Saturday 28 February 2015

Do you think i should go back in time, Jack ?

She lit a fag. She stubbed it out. ''This awful habit has to stop'', she thought. The wind was blowing through the fireplace and the old lamp reflected the same ill, deep yellow color, in the room. Sitting on the leather couch, alone with her thoughts, she was waiting for ''Her''. The muse with the darkest eyes...

She couldn't wait long, the anger in her chest was like a burning fire, and the feeling of something is totally wrong again, couldn't let her sleep that very night. Not even the bird was singing, the small little bird on the tree outside her window, who sings almost every time when the sun goes to sleep. Pure silence disturbed by the noise of the electricity of the lamp. It was and old one, with black stones and a cream hat, that reflected the illness in the room. She hated it.'' Time to get rid of this'' , she thought.
It was time to get rid of many things, not only the old lamp, and she knew it. She knew it very well.

Her only friend was missing, and the distance between them was longer than ever before.
She pretended to have him there with her, sitting by the fire with his guitar on his laps. She stared at him for a while. The ring on his finger, the amulets on his wrist... His bittersweet dark brown eyes, illuminated sympathy and compassion and a scent of the most sweet melancholy which only a true artist can have.

''Do you think i should go back in time Jack''? she asked him loudly, so loud that all the neighbours might have been awaken from their dreams.
''There are some moments in life that happen only once'' , ''his guitar gently weeped'' and he disappeared.

His presence took her anger away, filled her burning chest with pure love, and the melodies of his guitar took her back in time...
Back to the park, near the railway, with the wooden jetty in the lake and the eucalyptus trees. She didn't want to go over the hills and sit on the bench this time, neither to walk up until the small church. She didn't even want to drink fresh lemonade on the terrace of the haunt and enjoy the view of the old stable -full of flowers- yard surrounded by the cypress. She sat on the jetty, she fed the ducks and she came back.

''I will paint the walls, and definitely throw this lamp away'', she thought. But deep inside she knew that she wasn't going to stay long at this place. In a constant searching of a home, maybe tomorrow she will find the way.


To be continued




Tuesday 24 February 2015

Αναπνέεις ;

-Αναπνέεις ;
Κλεισμένος στη γυάλα  
δυό μάτια μεγάλα 
ψάχνουν ουρανό 

Σου είπα 
το βράδυ μη βγαίνεις μονάχος 
είναι επικίνδυνα εδώ 

''Βασανίζομαι'' στη γωνία 
και εκεί και εδώ 
σε κάθε γιόμα 
για κάθε πιώμα 
στης αυγής το στάξιμο θα πάω να πλυθώ 


-Αναπνέω ξύπνιος 
μέσα στα όνειρα άλλων
ξεθωριασμένος στίχος
σε τοίχο μάλλον 








Wednesday 18 February 2015

Κοννέξιο βαθύ

Εγώ ήθελα λάδι μονάχα από σένα
γιατί έχουμε κοννέξιο βαθύ 
μπορώ να δω αγάπη μέσα σ'ένα σου βλέμμα 
σε αγαπάω πολύ απο μικρή 

Και αν ποτέ δεν μου δοθεί η ευκαιρία 
γιατί ξέρω είμαστε κι άνθρωποι κλειστοί 
ένα ποτήρι στην υγεία σου με λατρεία 
κι ένα ζεστό γλυκό φιλί 

Υγεία και αγάπη μόνο στην καρδιά σου 
κι ένα καλοκαίρι που προσμένω να 'ρθει 
να χωθώ σα μωρό στην αγκαλιά σου 
να γεμίσουν χρώμα οι ουρανοί.


Θα τελειώσω αυτό που άρχισα κι έπειτα θα αρχίσω να ζω

Γεννιέσαι και μεγάλωνεις
κάπου στις αρχές ανακαλύπτουν το ''είναι'' σου 
πριν καν μάθεις να αρθώνεις - νερό.
Μεγαλώνεις. 
Μουσικές και χρώματα, 
ουράνια τόξα στο δωμάτειό σου 
και προχωράς, 
σε μπλε γραμμές τετραδίου.
Βρίσκεις έναν βράχο και κάθεσαι.
Σαν τον Ξέρξη παρακολουθείς τη ναυμαχία.
Σε πιάνει αηδία από το αίμα και λες να αλλάξεις θέση.
Σηκώνεσαι 
και προχωράς ,
για κάποιο λόγο βρίσκεσαι σε μάχη ξανά.

Μα να που το ουράνιο τόξο, δεν έχει τελικά ξεθωριάσει!

