Δυόμιση μέρες μάτωνε
και έτρεμαν τα χέρια και τα πόδια.
Νερό δεν είχε για να πιεί
μήτε φαί να φάει.
Περπάταγε μερόνυχτα βουνά λαγκάδια
και προσευχόταν,
σε εναν θεό, που θεό δεν έχει.
Θνητός αθάνατος.
Πόσοι άραγε θα πνιγούν μεθαύριο
και ποιος θα ναι ο επόμενος στόχος ..
Saturday, 16 April 2016
#diarynotes
Η σκέψη μου ξεπέρασε το σύνορο του χάρτη
σαν ζωγραφιά μικρού παιδιού
το χρώμα έξω απ΄τις γραμμές.
Μες στο κουτί, κουτί μου ξύλινο
προσπαθώ να σε κάψω.
Δέκα κι ένα παραμύθια θα ξεθάψω
θα γράψω ένα ακόμη
και θα τ'αφιερώσω στη μικρή.
Συνειρμοί και τίποτα ουσιαστικό που θέλω να πω.
Λίγο από τον πληρωμένο χρόνο μου να σου χαρίσω.
Ήταν η μέρα εικοσιδύο του Μάρτη που είχα πεθάνει ένα χρόνο ήδη.
Και κοίτα τώρα, περάσαν δυο χρόνια και είμαι εδώ.
Να μου πληρώνουν το χρόνο που σου γράφω τραγούδια.
Tuesday, 22 March 2016
Νόστος, Άλγος
Νόστος το άλγος
πορτόφυλλα διπλοσφραγισμένα.
Άλγος ο νόστος
ζωή σιγή, λυγμού κραυγή.
Όσα κι αν πιάσω άστρα
ο ουρανός μου αδειανός ζητά ανάσα
φωτός χρυσού κι αρμύρας
δρόμων ανοιχτών να περνούν ελεύθερα τα όνειρα.
Το φεγγάρι θρηνεί το χαμό
οδοιπόρων μιας νύχτας θαλασσοπνιγμένης,
ψυχών που στοιχειώνουν σύνορα,
πέτρες κι ατσάλι.
Όσα κι αν πιάσω άστρα, το φεγγάρι θα θρηνεί.
πορτόφυλλα διπλοσφραγισμένα.
Άλγος ο νόστος
ζωή σιγή, λυγμού κραυγή.
Όσα κι αν πιάσω άστρα
ο ουρανός μου αδειανός ζητά ανάσα
φωτός χρυσού κι αρμύρας
δρόμων ανοιχτών να περνούν ελεύθερα τα όνειρα.
Το φεγγάρι θρηνεί το χαμό
οδοιπόρων μιας νύχτας θαλασσοπνιγμένης,
ψυχών που στοιχειώνουν σύνορα,
πέτρες κι ατσάλι.
Όσα κι αν πιάσω άστρα, το φεγγάρι θα θρηνεί.
Wednesday, 2 March 2016
Last year she found hope
One year ago
October
She woke up, got dressed in her nice black suit and left the house holding a cup of coffee. She entered the door looking straight ahead, walking down the aisle steady, not fast. She went upstairs and entered the room. Fist class in the masters degree. She met ''India'' and a lad. She chose a sit, took her fancy notepad out and her pen and briefly engaged into a political conversation.
People were popping into the classroom like mushrooms, happy ones, introduced themselves, shacked hands with each other picked a sit and wait. The whole class was gathered and the first activity form the lecturer was to guess who is the other person sitting next to us in the room. What was the previous studies background, where they come form and such.. She was the quiet one from Spain. Except she wasn't. Neither the other girl had studied management. No one was what the others perceived. First lesson learnt. you are not what other people think you are. First impressions are wrong. And what if we had a blind classmate? .. Never judge the others by appearance and you can never know who the other person is until you ask him.
She went back home, and she studied ''us and them'', She found Pink Floyd in Hemington's description. cultural differences, multicultural interaction in the post modern society and history of civilisations made her realise that she wasn't the odd girl anymore. She wasn't different form anyone else, and her olive skin wasn't an issue.
November
The time was passing quit pleasant with the mates in the pub every Monday evening, with lots of philosophical, political and cultural discussions, loads of laughter and fun, connecting with each other engaging into the social life and making potential life friends.
The first time for presentation had come. Unable to speak, her hands were shaking and her stomach was aching, scared and breathless she left the room to breath. The essay she was writing about the just war accelerate her mind, with so much velocity than never before. She started thinking and thinking and the days were passing and she was wandering if there is any case in, the end of the day, that a war can ever be justified. She was asking friends and classmates about their opinion and it was the topic she was starting a conversation every time in those days, Second lesson learnt. Breathing properly takes anxiety away and let you flourish. You found the answers in the books. Acceleration of mind is stimulation of the senses.
December
Solitary thoughts made her feeling lost into thousands notes, lost into translations et al, 2014. It was the time she wrote '' Every thought creates a feeling, every feeling creates a thought. Words are gift he said once words are gift or maybe not''. The rain was purring and the absence of her loved ones made the grey sky seemed as black whole, a wrap she was into, swirling into circles, lost in nostalgia. Third lesson learnt. Create from loneliness, turn your sadness into art. Study is a solitary activity.
