Elitists of all nations...

BOWIE???!!!

😢😢😢

MILENA BANJSKA

I started driving toward Mitrovica via the interstate
just passing by squatting kids, tractors, and trees weighed down by fruit
along with little girls with bare navels
eventually reaching the part of the country where my mother was born
and her mother too
even my sister was born there
where the doctor happened to be drunk
I spotted some American soldiers
they were hooking up
one of them was wearing bifocals
they’re quite small
maybe they send bigger ones to other locations
flags were hanging everywhere
but flags don't mean much to me—a flag is just a flag
I never joined the military, nor am I capable of it
I'm a massive coward, really
and I lie whenever I know better
the grass was such an intense green it almost stung
and the sky felt so close it could lull you into a sweet sleep in an empty field
so what does it matter if those heavily armed soldiers are hooking up there
then I saw a sign on the right side
it read "Banjska"
and that's when it hit me
my grandmother, my mother, my sister, the land, the cemetery, and the Ibar river
it all caught up to me right then, and it won't let go—it never will
because I remembered
it came back to me in the middle of the night
and I will never forget Banjska
because someone once said to Strahinjić, "Bane"
"Bane was in little Banjska"

Milena Markovic


There are few heroes like him
As they were to Strahinjić's Bane.

...Goethe paused, bewildered, before the final lines of Banović Strahinja in the William Gerhard translation; he was profoundly struck by their core message...

Awesome!😍

"Exquisite"—now that is a beautiful word. Honestly, I haven't heard anyone use it in ages.
Next time, be sure to say something just as lovely to me and my poet, alright?

Oh, absolutely! I have to!🙂
And don't even get me started on how some poets give such ridiculous interpretations of their own work?!😍
But this right here? This is spot on!👍

Well, yeah, that’s just how Milena is—she’d sooner rip her own tongue out than deal with being some pathetic, "poetic" cliché.

Ugh, tell me about it. It’s honestly so awkward trying to read your own deep, personal nonsense out loud!😁
It's way better if someone else does the talking!🥳

Shouldn't this be a discussion about the elitists?

What on earth possessed you to wander in here and drop your first couple of posts right out of the gate?🙏

It’s all a mystery, my friend—pure mystery... the elites have vanished into thin air, and OFF is strictly for the common folk🙂—and I mean the real bottom-of-the-barrel types from just across the border.

I got shut down because everything they label OFF, I consider ON.
But tell me, my friend, how can you even bring up the name of an elitist when there’s clearly nothing but pure elitism going on here..

You’ve seriously lost the plot here, friend—you're talking absolute nonsense. If your logic is that everything labeled OFF is just "off," then you should be able to see this for what it actually is: pure, unadulterated OFF elitism. Having Rastko Petrović on an American forum... now that would be something. 👏

One of my favorite literary critics—someone I was actually quite enamored with back in the day—wrote her entire doctorate based on his novel. This is getting way too personal for me, so honestly, just get lost.

That’s not fair... Why are you pushing me away?!🤔
I'm asking because I need to know... Once it clicks, I'll finally get where you're coming from.
Understanding is what Rastko values...

Alright, alright, let’s not have a meltdown just yet. I don't know where you came from or who sent you here in the first place.☕

Look, I didn't name the thread, and frankly, the title doesn't even matter. Sometimes I just hang out here—that’s really all there is to it.

Don't get hung up on the title; "elitism" is a totally relative concept. For instance, if you ask me, anything that possesses actual substance—rather than just being shallow, mindless content meant for instant consumption—is elite by today's standards.
The poets present here, who represent the absolute pinnacle of the language, have been elite cultural fixtures for a hundred years now. And, staying with my point about redefining things, the poems mentioned here qualify as elite content simply because they possess a very specific, profound depth.

Megan Chase43 said:Alright, alright, calm down. Don't start crying just yet. I have no idea who you work for or who sent you here.☕

I didn't pick the title, and frankly, the title doesn't matter. Sometimes I just hang out here, that's all.

Don't get hung up on the name. Elitism is a relative concept. To me, being "elite" today means anything that actually holds meaning, rather than just shallowly consuming content without purpose.
The poets present here, representing the absolute peak of the language, have been elite fixtures in American culture for a century. In the context of my argument about redefining what an "elite poem" is, the works mentioned here qualify because they possess deep, specific significance.

See? You can be reasonable when you want to. That’s the kind of elitism that comes from a noble spirit...
And for the record, nobody sent me. I showed up on my own. Right here, in this timeless oasis.

I agree with your posts, and those images you shared. It's worth it. Throwing away the conventions forced upon us by mediocre minds.

Alright, you flatterer—since you’re being so sweet, I suppose I’ll give you a little breakdown of the verse that kicks off this poem...

"Our ship sat off the coast of Jan Majen, just like it had before near Iceland, all day long. I grew to love that island because it was first sighted by a Dutch sailor—a man who had very little luck in his life—several hundred years ago. And when he finally returned to his homeland, he searched for that island three times over, again and again. But he never saw it again; he never found it."

(M. Crnjanski, Hyperborean, 1966.)

Consider this poem my gift to you for the "timeless oasis" (🤣) comment. And just so we're clear, I actually typed this out myself—I didn't just copy-paste some junk from the internet.

Trace

I want:
that after the dreams
no trace of me remains upon your body

That you carry away from me only
sorrow and white silk
and a gentle scent...

of paths covered in pale leaves
from the sycamores.

(M.C.)

Now, go on to Abu Dhabi. It was lovely having you visit, but go ahead and keep exploring the rest of the forum. 😉

Life among the Hyperboreans feels right to me—pure adventure...

As for what you said, just so we're clear, I typed those words myself; I didn't just breeze through them, and you're proving how steady you really are..

I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you, but I’m not walking away either...

Megan Chase43 said:It’s not about being consistent; it’s just that I actually had enough time to type out five whole lines.🙄
Abu Dhabi, you are a real pain in the ass. Did you even go to school today? Do your parents actually teach you how to talk to strangers online?

I know, I know... I'm a naive fool, but you're funny.
I’ve been thinking this for a while now. Honestly, just tell yourself to stop acting like an idiot. At least I can laugh at some random stranger.
Dammit, my own curiosity won't let me leave.

Keep typing if you want. I won't stop you. I'll be at the cemetery soon enough, so maybe I'll give you a wave when I pass by.
All I ever learned in school was this one thing: show some damn respect to people. Or maybe they just didn't teach that in the classroom.🤔

Oh, bless your heart. Honestly, when I first stumbled onto this forum, I was all politeness and decorum—I practically bowed to everyone. But after two years of coexisting with the various psychopaths lurking around here? Well, look what’s become of me. Take it or leave it, darling.
That’s why I occasionally retreat to my own little corner of the internet, where I’m the only resident psycho.
But fine, you sweet, naive thing—I’ll allow you to stick around and let yourself go, since you seem so hell-bent on it.

To be flawed and actually own up to it—that’s true consciousness. It gives you an edge over the people who are too slow to catch on.

I'm willing to take the risk of being here, because years slip by while days just drag on forever.
People need a spark of excitement to snap them out of their mindless daily grind.
So, if you write with enough passion, you'll feel a surge of power from above hitting us mere mortals, who so often forget that we don't have to spend our lives walking small beneath the stars...

"Happiness is a journey," or whatever someone once said.