon.

like the taste of cream and berries
that is good, you must admit,
or a pie with sour cherries,
someone said: "forget the pits!"

like a kiss in summer midnight,
hiding in a lilac tree
like a workout during twilight
or swimming naked in the sea.

oh, those things are so delicious,
and I want to have them all,
but, I know, I'm too capricious,
so ill stop!...and say no more. 

photo of Gergana and mom taken by Vesselin Velinov. poem by G.V. April 30, 2010 

A Page From The Diary of a Fasting Fool

What would you say if i told you that my fasting guts are so thrilled
to withhold from the pleasure of food in His Name
i feel as if Beethoven’s Eroika keeps playing inside of my tummy each day.
And my dried mouth thinks its the burning heat of waterless summer
somewhere in the heart of Somalia or Chad
searching for wells alongside a barefoot child
with cracked lips just like the earth’s.
My head dizzy, my thoughts slow like an intimate dance,
i move through the hours from sunrise to sunset
ecstatic, triumphant, yearning, in love with the pain.

Let me starve, give me less,
take my shoes, break my cup,
unveil my vision, burn my illusions,
close my eyes, open my heart,
shut my mouth, freeze my step,
another day, another hopeful moment,
pause this endless pursuit of cravings for cravings,
so i may see the Core, so i may hear the Voice,
so i may drown in this ocean of beautiful nothingness,
ecstatic, triumphant, yearning, in love with His Name.

G.V. March 10, 2011

What Do You See

come a little closer,
come, look behind this skin,
what do you see?
what do you see?

busy highways with traveling dreams,
roads that lead to never ending questions,
locked doors with oversized keys?

come a little bit closer,
come, look inside this mind,
what do you see?
what do you see?

a pinkified castle filled with joyful family plans?
atoms conversing about the mater of Love,
will they agree or will they divorce thereof?

come a little bit closer,
come look inside this heart,
what do you see?
what do you see?

a perpetual tear recycling factory,
that hoses sentimental gardens with hopeful white daisies?
or a lonesome soldier holding the flag of Illusion?

come a little bit closer,
come look inside this Soul,
what do you see?
what do you see?

a heavily trodden path to the "Tree beyond which there is no passing?"
a whirling dervish hysterically laughing?
or a one wing dove trapped in a cage?

come a little bit closer,
come look behind this skin,
what do you see?
what do you see?
do you see me?

G.V. October 12, 2011