Happy new year.
January
Time is not existing. Its an illusion like political arguments lost in never land.
She was wondering how is it possible to use references and others arguments to support our point of view while we are not having the right to write a personal thought without justification. And why a justification of an argument is giving validation to our point of view. Lesson learnt. You need peers to be heard. You need to find those with the same ideas and opinions and a similar perspective. Referencing academic styles help us support our view and validate our thinking.
No more Mondays in the pub though. Her colleagues were going to clubs enjoying the Liverpudlian night life which is full of colour, laugh and happy people enjoying there time.
She was going to a different pub engaging with the locals, interacting and communicating with older people who live in the area for all their lives. She learnt Scouse, and how to playing pool and darts. -Oh! How she love darts- She also learnt that education makes you a productive part of the society and helps you develop skills like, observation, communication, self reflect and thinking- not only out of the box but in a whole different dimension which helps you empower yourself.
Months were passing chasing deadlines and that's how she's missing three moths. They are lost somewhere between essay writing and attendance.
March
She learnt that life is a blink of an eye a flashing light like a falling commet. We are nothing and everything at the same time.
She was walking in the fields when she saw a butterfly she was flying so high as if she was a star, She came close to her and told her come lets travel far, She touched her with her wings -so beautiful and fragile, she gave her a smile and a heavy spar. You need them both she told her, if we are going to see the word, the first is for the kindness, the second for the world. With courage heart and brain, a butterfly she became and with her new friend she'll fly until the end. Lesson lernt: Be there for the others in a hour of need it doesn't cost anything. This is how you really connect with someone. Empathy.
Findings:
October
She woke up, got dressed in her nice black suit and left the house holding a cup of coffee. She entered the door looking straight ahead, walking down the aisle steady, not fast. She went upstairs and entered the room. Fist class in the masters degree. She met ''India'' and a lad. She chose a sit, took her fancy notepad out and her pen and briefly engaged into a political conversation.
People were popping into the classroom like mushrooms, happy ones, introduced themselves, shacked hands with each other picked a sit and wait. The whole class was gathered and the first activity form the lecturer was to guess who is the other person sitting next to us in the room. What was the previous studies background, where they come form and such.. She was the quiet one from Spain. Except she wasn't. Neither the other girl had studied management. No one was what the others perceived. First lesson learnt. you are not what other people think you are. First impressions are wrong. And what if we had a blind classmate? .. Never judge the others by appearance and you can never know who the other person is until you ask him.
She went back home, and she studied ''us and them'', She found Pink Floyd in Hemington's description. cultural differences, multicultural interaction in the post modern society and history of civilisations made her realise that she wasn't the odd girl anymore. She wasn't different form anyone else, and her olive skin wasn't an issue.
November
The time was passing quit pleasant with the mates in the pub every Monday evening, with lots of philosophical, political and cultural discussions, loads of laughter and fun, connecting with each other engaging into the social life and making potential life friends.
The first time for presentation had come. Unable to speak, her hands were shaking and her stomach was aching, scared and breathless she left the room to breath. The essay she was writing about the just war accelerate her mind, with so much velocity than never before. She started thinking and thinking and the days were passing and she was wandering if there is any case in, the end of the day, that a war can ever be justified. She was asking friends and classmates about their opinion and it was the topic she was starting a conversation every time in those days, Second lesson learnt. Breathing properly takes anxiety away and let you flourish. You found the answers in the books. Acceleration of mind is stimulation of the senses.
December
Solitary thoughts made her feeling lost into thousands notes, lost into translations et al, 2014. It was the time she wrote '' Every thought creates a feeling, every feeling creates a thought. Words are gift he said once words are gift or maybe not''. The rain was purring and the absence of her loved ones made the grey sky seemed as black whole, a wrap she was into, swirling into circles, lost in nostalgia. Third lesson learnt. Create from loneliness, turn your sadness into art. Study is a solitary activity.
Happy new year.
January
Time is not existing. Its an illusion like political arguments lost in never land.
She was wondering how is it possible to use references and others arguments to support our point of view while we are not having the right to write a personal thought without justification. And why a justification of an argument is giving validation to our point of view. Lesson learnt. You need peers to be heard. You need to find those with the same ideas and opinions and a similar perspective. Referencing academic styles help us support our view and validate our thinking.
No more Mondays in the pub though. Her colleagues were going to clubs enjoying the Liverpudlian night life which is full of colour, laugh and happy people enjoying there time.
She was going to a different pub engaging with the locals, interacting and communicating with older people who live in the area for all their lives. She learnt Scouse, and how to playing pool and darts. -Oh! How she love darts- She also learnt that education makes you a productive part of the society and helps you develop skills like, observation, communication, self reflect and thinking- not only out of the box but in a whole different dimension which helps you empower yourself.
Months were passing chasing deadlines and that's how she's missing three moths. They are lost somewhere between essay writing and attendance.
March
She learnt that life is a blink of an eye a flashing light like a falling commet. We are nothing and everything at the same time.
