Maja Herman Sekulić is a distinctive voice in contemporary poetry, known for blending intellectual depth with emotional intensity. Her work often bridges cultures, languages, and philosophical traditions, reflecting her background between Eastern Europe and the United States.Sekulić’s poetry is deeply reflective, exploring themes such as identity, exile, memory, love, and the search for meaning in a fragmented world. Her writing frequently carries a meditative tone, influenced by philosophy, art, and spirituality. She has a unique ability to merge personal experience with universal ideas, making her poems both intimate and expansive.
Stylistically, her poems are rich in imagery and layered with symbolism. She often experiments with form and voice, creating a lyrical yet thought-provoking rhythm. Her language can shift from delicate and introspective to bold and intellectually charged, inviting readers to engage both emotionally and intellectually.
 |
| Maja Herman Sekulic |
In addition to poetry, Sekulić is also a respected literary critic and essayist, which adds a sharp analytical edge to her creative work. This dual role enhances her poetry, giving it both artistic beauty and conceptual depth.
Overall, Maja Herman Sekulić’s poetry stands out for its cross-cultural richness and philosophical insight, offering readers a profound journey into the complexities of the human experience.
In memoriam 7.3. MILOSH SEKULICH Maja Herman Sekulic
March is the cruelest month
For me, I just realized
Beware the Ides of March!
The death row laid before me
Day after day
In memoriam
Death after death
The beloved ones
Moma, Milena, Relja
And my Misko -
The beloved one
That is how we call the dead
The departed
For a while
Gone
But then they re-enter
Our mind
We see them everywhere
They are present in our dreams
In our thoughts
They wait for us in a mirror
In a candle flame
Or in the heavy rain
Or in a glass
In a song they sang
Or a color they disliked
In a book they underlined
Or in a taste of steak tartar
Or the perfume they left behind
Or in the salt of the ocean
Or this special taste under our tongue
Or the phrase they repeated
Or the joy in their eyes
They are everywhere in us
And we are the gone ones!
Reason for the Rain
There was all this talk about Botticelli.
There was all this wine in our veins.
There was all this rain.
And all those people coming and going
Through my brain
Dancing on the ferry to another shore
Changes of scenery, of geography
Changes of heart
And there was this wall between words,
Erected with pain.
Will this rain ever stop?
Will the summertime
Open a window
And let the sun shine
From inside
Through my eyes again
After all these years
Of waltzing all alone
All by myself
Amidst the crowds?
Notes toward a Ballad
The August sun is intense, I undress
On the beach, sand in my toes
I hold sunrays in my hair.
I take refuge in a café
On the nameless street
Tired of the heat
White wine goes green in my glass
Sun still fire in the sky.
No shade, no break,
His eyes dance on me,
They burn my skin
I accept the figs he gives me
They are too soft.
The coffee is too strong.
And the sun doesn’t give up.
And he does not give up.
And now I lie awake pretending
That he lies awake
And that the whole world is awake
As we were then
In that summer heat
In that café
Without a break.
The Grand Plan
The train moves on
from the Penn station
it takes me to Princeton
over and over again
Ivy league that is the plan
what is the plan
love, love is the plan
l knew three American Poet Laureates
personally
two of them loved me but
it is not the grand plan
I will write one day
as soon as I resolve
enigma of the ducks
swimming with new ducklings
in my fountain
every spring
every early spring
in the city
love
is the only plan
