Showing posts with label Stefan Bohdan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stefan Bohdan. Show all posts

Stefan Bohdan

Stefan Bohdan

Stefan Bohdan (Scott Lee Bogden) lives in Orlando, Florida USA. He is retired from the architectural/engineering/construction world. He now spends his time writing poems and novels. His English poems have been published in multiple books, anthologies, journals, newspapers, e-zines and translated into Persian (Farsi), Arabic, Urdu, Nepali, Hindi, Bengali, Estonian, French, Spanish, old Japanese, Dutch, Afrikaans, Turkish, Italian, Malayalam, Assamese, Tamil, Bosnian-Croatian-Serbian, Hebrew, Filipino, Hiligaynon, Kinaray-a, and Albanian. He also writes reviews for poetry books. He is internationally published and has collaborated with poets, translators and artists from around the world. He is the founder of Third Eye Butterfly Press. 

Stefan Bohdan was born in 1966 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, lived in Jamaica and Iran, and has traveled the world. He currently lives in Central Florida with his wife and dogs. He is the father of five adult children: three females and two males. He is also a grandfather.

Stefan has been a construction laborer, a land/road surveyor, an estimator, a manual draftsman, a CADD technician, a designer for state/national/international architectural and engineering and construction firms, a licensed building contractor, and has owned his own business designing custom homes. He has been a community college student who received his Associates in Arts degree (Seminole Community College) and is a university dropout: a former student of Computer Engineering (University of Central Florida).

An addiction, and the health and legal problems associated with it, ended his university scholarship and cost him employment with some of the largest architectural and engineering firms in the world. It also cost him an employment offer from NASA/Kennedy Space Center. Clean and sober since 2007, he reinvented himself as a poet. He currently works for a small engineering company as an electronics assembler (days) and as a poet and publisher (nights).

Stefan enjoys writing poetry and creating pencil and charcoal drawings, abstract paintings, Turkish limestone sculptures, and multiple-exposure photography using his Lubitel/USSR camera. He loves reading poetry, Russian literature and dystopian novels. He is currently learning Russian, Ukrainian, and Hindi and to play guitar.

For My Muse (2020), God’s Silence a Lion’s Roar (2018), and God’s Breath (2018) are his most recent published poetry books.

Stefan Bohdan can be found on his Amazon Author Page, Third Eye Butterfly Press website, Facebook pages, YouTube channel, and on Twitter, Instagram, and Linkedin.

Email: StefanBohdan@Yahoo.com.


Poems by Stefan Bohdan

Stefan Bohdan
Beyond Newton’s Apple Falling

Beyond Newton’s apple falling
the celestial mechanics of
the gears of the universe
turn the gears in my head
everything is connected
everything is one
falling toward the sun
falling through infinity
at the speed of light
still you do not understand
the gravity of my thoughts 

everything I see an equation
the infinite universe
reduced to strokes of white chalk
on my blackboard
theoretical physics
mathematical models
numbers predicting annihilation
everything easily erased
truth in numbers
Sir Isaac Newton surrounded by 
symbols of some of his greatest findings
Illustration © Copyright Jean-Leon Huens
National Geographic Stock

lost
in the geometry of a dream
looking for a sine
for X and Y variables unknown
for the square root of my madness
only finding irrational numbers
off on a tangent
my equation never-ending
a thing unsolvable
warping me
bending me
breaking me
driving me insane

call it genius or madness
but I never imagined 
your eyes didn’t see 
what my eyes see 
stars and man hanging
side by side
stars and man falling
like apples from a tree
stars and man falling
toward the center of it all

call it genius or madness
but I never imagined 
your eyes couldn’t see 
what my eyes see 
couldn’t see what lies beyond the clouds
couldn’t see what makes the world go round and round
couldn’t see God’s Creation ~
***


Unknown Artist
The Realm of God

In this dream 
more than a dream
where night and day 
forever exchange places
in the silence of stars distant
in a sea of fire
we fall side by side
just heavenly bodies
flying without wings
unaware
of planetary motion
of gravity
of falling through relativity
of being blind to
the infinitesimal place we occupy 
in infinity
in the realm of God
I am a man cursed
to feel  
to see
the cold vacuum of space
the linear crawling of time eternal
as relative motion
become geometry warped
become an ever-changing puzzle of
shadow and light
echoing across the six planes of
my loveless room become a black hole
where pictures hang like equations dead
the x variable
the cross I bear
thoughts too heavy 
for me to walk on water
drowning in my genius
alone and terrified
crowned in stars that blind
I weep
I pray
with wings broken
I reach for the sky 
for answers elegant 
for answers that do not exist 
I am
perpetually unable to comprehend
the realm of God ~
***