She was walking in the fields when she saw a butterfly she was flying so high as if she was a star, She came close to her and told her come lets travel far, She touched her with her wings -so beautiful and fragile, she gave her a smile and a heavy spar. You need them both she told her, if we are going to see the word, the first is for the kindness, the second for the world. With courage heart and brain, a butterfly she became and with her new friend she'll fly until the end. Lesson lernt: Be there for the others in a hour of need it doesn't cost anything. This is how you really connect with someone. Empathy.
Findings:
- People who enter the academia come from different backgrounds and are called to interact with each other into a ground rules basis given from the authorities of the academic institution.
- Education makes you an observer, broadens you mind and your way of thinking, makes you more efficient in communication, improving skills such as empathy, embracing diversity and appreciating the human dignity.
- Improvement of intellectual skills, can lead to a recompose of the character of the human being and transform him into an active, motivated, productive member of the society.
- The above is not related to entering the job markets, which is something of course of a high importance, but refers to a personal transformation of the young people in order to help them discover multiple possibilities of activities in the society for them to feel included and appreciated.
Monday, 22 February 2016
Thursday, 18 February 2016
Curriculum Vitae
Name: Generation Y
Address: All around the world
Tel: iphone (the new one), android (whatever)
email: whereisourfuture.com
PERSONAL STATEMENT
Effective in communication -afraid of public speaking-
good at problem solving, with the ability to turn gray into pink, with excellent skills in proof reading and writing -all those years at uni at least payed off- able to work as a part of a team -prefer to work alone and get your job done- Kind. With excellent manners
-passive aggressive, exactly what you need-
EDUCATION
- University of Here and There all around, the best university, the one with the higher rankings. BA in science, sociology, arts and humanities, economics and of course Politics.
- And Master in everything passed with distinction, from another university somewhere .
- PHD, McPhill, and all the qualifications needed to become.
JOB EXPERIENCE
- A little bit of this, a little bit of that alongside the studies, waitress, barman and pr, helped to develop communication skills and gain a bit of Independence by helping the parents in the household expenses.
- Volunteering and internship and customer service helped develop experience in working in a busy office environment, leading a team and get to know how the things work.
SKILLS AND INTERESTS
Excellent in office, java, social media analysis, marketing and sales, with accountancy skills and fluent speaker of all the languages included Japanese. Also good in painting, writing, with a creative side and a passion for life, attending drama and acting courses, going to gym doing yoga and swimming, volunteering in various organisations and art workshops. Positive and more than everything self motivated.
Only self motivated because:
I am 25, almost 30, mid 30, early 40 but especially almost 30 and I am in deep depression.
In deep depression because I feel useless. I feel useless because I still live with my parents
who they still support me from their pension - if they are get it anyways-
I am useless because every time I open my inbox I read that I am unsuccessful this time. Again.
I feel useless because I can't move on with my life if i don't have a job. And i don't have a job. That is why I am self motivated, because even if i can't live as an adult I am supposed to be, I try to escape this prolonged puberty I'm living, by trying to do something useful. That's why my skills and interests section of the cv is full, because I go out and do whatever so as to forget my misery. Attending seminars and more seminars, and trainings and i get involved with the local community centres to feel included and productive and develop more. But mostly to forget my misery.
And I am wandering why am I into this situation without being able to pay bills, to support my living expenses, to feed my child and to buy the pills for my sick parents. Why i cant tell you the truth about me so as to give me the proper job i need for my self to develop and be productive and instead i have to write one million bullshi*t on my cv and being unsuccessful at the same time.
Allow me to tell you that,
I don't want to live on the state's benefit, I think the benefits are for those who really need them, all the vulnerable people who can't find job, but i am one of them and i am eligible to take so why not to. Because I want to work. I want to work and you don't give me the chance.
You make me a lazy scum sitting around youtube and facebook, playing video games and listening to the old songs all the time, eating crisps and watching netflix, drinking pints inhaling my big orange bong waiting for the summer.
But I want to work.
I might moan form a high level as you may think and as I was accused for in the past but I really don't mind. All I want is a job, to pay my bills. And yes life is only that.
Because if you cant support first yourself how you are going to support others?
Wednesday, 17 February 2016
Trying to rhyme
Two years I am wandering
roads -rivers, clouds and lakes.
Felt lost and kind of tottering
I am counting mistakes
(Trying to rhyme,
to write in rhythm
but how to listen to it when silent prevails?
oh no again I'm rhyming talking about the veils ...)
Fed up with almost everything,
so angry in despair.
Smoke, alcohol and peppermint
are blending in the air.
I am not a poet baby.
Never was I one.
I'm flirting with eternity.
I' m coming from the sun.
A rollercoster up and down
life is, will be and was.
Life is a clown baby,
laughter in camouflage.
Two years I am wandering
the rest are now erased
Never give up wondering.
The dream you never chased,
go find it today.
roads -rivers, clouds and lakes.
Felt lost and kind of tottering
I am counting mistakes
(Trying to rhyme,
to write in rhythm
but how to listen to it when silent prevails?
oh no again I'm rhyming talking about the veils ...)
Fed up with almost everything,
so angry in despair.
Smoke, alcohol and peppermint
are blending in the air.
I am not a poet baby.
Never was I one.
I'm flirting with eternity.
I' m coming from the sun.
A rollercoster up and down
life is, will be and was.
Life is a clown baby,
laughter in camouflage.
