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{P.L.O.T.S.} – Creatives Magazine


Creativity Is Humanities Algorithm

🌹✒️POETRYS – Melita Mely Ratković✒️🌹

Profession and cultural activity: Writer/poet/literary ambassador of Brazil and Serbia/participated in several world heritage anthologies. Dedicated to children’s literature.
Academic: AIAP: Academia Intercontinental Brasil, Academia de literatura música e arte Brazil,
Academia de Letras Guimarães Rosa – ALEGRO/ Academia Indipendete de Democrática De Escritor /Director of CIESART Spanish magazine for Serbia.


Music is inspirational poetry,
melodious tones of a violin string.
Touches to tears, when the soul hurts.
A powerful ally, a comforter.

Thoughts travel to the composer, how
felt while creating the work.
Tears are running down my face, I don’t want anyone
while the music is playing. Sorrow accumulates,

before a stormy storm, they tighten their breasts until
pain. I sit, listen, full of “charge,”
sobs make screams, thunder,
tender strings play, restless heart.

Medicinal notes bring pain.
My temple takes on a different shape.
It’s getting brighter, a ray of sunshine, a rainbow
reflection, peace, my song, thank you.

©️ Melita Mely Ratković

2.Be like Fenix

It’s not easy to watch
collapses in a moment what is
building, you doubt, you change
beliefs, you lie like a bird

fried wings, on the grill
memory. Everything you think
yes you are, it looks different
fire is a good servant, a bad master.

You surrender to suffering, to the scorched
illusions, you are torn apart by anger, hatred,
feeling powerless, you think about death
you are calling for the first time, expecting rescue.

Aždaja spews waterfalls, rejoices, enjoys.
Look how weak you are, that’s all
deceptive trap of the mind, you can lift it
rises from the ashes, more powerful, stronger, more beautiful.

©️ Melita Mely Ratković


In the deep ocean is my home.
It unites others, separates us. In the tomb
blue, voiceless, desperate, alone
my deep blue heart breaks.

The deafening cry of a seagull
on the horizon of memories,
the soul wanders, gets lost, disappears.
It’s late, a storm is brewing.

A lace veil made of sea foam,
Poseidon now has. In place, farewell
there is no more you, nor me. I paid
debt for a calm sea, your travels,

some new islands, conquests. It is a powerful force,
storms, shipwrecks, are a fear for sailors.
Sail calmly, travel with the seagulls,
if you want me, I will visit you in my dreams.

©️ Melita Mely Ratković

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