Early Saturday Morning

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...

Coping with Rejection

Don't take it personally
The doctor said
It is your weight son
My mother said
You know you need to conform to the norm
My friends said
Your target market is naturally limited
My best friend said
Then again I say these are not!

I am not sad
Or hurt
Although
The day that
Follows
Is always
A bit heavy
On my left side...

I asked him once
What am I doing wrong
"You 're chasing a dream and I respect you for that"
If the whole world spins to a particular tune
Why would you want to whistle another?
Truth is more important than life
And truth is always painful and ill-suited...

There is a simple path in life
Paved with corpses
You can choose
An eagle
A fishing spider
A mosquito
A mole
A vulture
A komodo dragon
Or your own corpse…

But when you choose
Make sure you can stand
Yourself,
And opposing whirlwinds...

You can be either a lost island
Or a lost ship
This little matters
Since essentially the journey is the same...
Who shall step on my lonely sandy shores next?
To which harbour will I find you at the docks waving your neckerchief?

Today I laboured
Burying yourself under tasks for execution is always...
And when I went back home
I put my feet up a chair
Draw a long full puff of my vanilla – cherry pipe
Exhale and close me eyes

And as i close my eyes
And dream
My pain loosens
Your figure as I remember lucidly
fades
in its world
That of ideas…
There my soul finds consolation
There the noise stops
There again I will find you
To fall in love with you
All over…

Νεκρά σύννεφα
Γκρίζα πτώματα
Λευκό της σκιάς
Και καφέ της μιζέριας
Τι καμβά ζωγραφίσαμε κι απόψε
Τα έντερα μου ανάκατα και το στομάχι μου πατσάς
Χα!

Thoughts of Darkness...

I wonder when or rather if people ever come in terms with their past.

Maybe if before we died, God, the Universe, Budha, Allah, or whatever supposedly exists out there which no-one has seen though, gave us a week to reconcile with the past.

What would happen then?

Life is a joke and together with it anything that human “collective society” brings with it.

Life is an insurmountable suffer, a never-ending toil and whoever thinks other way is either a fool or a sage.

Life is indeed an unbearable torture for each person, the problem is if we had some brains, because we don’t that’s the only thing for sure, then maybe we wouldn’t have to experience life as such.

Most people need to reach death to understand how screwed up their life really was and most of us need to reach that point to first forgive ourselves for our mistakes and then the people (?) around us. Most of us need to reach death to realize that at some point we were alive, but then we do live in a perishable world where everything dies and lives and lives and dies and so forth indefinitely. And there is no stopping at it; there is no beating around the bush when it comes to the end we are all going to die. Yet it would have been nice to realize how alive we were before that.

Why is it so hard to look back and understand our former being with honesty and sincerity, but as well as others’.

When did we forget how to live and started searching for meaning in our surroundings?

The only place meaning resides is inside of us, in the deepest depths of our existence and in the archaic, archetypal, most basic experiences we get from each other. A touch, a smell, a smile, a sound, a taste these first few innermost basic experiences these are what guides us in life. This is where we should look for meaning not in the whole clutter we keep building in this so called “society”. There is no society, just a foul joke played by some entities on some other entities…

All we have to do is first look in and then look out and we will see a much clearer picture, a much clearer blue sky than we could ever imagine.

Καζαντζακικό

Το χρέος που έχουμε απέναντι στον εαυτό μας είναι να σηκωνόμαστε κάθε μέρα και με νύχια και με δόντια να πολεμάμε αυτά που μας μποδίζουν. Αυτά που μας μποδίζουν να ολοκληρωθούμε να φτάσουμε εκεί που ο δρόμος του φωτός μας καλεί να φτάσουμε. Ας σημαίνει αυτό ότι θα χάσουμε τη σάρκα μας, ας σημαίνει ότι κανείς δεν θα μπορέσει ποτέ για πολύ να σταθεί δίπλα μας, ας είναι! Μόνο η μάχη μπορεί να μας σώσει! Συνεχής, αδιάκοπη και σκληρή, αδυσώπητη με λύσσα!

Στο τέλος της μέρας οι ανατολές που θα εγγραφούν στα μάτια μας θα είναι λαμπρότερες όλων…