Two years I am wandering
the rest are now erased
Never give up wondering.
The dream you never chased,
go find it today.
Monday, 15 February 2016
Saturday, 2 January 2016
Γίναμε
Nα βγαίνεις, να μιλας με κόσμο, να ακούσεις τι έχουν να σου πουν.
Αυτό κάνω τον τελευταίο καιρό, ξέρεις τι άκουσα?
Πως πρέπει λέει να φύγουν γιατί θα γίνουμε πολλοί,
Δεν κατάλαβαν ότι πουθενά δεν χωράμε.
Όταν τα πόδια φτάσουν να χτυπήσουν το κεφάλι υπάρχει πρόβλημα, λέει, θα το δεις ...
Θα παρακαλάς να μην ήσουν εδώ. Μα όπου και να 'σαι είσαι στη θέση τους. Έγινες αυτοί..
Κι όσοι δεν το 'χουν βιώσει .. πώς να καταλάβουν.
Στο δρόμο η ζωή δεν αφήνει στάλες μαραμένων τριαντάφυλλων.
Αφήνει γέλιο, μοίρασμα και αγάπη.
Μη δίνεις σημασία, λέει, άστους να λένε.
Και ένα κάρο ντεπόσιτα ψάχνουν χώρο να δώσουν.
Ντεπόζιτα απο καβάντζες ''χρεωσέ τα στη φωτιά''
Γύναμαι όλοι μετανάστες, Γίναμε όλοι καλλιτέχνες
μέσα σε χρωμάτων παλέτες που στάζουν
εκείνες τις δακρισμένες ελπίδες και άλλα γλυκανάλατα
κάλαντα σκόρισαν παντου...
Sunday, 20 December 2015
#νοφιλτερ
Κρύο. Βροχή. Ψιλόβροχο
σταματάει λίγο .. ξαναπιάνει ..
Προτιμώ την παρακμή μας
στην ακμή της ζωής μας
σε δρόμους, στενάκια-ζωγραφιστά
με τη φίλη που γελάει
τον Κωστάκη που τα σπάει
και τον που πίνει ουίσκι και πολύ δεν μιλά
Μέσα στους άκυρους και τους προδότες
υπάρχουν πότες και κάτι σοφοί
υπάρχουν τεχνίτες της τέχνης αδέλφια
μαέστροι της τύχης και της αλλαγής
Υπάρχουν οι φίλοι που γράφουν ποιήματα
και μουσικάντες και μπάντες πολλές
υποβόσκοντα ενεργά νήματα
που κινούν κόντραμπάσσου χορδές
Υπάρχει ο ήλιος και μια πλατεία
και πυρήνες εν δυνάμει φωτιές
αν ενωθούνε με πάθος αν καούνε
θα ζεστάνουν α στ έγω ν ψυχές
Δεν μπορώ να το τελειώσω, ποτέ άλλωστε δεν μπορούσα
με την αρχη και το τέλος είχα θέματα πάντα
δεν μιλώ για μανιφέστο ούτε για ιντιφάντα
μιλώ για ζωή που θα ζούσα
σταματάει λίγο .. ξαναπιάνει ..
Προτιμώ την παρακμή μας
στην ακμή της ζωής μας
σε δρόμους, στενάκια-ζωγραφιστά
με τη φίλη που γελάει
τον Κωστάκη που τα σπάει
και τον που πίνει ουίσκι και πολύ δεν μιλά
Μέσα στους άκυρους και τους προδότες
υπάρχουν πότες και κάτι σοφοί
υπάρχουν τεχνίτες της τέχνης αδέλφια
μαέστροι της τύχης και της αλλαγής
Υπάρχουν οι φίλοι που γράφουν ποιήματα
και μουσικάντες και μπάντες πολλές
υποβόσκοντα ενεργά νήματα
που κινούν κόντραμπάσσου χορδές
Υπάρχει ο ήλιος και μια πλατεία
και πυρήνες εν δυνάμει φωτιές
αν ενωθούνε με πάθος αν καούνε
θα ζεστάνουν α στ έγω ν ψυχές
Δεν μπορώ να το τελειώσω, ποτέ άλλωστε δεν μπορούσα
με την αρχη και το τέλος είχα θέματα πάντα
δεν μιλώ για μανιφέστο ούτε για ιντιφάντα
μιλώ για ζωή που θα ζούσα
Sunday, 29 November 2015
Attack the panic
It's like a burning fire in the chest
and palpitations.
Cold hands. Cold sweat and heavy breath.
Pain in the jaws and palpitations...
Breath. Just Breath and let it flow.
Let it go and breath.
Exploring different states of unconsciousness
can be disastrous.
Remember when we were siting on the edge of that cliff?
It felt like flying all over town,
All those lights looked like sparkling stars
and all the roads were open for us.
Remember when we were siting on the bench near the sea?
At that place where is the end of nowhere,
the wind was whistling, taking every thought away.
Light the fireplace ... i'm coming soon...
Sunday, 8 November 2015
Things should have been said.
I was there sitting on a comfy chair, in my clothes, watching them talking and nodding heads...
He came close and ask '' Whats up?''
-The sky. The sky is up. No small talk please..
Tell me something nice. Something you know.
