Author: Duska Vrhovac

Isidora

Duska pays her tribute to one of 20 th century’s important woman writer, Isidora.* Fifty years, fifty summers, you have lain here, my Isidora, knitting moonlight in Topčider Cemetery, your arms full of rains, your face covered by handfuls of earth, surrounded by swarms of glow-worms, glimmering guardians of crucified light. You still lie alone, […]

To Find my own Word

Duska tries to find her own word, her own voice, as all poets and writers do in this verse. Countless poets have already told                                                       how they see a […]

There are People

Duska’s intense and evocative poem of many people around us. There are people you don’t have to talk to understand them. You don’t have to see them regularly send them presents, or to think about them, but it makes you happy when without your permission, all of a sudden, from nowhere, not invited, they come […]

You Come

Duska sees the individual, the lover, in nature. She transcends the small self to seek truth in the greater self. You come seek shelter open your mouth but there’s no more you on the horizon you know you remain in all you’ve loved so there you are in every fruit growing together yoked by sunlight […]

When a Child Dies

A heart-wrenching poem by Duska. For Nikola When a child dies it’s wrong to weep every sob                                              and tear are far too loud for the womb it nestled in. when a child dies […]

Heavenly Things

Here’s a love poem by Duska that works at many levels, the sensuous, personal and the divine. On a dark veil of my confused night with your finger, like with a magic brush, you are painting white, drowsy lilies. Confused by your risen desire they mindlessly grow and outgrow the view of my shaded window. […]

Mystic Rains

A poignant poem of bitter-sweet love by Duska. I was picking red peonies with you last night by the muddy Bistrica river. From the sky were falling white petals on us from the hands of souls who haven’t found peace. From grass could be heard whisperings of ancient lovers, the sound of horsemen clatter was […]

Poets

Duska talks of the many sides of poets in an inward looking verse, seeking comradeship, at the close of the poem. Poets are a gang, pretending nomads, indecisive interpreters of banalities and eternity. They are useless seekers, intemperate lovers, hunters of lost words, the spies of roads and seas. Poets are vain gardeners     […]