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I told you the colour is red
but then again…
You keep wondering
You keep asking
Definitions, Descriptions, Potent Words
The writer has an obligation.
Become God the eternal observer.
Observe, record, but never interfere
the old adage…
I see
I record
I interpret
I write
Therefore, I interfere
So what is it then? I feel warm…
Just by looking at you.
I feel I can feel
I feel the definition
I feel the description
I feel the potent word
It is a mystery.
Because it is defined
When you hug me from behind,
even though I'm wearing yellow.
Because…
The kiss
slowly lowering
the head
to approach
you close your eyes
I close mine
And dive fast
like the first time
like the last time.
I missed you on my train ride
home, where you are.
I missed you.
In the embrace
the writer hides his sorrow
In the writing
Embraced and Embracer
are immortalised…
The writer turns and sees
the tattooed woman
exudes a singing precipitation
And then the couple…
hand in elbow
hand in elbow
bump and laugh
The couple.
Eyes reflecting, mirroring eyes
faces bright.
It’s the Union, Jack…
Upon touch
a flash flood
power of a tornado
tonight's journey
next morning's wreckage.
Night's guise as necessary
for expression
of a feather's
empyrean, rose petalled touch.
Obscure fire
of questionable origins
liquid, wet - a wildfire
unstoppable conqueror.
One however, not
of libidinal origins, but
born of
dry static lightning.
For the deserted invite
such fervidity
voracious appettie - allowance
to be consumed, whole.
Έτρεμες στα χέρια μου σαν σε κρατούσα
και τα κορμιά μας πιάνανε φωτιά.
Ήθελα να σκύψω το λαιμό να σου φιλήσω
μα φοβόμουν προσβολή
κι αντ’ αυτού σου χάιδευα απαλά τα μαλλιά
κι έδιωχνα την ανάσα μου ζεστή
στη βάση των λοβών σου
που σαν κερασιά δάγκωνα ανεπαίσθητα.
Η σάρκα σου λευκή και λεία, ζεστή και τρυφερή
αν δεν σε είχα δίπλα μου
να νοιώθω την ανάσα σου
το στήθος σου να ανεβοκατεβάζει
θα σε φώναζα Γαλάτεια.
Ζεστό κορμί χωμένο μέσ’ το πλάι μου
σαν τα μωρά σε μήτρα αγκαλιασμένοι
κάτω απ’ τα σκεπάσματα
ένοιωσα για λίγο πάλι άλλος Αδάμ
δεκαπεντάχρονος με χέρι που τρέμει
να σε αγγίζω και να νοιώθω
μέσα στα λαγόνια μου φωτιά να ανεβαίνει.
Ξύπνησα το πρωί νωρίς
και ως εθνογράφος παρατηρητής
κατέγραψα την κάθε σου φακίδα, κάθε ελιά,
τα χείλια σου διάγραμμα στα δάχτυλα μου.
Έσωσα την εικόνα σου για χρόνια κι άλλα χρόνια
Άγγελος με καστανά μαλλιά
νόμιζα πως ξύπνησε δίπλα μου.
Παρατηρούσα την ρυθμική σου ανάσα
κι ήθελα πρώτα να γείρω
να προσκυνήσω τις ελιές στα στήθη σου
κι υστέρα να σού ‘κλεβα μια ανάσα
κι ένα φιλί στα χείλι.
Μ’ ανέτειλε ο άρχοντας των ουρανών
και πριν προλάβω σταχτή γίνανε τα όνειρα
και οι φαντασιώσεις, λυγίσανε τα ήπατα
εμπρός στα όμορφα σου ματιά
τα πονεμένα, τα βαθιά, τα δίχως άλλο.
I invite darkness
to sit on my lap
like an obedient little bitch...
But she is poison
deep rooted in my vains
and slowly chews my balls off...
Alcohol and cigarettes,
drugs and food,
morality unbound
Movies, tv-series, and a bed
the death of modern man
pills as if only a wish
portrayed a better life
in all the magazines.
If we share it together
maybe I become a better person.
If you take my weight
and I take yours
maybe just maybe we can actually survive...
Κυλάνε
από τα δάχτυλα μου
σαν
σταγόνες καφέ
μυρωδιά κανέλας
δίχως ζάχαρη...
Ο χρόνος
ζύμωση στον πάτο
διαβάζει
του καφέ
η θειά
για κάτι μαύρα μάτια.
Κι εκεί π'
απλώνει
του ποιητή ο θάρρος
μακριά του διώχνεται αυτή
σαν του κεριού ο θέρος...
Raining fog
misty rain
drops hanging
mid-air
one desperate breath
before goodbye
I keep fists
clenched
teeth
stomach
not to act
not to insult
not to aggress
a sensation through the spine
denied
the end
another night
to seek
one more
encounter
a phantasmal chance
You
a mirror
a ghost?
a phantasy?
an idea?
a gentle breeze
a playful butterfly
fluttering nymph
dark-haired angel
a gentle stroke
of my chords
a poor fiddle
I am
dancing your tunes
this hug is going to last forever
so… is this night.
It is early, a Saturday morning
still the sun has not come out yet
the birds are chirping
and I am voraciously smoking.
The humidity in the air embraces me -
such a mild temperature -
I smoke and I already miss you...
I miss your thighs against mine
your breasts on mine
your sweet sweat dripping...
I remember you in my bed
your fingers tracing my lips
but you were never here...
I already miss you
your long black hair
soft and welcoming, my fingers
interlocking, brushing through
your smile how it lights
how it makes my head feel
light...
I miss you and I want to
lay by your side...
Rest my head upon your
breasts mother earth
Lily of Lilies
how I miss you...
Come lay by me
allow my hands to embrace you
Allow my darkness
to kiss you
allow my weakness
to be saved by you
allow me...
I already miss you
and I want to hide
between your thighs
I miss you
and I
I already...
The foggy skies
cover my darkened mood
and this music
keeps going around
slow strokes of a piano
echoing in the desert.
I miss you...
Oh how I miss you...
'Ought to' lives in my dreams
were I strong enough is would not
veer off to phantasy.
Yet unable as I am
I see is and despair as no
'ought to' was ever given to
a coward's touch.
And you are
no 'ought to' is needed
to make thy touch sweet
thy smile a fairies touch
thy look sandman's dust.
You are and I cannot
be but only drown
my self-pity among
hedonic platitudes
dream erringly unnerved
of what I 'ought to'
to be with you
as is.
For yet, the eyes speak of heart
and muscle spasms
but the tongue remains silent.
I look at you and see only fractions.
Your luminous eyes,
your long black lustrous hair,
your unencumbered smile.
I cannot focus.
Untouched your image shall remain
to memory committed.
Sprawling dream, material of phantasy
untouched your image shall remain.