Something deep-or maybe not- but tell me something more.
I need you to tell me something more.
Honest. Truthful. Don't hide behind politeness.
I learnt that there is always a hidden message in ''No offence'', and part of truth ''I'm only joking'' and as you know I love writing, I respect the words that's why I learnt to read between the lines...
Always believe your thoughts (not all of them).
Those based on facts and instincts.
And keep an eye on apologetic people, is a sign of weakness and a dirty mind.
Take care of yourself. No one is going to protect you.
People are strange, competitive, egoists, egocentric, opportunists, two- faced, three-faced, manipulative, disturbed... Is just the evil human nature, Emanuel said correctly...
And it's really hard to find good heart people whose souls align with yours.
If you find one, keep him and work on the relationship, every single day.
Love is impossible with strangers. Fear prevails. Logic prevails. And that's good.
Every time you act illogical you lose -parts of yourself-.
Stick to your values and ethics. Try to be free but don't forget that ''everything is a box within a box'' -learnt that from my Jewish friend who also writes and he knows better as he is wise-
Hope is not for sale. Not everything is business. Everything is game theory. Be honest but not open. Have critical mind - question everything -even yourself. Believe your heart. Define your feelings. Be aware of what you feel and why. If it makes you feel alright keep it. If it doesn't burn it fast.
Don't pass me the ball I' ll kick it away. We, make circles only to dance.
Close all your thoughts in a '' Kind of fine'' and carry on...
I was sitting there quietly slightly nervous, in my clothes, listening to every one of them talking and nodding heads, with their bodies talking the unspoken truth.
Background song? ''Who are you to wave your finger''...''you musta been out your head''...
I left the room and went for a cigarette.
Background song? ''Who are you to wave your finger''...''you musta been out your head''...
I left the room and went for a cigarette.
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
In silence
Fade away in silence
Reborn again
with a different identity.
Slightly melancholic,
dead alive.
Killed the heart and now obeys the mind
She used to say ''nothing is lost in nothing''
but
something is lost in nothing -is the truth-
and that is that hurts the most.
Saturday, 10 October 2015
Μια και για πάντα
Περάσανε τα χρόνια και δεν φάνηκες
τις ώρες του χειμώνα που σε ζήταγε η ψυχή
πένα πάνω σε χαρτί
στίχος μου έγινες
Δεν είναι ποίημα
είναι ρίμα στη ρίμα
αφού με ξέρεις καλά
κάτι τέτοιες στιγμές
δεν δίνω μία απλά
Κολλάει λίγο και περνά
μ'ενα ποτήρι κρασί
μ'ενα τσιγάρο στο φάρο
μέσα στη νύχτα καυτή
κραυγή ανάσα και δάκρυ
ένα αστέρι φωτίζει
τις πληγές που αφήσαν
μια κιθάρα, δυο στίχοι
Ήθελα τόσα να πω
κι άλλα τόσα να κάνω
μα όσο φεύγεις σε χάνω
δε σε πιάνω ποτέ
Σ' έσβησα χτες
σήμερα πάλι σου γράφω
μύθο χρόνια σε πλάθω
όσα για σένα έχω κάνει
πήγανε στράφι στο ράφι
μες στο κουτί απο αναμνήσεις
για όσα θέλεις να ζήσεις
Από καρδιάς κατευθείαν
φεύγουν τα λόγια μανία
σαν εμπόδια σε δρόμο
κάθε ονειρό σου στοιχειώνω
και φοβάμαι τα βράδια
μη σου αφήσω σκοτάδια
στους δρόμους που περπατάς
αφού ο,τι αγαπάω σκοτώνω
σαν τον Μήδα λερώνω χρυσό
και τελειώνω εδώ
Σε καίω μια και για πάντα
της ζωής μου η μπάντα
πάει τουρ σε άλλα μέρη
και ελπίδα δεν έχω πως μια μέρα θα σ'εχω
αφού περάσαν τα χρόνια κι έχεις γίνει καπνός
και επειδή μην ξεχνάς
Δεν είμαι κανενός
τις ώρες του χειμώνα που σε ζήταγε η ψυχή
πένα πάνω σε χαρτί
στίχος μου έγινες
Δεν είναι ποίημα
είναι ρίμα στη ρίμα
αφού με ξέρεις καλά
κάτι τέτοιες στιγμές
δεν δίνω μία απλά
Κολλάει λίγο και περνά
μ'ενα ποτήρι κρασί
μ'ενα τσιγάρο στο φάρο
μέσα στη νύχτα καυτή
κραυγή ανάσα και δάκρυ
ένα αστέρι φωτίζει
τις πληγές που αφήσαν
μια κιθάρα, δυο στίχοι
Ήθελα τόσα να πω
κι άλλα τόσα να κάνω
μα όσο φεύγεις σε χάνω
δε σε πιάνω ποτέ
Σ' έσβησα χτες
σήμερα πάλι σου γράφω
μύθο χρόνια σε πλάθω
όσα για σένα έχω κάνει
πήγανε στράφι στο ράφι
μες στο κουτί απο αναμνήσεις
για όσα θέλεις να ζήσεις
Από καρδιάς κατευθείαν
φεύγουν τα λόγια μανία
σαν εμπόδια σε δρόμο
κάθε ονειρό σου στοιχειώνω
και φοβάμαι τα βράδια
μη σου αφήσω σκοτάδια
στους δρόμους που περπατάς
αφού ο,τι αγαπάω σκοτώνω
σαν τον Μήδα λερώνω χρυσό
και τελειώνω εδώ
Σε καίω μια και για πάντα
της ζωής μου η μπάντα
πάει τουρ σε άλλα μέρη
και ελπίδα δεν έχω πως μια μέρα θα σ'εχω
αφού περάσαν τα χρόνια κι έχεις γίνει καπνός
και επειδή μην ξεχνάς
Δεν είμαι κανενός
Saturday, 19 September 2015
Mr. Writer
Pushing you aside protecting
your visions for
a wishful future
so kind- like this violet veil
you write in your poems for-
In the middle of the night
this bright white silver sunlight
-the moon reflects-
fills the gaps between the lines
A flawless river of
a whole eternity
waits to be discovered. Dis_ covered.