Και να που φέτος έμαθες το ''πάω αργά γιατί βιάζομαι''!

Θα τελειώσω αυτό που άρχισα 
κι έπειτα θα αρχίσω να ζω .



Monday 16 February 2015

Holy love

Hand to hand
walking the path of life
with fire and light
two brains as one


Our hearts  rhythm
is angels hymns
this love is holy
like the spirit of God


With heart and brain
warriors and brave
with kindness and respect
a Russel's set



no other halves

neither soul mates

one plus one equals two

but you are me and me is you


Wednesday 11 February 2015

Oh! my dear diary ,

Here we are again.
Its been ages since i last wrote to you ...
Loads of things have changed. 
Now the dawns are purple 
and all the pink clouds turn into acid rain,
now the days just pass 
and the nights seem endless,
the sky is always grey despite the sun.
I found a shelter though! 
Α real one this time.. 
-not flying beds in dream scenes- 
a magical place, near the sea 
with Victorian houses on the hill, 
a small casino and a fun fair!
Α place i call ''Sunday'',
where you can feel the scent of an era very much forgotten.
Every time i feel this awful something nothing, i go there with a friend...
We love to stay in the small cafe and eat ice-cream in winter days.
Sometimes we walk around the neighborhood
and imagine we own the small flat in the corner of the street...
It's nice.
Nothing else. 
Nothing special. 
Only beautiful sceneries that make the everyday life a bit brighter. 
Gothic churches and big trees the road to university 
and kind smiley faces there to warm your soul with a ''hello''.
Now i'm flirting with Hobbes again , with Kant , Rousseau and Schmidt
and i keep asking myself of what is right and what is wrong, 
what's ethical and if there is a universally accepted moral value...
I try to tell them that democracy does not exist, is an illusion like Kain's ideas. 
It's like liberty with all these cameras watching you ...
but i can't .
You see, the freedom of choice is always limited and always related to power 
and for the time being i'm powerless to speak my mind,
abiding by their norms, my voice's craving to be heard. 
Oh! my dear diary, 
now the dawns are purple, 
the nights are endless thoughts 
and the only thing missing once again..
is feeling loved .











Tuesday 10 February 2015

I wish


I wish i would have written all my favorite love poems 
all these words that make my heart melt 
all my thoughts swirling into a circle 
 now my fingers are cold 
no ink can turn my feelings into a poem 


Sitting by the fire 
no candles anymore 
no happy melodies neither sad songs
silence


Trying to feel my mind 
Longing to feel your lips 
  Yearning for your sweet and tender love 
'' I wish you were here''





Monday 9 February 2015

Το δέκα το καλό

Ήθελα να σου πω 
να προσέχεις τον αέρα όταν φυσσάει τα φυλλώματα
Σεπτέμβρη μήνα 
και να βολτάρουμε Αθήνα καλοκαίρι 

Ήθελα να σου πιάσω το χέρι και να πάμε βόλτα στη θάλασσα 
να δουμε τ' αστέρια να πέφτουν βροχή 
μα δεν πρόλαβα 


Μέρες σαν ετούτες 
η καρδιά θέλει 
η λογική νοσεί 
είναι που δεν πρόλαβα ...

Ήθελα να είσαι για μένα 
να είμαι για σένα 
μα λένε πως ο έρωτας είναι για έναν μονάχα 
τώρα το ξέρω καλά 

Κι ίσως ανταμωθούμε ξανά 
και ακούσουμε ξανά τα ίδια βινύλια 
ίσως τότε η μοίρα να μας έχει φυλλάξει 
το δέκα το καλό 
ίσως και όχι 
δεν ξέρω 
μα τούτη τη φορά
θα προλάβω 

Tuesday 3 February 2015

Ξόρκι

Την πύλη θ'ανοίξω
το φως ν'αντιρκρίσω
το λευκό της ψυχής
τα αστέρια θα φτάσω
τα μάγια να σπάσω
στο μωβ της αυγής



Κέντημα χρυσόδετο
και καλοφορεμμένο
μία σταγόνα θάλασσα
κι ένα καιρί σβησμένο
δύο φτερά του έρωτα
και ένα σακί αγάπη
τριάντα μαύρα κέρατα
και αίμα απο τ'αδράχτι



Ξορκίζω τώρα το κακό
το μαυροφορένο
με κέντημα χρυσόδετο
κι ένα φιλί σβησμένο

Ξορκίζω τώρα το κακό
με ένα σακί αγάπη
με μιά σταγόνα θάλασσα
κι αίμα απ'ταδράχτι