Unknown Artist
Sick Bird

Every morning
like a sick bird
I report to my cage
to do my time
in the spotlight
under the microscope
tattooed hands flutter
junking syringe after syringe
so I won’t get high
so I can’t fly
I’ve clipped
my long feathers short
so they won’t recognize me
won’t ask me to sing
so they can’t tempt me
can’t fix me
only haunt me
with their pinprick eyes,
bloodshot skin, and …
surgical steel mouths like bloodsucking proboscises
they remind me of heroin’s itch
of how I plunged from golden branch
on pale wings full of tiny holes
my bones and veins fallen
like a strung out star
through the eye of a dirty needle
my days turn to sleepless nights
spent alone, in this loveless nest
reading other poets’ words
I realize, my best is never good enough -
the genius in my head bores me
I withdrawal from reality
fall asleep into dream
become clean
ice-cold diaphoresis
my pleasure and pain
like a sunrise
after one thousand years of darkness
there is still hope
but I am blind to it
don’t look at me
even my shadow looks like shit
better tell her I love her before it’s too late
before I overdose
before I’ve killed myself
one last prayer
to a deaf God ~
***


JACOB WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL
Copyright © Michal Kwarciak
Only One Star in Heaven

She is
that narcotic pull
and push
stronger than gravity
lighter than air
pleasure and pain
in the same vein
her veiled name
driving me insane

She is
impossible to kick
to get a grip of
like wrestling with an archangel
she leaves me bruised and broken
out of joint
searching for my lost halo

Again
I have fallen for her lies
for her round poppy eyes
for these heavenly spheres
my prayers abandoned
for a holey habit
for a bloody sacrament

Like an epileptic seizure I cannot shake
I am addicted to this luminous angel
a cross I bear infinite and eternal
like two white stones cast into dream
my blind eyes see
visions of her
my blind eyes see
only one star in heaven ~
***


The Poet in the Flames of First Love
Painting © Copyright Henry John Stock
Poet Deranged

If I could I would
bend space and time
return us to that point
where we first met
so we could start over
so I could say and do everything differently
maybe you would still be mine
maybe I would still be sane
instead of this poet deranged 
forever searching for you
never finding you
in every subatomic particle swirling
in every blooming flower dancing
in every woman’s eyes beautiful
in every cloud transfigured
in every star illuminating heaven
I am poet deranged
forever searching for you
never finding you
in every word of every sacred poem 
in every lyric of every love song 
in every note of every heavenly instrument
on every page of every holy book
I can find God but I cannot find my angel
my heart my hell
eternal I burn 
in the flames of my love for you
I am poet deranged
forever searching for you
never finding you ~
***

Poetry: Stefan Bohdan

Stefan Bohdan
The Fire of Love

 

If I could I would …

 

reach up into the night sky

rearrange the stars with a poetic hand

until it is written in fire on the vault of heaven

that you are mine

and I am yours

until the end of time.

 

If it were allowed in your land …

 

for west to pursue east

and east to pursue west

we would chase each other’s hearts

around the fire of love

until I catch you

and you catch me

orange sparks winged glow and swirl

ignite the black night bright.

 

In my dream undying …

 

inside a stone temple carved for our love

 

twin flames naked burn

on a bed of rose petals spread

a god’s goddess unveiled

from ringed toes and ringed nose to vermilion head

stripped down to nothing but tradition’s scars

her old gold and silken threads red

an offering at the foot of my bed

two arranged into one flesh

a beautiful thing a violent thing

our lovemaking a sacred dream

in a field of yellow flowers blooming

under the fiery stars of her ancestors

the prayer wheels spin and sing

ancient mantras that repeat like snowy mountains

ancient mantras that echo of our wedding song:

The Fire of Love ~

***

Stefan Bohdan lives in Orlando, Florida USA. He is retired from the architectural/engineering/construction world. He now spends his time writing poems and novels. His English poems have been published in multiple books, anthologies, journals, newspapers, e-zines and translated into Persian (Farsi), Arabic, Urdu, Nepali, Hindi, Bengali, Estonian, French, Spanish, old Japanese, Dutch, Afrikaans, Turkish, Italian, Malayalam, Assamese, Tamil, Bosnian-Croatian-Serbian, Hebrew, Filipino, Hiligaynon and Kinaray-a. He also writes reviews for poetry books. He is internationally published and has collaborated with poets, translators and artists from around the world. He is the founder of Third Eye Butterfly Press.