To unveil the truth twice.
Personal. Judged. Mental.
Fluent
Motion and emotions
-and Goodbyes.
The bridge that tear apart.
With the emblem of the writer on the hand
tempting
and
apologetic
Tuesday, 15 September 2015
Τα τραγούδια μας, γέρασαν
Τρεις μήνες έχω να σου γράψω
σε είδα μια μέρα στα κλεφτά
πάλι μακριά μου σ'εχω
της σιωπής μου συντροφιά
Χρόνια που πέρασαν αιώνες
σταγόνες γέλιου μ'έλουσαν
μία ματιά χίλιες εικόνες
τα τραγούδια μας, γέρασαν
Φοβάται ο πρίγκιππας
κι η κούκλα χωμάτινη
πράττουμε άλογα
της ζωής μας στιγμές
ο μάγος ξεψύχησε
ο καβαλάρης μας χάθηκε
πήγαν χαμένες οι προσευχές
τη διαμαντένια προβλήτα
μας την βυθίσανε
πήραν φωτιά
οι παλιές μας κραυγές
μάσκες τα πρόσωπα
δεν μας έμεινε τίποτα
να ονειρευτούμε τις χαραυγές
Μία πυξίδα μόνο κρατάω
και την ανάμνηση
της παιδικής μας χαράς
φώτα που σβήνουν
κι άλλα που ανάβουν
γλυκός ο έρως της λησμονιάς
σε είδα μια μέρα στα κλεφτά
πάλι μακριά μου σ'εχω
της σιωπής μου συντροφιά
Χρόνια που πέρασαν αιώνες
σταγόνες γέλιου μ'έλουσαν
μία ματιά χίλιες εικόνες
τα τραγούδια μας, γέρασαν
Φοβάται ο πρίγκιππας
κι η κούκλα χωμάτινη
πράττουμε άλογα
της ζωής μας στιγμές
ο μάγος ξεψύχησε
ο καβαλάρης μας χάθηκε
πήγαν χαμένες οι προσευχές
τη διαμαντένια προβλήτα
μας την βυθίσανε
πήραν φωτιά
οι παλιές μας κραυγές
μάσκες τα πρόσωπα
δεν μας έμεινε τίποτα
να ονειρευτούμε τις χαραυγές
Μία πυξίδα μόνο κρατάω
και την ανάμνηση
της παιδικής μας χαράς
φώτα που σβήνουν
κι άλλα που ανάβουν
γλυκός ο έρως της λησμονιάς
Wednesday, 24 June 2015
Keep calm and just breathe
Why we care so much of what other people think of us ?
No.. really now..i mean ..
why is it so important?
We have are own thoughts, are own needs and interests.Why we want to be accepted?
Accepted from whom? Parents? Friends? Peers? Acquaintances? ..
Its hard to understand that -we are only belong to ourselves-. We say things like that to us everyday but at what extend we really realise it?
We afraid of being judged or we afraid the critique. Are those two things -judgement and critique- the same or they are just two different words to state the same thing. When we judge is the act of stating our opinion. When we critique we do the same. So where is the difference? The difference is in the history of language.
''Judged'' derives from jus,(dikaion in Greek) and critique -reminds me the verb (krinw in Greek ) which means: i give my opinion on a certain issue.
We know that, we can open a dictionary and see those things, the issue is deeper though.
Why we are afraid of being judged or being under critique...and i can understand the first one no one has money to pay lawyers or want to end up in a prison...but i don't understand why we afraid of being criticised and i really don't understand the meaning of the phrase''constructive criticism''. Better not start the the -isms...
I am getting confused and i don't want to over think too much or analysing and stating the obvious. All the societal norms are formed in order to be able to live in a society ... but we are all so different and unique and lots of us struggle to conform to those societal norms ... then we make other societal norms to abide by and we find peers and people who are similar to us in order to move on .. All that in the sphere of the appreciation and the feeling of belonging somewhere.
And we forget that we belong to ourselves, who belong to the universe. Everything is so chaotic and as they say chaos has an order itself. All i want to say is that if we know who we are we will not have the feeling of being appreciated it will happen automatically as the universe has its own powers and a specific order that every one of us is everything and nothing at the same time.
Keep calm and ...
