Maria Miraglia

Maria Miraglia



Maria Miraglia is an Italian Poetess, thanks to the modern technology I had the opportunity to go through her poems, and I was deeply impressed by her thoughts, the sensitive nature of her personality, and the style she puts the shining beads of words on the string. She has her own peculiar technique to articulate her spirited thoughts so forcefully and vehemently to astonish the reader that then for a while he stops to measures its profundity. In her poems Maria exhibited at large the colors of her thoughts very efficiently. The very first poem , Words is very striking, words hover around her like butterflies and she has to make selection of the butterflies for her roses (poems). Some are captured in cages of her pages and the other fly away and, at a distance, they assume the shape of stars. This is a very thrilling imagery never seen in the books of literature I have read so far:


a few stay on my page caged

the others are there outside

gleaming stars dust

to fill the night air

of secret

messages of things unsaid.

Maria seams to be a master in depicting deep pensive and gloomy state of mind which is an essential part of human life and it can’t be refuted; she feels gloomy on seeing trees dresses when autumn approaches, birds fly away in search of warm climate and, on the other hand, an old man passes through the nude nature, engrossed in memories of the past and moves slowly to the uncertain future. She again creates a very beautiful image overwhelmed with dejection. Maria is a very sensitive poetess, the changing weathers, mornings and evenings, stars and sky, people moving in the street, darkness and light, all objects affect her poetic mood. She takes raw material of her poetry from the world that exists around her, then she like an artist moulds it into a splendid and significant piece of poesy. When we go through the lines, her inner being gradually reveals to us and each reading discloses a new aspect of her persona. She may be regarded a bud or rose, the tender and delicate convulsion of her inner existence blossoms with each gentle gust of the breeze. Maria also writes splendid poems on love, her emotions gurgle smoothly from her heart, she is not callous to those who love her, being a poetess she feels their pangs and restlessness of their souls. She regards love as the most essential sentiment of life:

Write for me a love poem

when the moon

her maids calls to stud

with shining pearls

the dark dome

Write for me a love poem

when the winds gently move the treetops

playing romantic serenades Pakistan

Write for me words of love

when the waves like joyful children

each other chase.

Maria is a poetess from the world, she embraces life as it exists, with it all pain and pleasures, and believes that love is the only sentiment that can enrich its value, I refer to her poem “Your Guardian Angel” which has been written in high serious mood, though it expresses the emotion of love yet divine purity of emotions and tenderness of thought prevail from beginning to the end. The whole poem is a gem of poesy and a valuable addition in the treasure of literature. In “Martyrs Of Human Foolishness” the poetess condemns violence, killing, carnage and bloodshed and she longs for peace in the world. Much has been written on the merciless assassination and brutal act of the terrorists at the Army Public School Peshawar (Pakistan) that happened on 16th December 2014, but as far as I know she is the first international poet who responded to the event and wrote the most splendid poem in English, after the colossal loss of Pakistani school children, I found it on the very next day, on the Italian website She very effectively assimilated in the poem the magnitude of pain; the very first lines are the most pathetic as well as shocking and the reader shudders at the most brutal deed:

Light lamps and candles

to show the way

to the Pakistani children

so they can as a flock of birds

fly to the Heaven.

Maria’s each poem individually is an ocean, only the daring reader may dive deep to bring out shining pearls of multifarious nature. Much can be said about her and her poetry, I hope that her poetry will attract the readers as well as the literary critics to probe her poetic soul. She is the master of imagery, the diction she has used is poetic and it has enhanced its splendor, new similes and metaphors make her poetry graceful. I regard her collection of poetry as a precious addition in the world’s poetry. May her poetic talent flourish more and more in the coming years. Muhammad Shanazar Pakistan Poet of Universal Inspiration


Crystal glasses on the tables
and bundles of roses
guests, elegantly dressed
chat smiling
while from a grand piano
softly comes the sound
of romantic melodies

You there
silent sitting
your eyes
once of a light blue
now like the twilight colors
of an autumn eve
staring in the void
Your lonely soul
crosses space and time
from present to eternity
dreaming the winds
take you up to her
the clouds open a way through
birds point the way
up to the gates of heaven
And you can
once again
lay your lips on hers
and softly touch
her ethereal face
still so much loved.
By Maria Miraglia



Light lamps and candles
to show the way
to the Pakistani children
so they can fly to the Heaven
as a flock of birds
Gather around their mothers
to share their pains and sorrows
they will keep close
till the end of their days
bent on their wombs
once shelters of the tender lives
The sky darkened
women and men on earth
in holy silence
for the massacre and the horror
could sense the fear
of the little martyrs
of the human foolishness
hear their cries
imagine the violated bodies
the tears of their mothers
their eternal mourning
in the name of a god
nobody knows
in the name of hate and revenge
The angels vigorously
flapping their wings
in disapproval
ask men to join
and shout loud
their outrage and indignation
May the sky open
move the mountains
open the oceans
fall the rain in torrents
ring the bells from everywhere
to awaken men
to peace and brotherhood
By Maria Miraglia



A cigarette lighted
in the dark and
the memories of
some others smoked
A puff after puff
and I let me go
looking at the circles
of smoke rising up
in the evening air
to soon after vanish away
Not the memories
flowing in the mind
fresh and clear
as the waters
of a mountain stream
albeit distant
in space and time
Faces of beloved
their shapes
their pleased glances
are there with me
And smiles
sometimes sad
sometimes sweet
appear on my face
in the silence of
the quiet night
And I feel the then emotions
and can hear
as from a distant echo
the exchanged words
everything returning
as the sequences
of an old movie
I thought forgotten.


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