No.. really now..i mean ..
why is it so important?
We have are own thoughts, are own needs and interests.Why we want to be accepted?
Accepted from whom? Parents? Friends? Peers? Acquaintances? ..
Its hard to understand that -we are only belong to ourselves-. We say things like that to us everyday but at what extend we really realise it?
We afraid of being judged or we afraid the critique. Are those two things -judgement and critique- the same or they are just two different words to state the same thing. When we judge is the act of stating our opinion. When we critique we do the same. So where is the difference? The difference is in the history of language.
''Judged'' derives from jus,(dikaion in Greek) and critique -reminds me the verb (krinw in Greek ) which means: i give my opinion on a certain issue.
We know that, we can open a dictionary and see those things, the issue is deeper though.
Why we are afraid of being judged or being under critique...and i can understand the first one no one has money to pay lawyers or want to end up in a prison...but i don't understand why we afraid of being criticised and i really don't understand the meaning of the phrase''constructive criticism''. Better not start the the -isms...
I am getting confused and i don't want to over think too much or analysing and stating the obvious. All the societal norms are formed in order to be able to live in a society ... but we are all so different and unique and lots of us struggle to conform to those societal norms ... then we make other societal norms to abide by and we find peers and people who are similar to us in order to move on .. All that in the sphere of the appreciation and the feeling of belonging somewhere.
And we forget that we belong to ourselves, who belong to the universe. Everything is so chaotic and as they say chaos has an order itself. All i want to say is that if we know who we are we will not have the feeling of being appreciated it will happen automatically as the universe has its own powers and a specific order that every one of us is everything and nothing at the same time.
Keep calm and ...
Friday, 12 June 2015
Νιώθω
Θυμάσαι που καθόμασταν δίπλα στο παράθυρο και ταξιδεύαμε με τις ώρες στο φως των αστεριών; Κάθε Παρασκευή δύο με πέντε το πρωί...και σίγουρα κάθε μεσημέρι γυρνώντας απ΄το σχολείο, απόγευμα, πετούσαμε τσάντα, κάναμε ένα τσιγάρο στα κρυφά και αφηνόμασταν για λίγο σε μελωδίες χωρίς όρια... Θυμάσαι δεν μπορεί... γι'αυτό καίγεσαι κάτι ξεχασμένα βράδια που δεν θες με κανέναν να μιλήσεις, ένα συναίσθημα του παρελθόντος θες να ξαναζήσεις και λίγο από τις εικόνες της Αθήνας του '80 που ονειρευτήκαμε και είδαμε μέσα από τα μάτια των φίλων που τις έγραψαν τραγούδι...
Αυτό το σημείο στη Βάθης που ποτέ δεν θα 'ναι πια το ίδιο ... τσιμέντο και άρωμα Ιουνίου, περιστέρια σε σύρματα της Δεη, σοκάκια δερμάτινα και τζιν ...Μηχανές και γκαζάκια, καπνός και ήλιος στην πλατεία, αστέρια οι κεραίες των σπιτιών ... χαλασμένο τηλέφωνο σπιρτόκουτο με σκοινάκι από μπαλκόνι σε μπαλκόνι ...
Δεν πέρασαν οι εποχές.. απλώς άλλαξαν... Σου στέλνω τα βράδια και δεν απαντάς ενώ είσαι online...Είχε καιρό να με φλερτάρει ο Νόστος ... τόσο καιρό ούτε καν ο Μορφέας δεν ερχόταν ... μα σήμερα ο πρώτος χτύπησε το τζάμι με πέτρα βοτσαλάκι από την παραλία που είδαμε το ένα και μοναδικό ηλιοβασίλεμμα πριν σε αφήσω πάλι...
Του άνοιξα. Έστρωσα μαύρο σεντόνι και κόκκινα μαξιλάρια και άνοιξα το ράδιο να παίζει, άφησα λίγο την κουρτίνα ανοιχτή ίσα ίσα να βλέπω ουρανό και αφουγγράστηκα την πιο όμορφη μελαγχολία μετά από τόσα χρόνια ... αυτήν την γλυκιά που μας κρατά ζωντανούς, όχι την άλλη που δεν χωράμε πουθενά... αυτή της γλυκιάς μοναξιάς που τη νιώθεις στο στήθος σαν φλόγα που για κάποιο λόγο σου θυμίζει σκηνή απ΄το Τσακάλι και ποίημα της Γώγου μαζί ... Αυτή που την νιώθαμε ίδια τότε κάθε Παρασκευή ... και κάθε απόγευμα μετά το σχολείο...
Ρε ! Νιώθω ακόμα καταλαβαίνεις; ... Νιώθω.. είμαι .. υπάρχω..καταλαβαίνεις δεν χρειάζεται να εξηγώ .. εξάλλου ποτέ δεν νοιαστήκαμε για όσους παίρνουν τα λόγια μας ''αουτ οφ δε κοντεξτ'' ... Δεν τα κατάφεραν, στέκομαι εδώ... Θα γυρίσω μια μέρα... στο υπόσχομαι ... όσο είμαστε ακόμα ζωντανοί άσε με να δω κι άλλα... και όταν χωρτάσω ... θα γυρίσω να πιούμε σοκολάτα να κοιταζόμαστε στα μάτια και να παίζει το κομμάτι το γνωστό...
Kαι που΄σαι στο 'χα πει και παλιότερα ... ν' ακούς τη διαίσθηση και κάτι που έμαθα εδώ ...
Να φοβάσαι τους επιτιδευμένα ευγενικούς .... σε περνούν για αγενή... όταν μιλάς αλήθειες.
Αυτό το σημείο στη Βάθης που ποτέ δεν θα 'ναι πια το ίδιο ... τσιμέντο και άρωμα Ιουνίου, περιστέρια σε σύρματα της Δεη, σοκάκια δερμάτινα και τζιν ...Μηχανές και γκαζάκια, καπνός και ήλιος στην πλατεία, αστέρια οι κεραίες των σπιτιών ... χαλασμένο τηλέφωνο σπιρτόκουτο με σκοινάκι από μπαλκόνι σε μπαλκόνι ...
Δεν πέρασαν οι εποχές.. απλώς άλλαξαν... Σου στέλνω τα βράδια και δεν απαντάς ενώ είσαι online...Είχε καιρό να με φλερτάρει ο Νόστος ... τόσο καιρό ούτε καν ο Μορφέας δεν ερχόταν ... μα σήμερα ο πρώτος χτύπησε το τζάμι με πέτρα βοτσαλάκι από την παραλία που είδαμε το ένα και μοναδικό ηλιοβασίλεμμα πριν σε αφήσω πάλι...
Του άνοιξα. Έστρωσα μαύρο σεντόνι και κόκκινα μαξιλάρια και άνοιξα το ράδιο να παίζει, άφησα λίγο την κουρτίνα ανοιχτή ίσα ίσα να βλέπω ουρανό και αφουγγράστηκα την πιο όμορφη μελαγχολία μετά από τόσα χρόνια ... αυτήν την γλυκιά που μας κρατά ζωντανούς, όχι την άλλη που δεν χωράμε πουθενά... αυτή της γλυκιάς μοναξιάς που τη νιώθεις στο στήθος σαν φλόγα που για κάποιο λόγο σου θυμίζει σκηνή απ΄το Τσακάλι και ποίημα της Γώγου μαζί ... Αυτή που την νιώθαμε ίδια τότε κάθε Παρασκευή ... και κάθε απόγευμα μετά το σχολείο...
Ρε ! Νιώθω ακόμα καταλαβαίνεις; ... Νιώθω.. είμαι .. υπάρχω..καταλαβαίνεις δεν χρειάζεται να εξηγώ .. εξάλλου ποτέ δεν νοιαστήκαμε για όσους παίρνουν τα λόγια μας ''αουτ οφ δε κοντεξτ'' ... Δεν τα κατάφεραν, στέκομαι εδώ... Θα γυρίσω μια μέρα... στο υπόσχομαι ... όσο είμαστε ακόμα ζωντανοί άσε με να δω κι άλλα... και όταν χωρτάσω ... θα γυρίσω να πιούμε σοκολάτα να κοιταζόμαστε στα μάτια και να παίζει το κομμάτι το γνωστό...
Kαι που΄σαι στο 'χα πει και παλιότερα ... ν' ακούς τη διαίσθηση και κάτι που έμαθα εδώ ...
Να φοβάσαι τους επιτιδευμένα ευγενικούς .... σε περνούν για αγενή... όταν μιλάς αλήθειες.
Tuesday, 2 June 2015
Άκου κορίτσι
Άκου κορίτσι,
καλός κι ο έρωτας
αλλά σαν τη ζωή δεν έχει!
Δίνεσαι δένεσαι
κι άλλο δεν έχεις
την ψυχή σου σκορπάς
σε λάθος αγάπες
με αυταπάτες
πουθενά δεν θα πας
Ξύπνα και ντύσου
και ζακέτα μη πάρεις
σκούπισε δάκρια
φόρα γυαλιά
Άνοιξ την πόρτα
βγες μία βόλτα
κι έχε τον Ήλιο
για συντροφιά
Κι αν βρέχει χόρεψε
δίχως ομπρέλα
αγάπα την τρέλα
και την ομορφιά
κάτι ξέρουν οι νέοι του τώρα
που λένε πως ζουμε μόνο μία φορά
Άσε τα όνειρα και πιάσε τους στόχους
κ ασε τους στίχους και γράψε βιβλίο
να το βαφτίσεις ''εμείς οι δύο''
και να μιλάει για τους ανθρώπους
'Ακου κορίτσι κοντεύεις τα άντα
και ας λένε ο χρόνος σημασία δεν έχει
ζήσε το τώρα σαν να 'ναι για πάντα
η καρδιά με ψυχή μόνο αντέχει
Monday, 1 June 2015
Memories in the sky
Imagine the life we could have had
staring at the ceiling in no existing time
not feeling happy neither sad
irrational the rational trying to find the rhyme
Maybe a song to say goodbye
A broken image of tear drops
All my dreams my high hopes
memories in the sky
A field
A forest
A windy coast
Apple and cinnamon
Flowers and wine
The lake
The mountain
The sweetest kiss
flown away
like autumn leaves
Empty and numb
still try to smile
can't even cry
I think.
I die
I die
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