Thursday, August 31, 2017

There is a love that stands still
Under the closed window
Of an abandoned house,
That used to be its safehaven.

There is a love that inhales once a year
Under a closed window
That lights up this exact day
And exhales all the other days.

There is a love that lasts
By saving its breath.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

scar tissue




The rosebud one:
Οf high speed and high on new life,
In a garden full of rose bushes;
The equation features accident waiting to happen.
When child too eager to smell the roses and oblivious of  thorns.
Got it luckily right on the eyebrow -a later attractive imperfection-
Three stiches, no remorse, no crying. A braveheart.
The "do not trust what looks and smells beautiful" exercise.
The jump out the window one:
Clear statement of a girl amongst boys,
A super girl plan that turned out 
Destroying an Easter celebration.
Intoxicated adults in panic, running the
Party-pooper to the hospital. Real bummer.
Seven stitches, a resurrection, and a late massive attack
On a cold, by then sacrificial, lamb.
The "it is not the same being a girl" lesson.
The balance beam one:
Though I could somersault into the clouds
While gravity again had the other plan
And landed me on a hard one. Five stitches.
Tried it again, many times, till I succeeded.
A medal injury. The "fail again, fail better" exam.
The deer one:
A close encounter, "who is the boss", type of.
Defense versus spontaneity; not a match.
Six stitches and an afterthought: the "do not expect others
to accept what you expect" doctrine.

And the "think before you act" test.
The baby one:
By appointment. Prep, epidural, cut, 8 am and out is
She, who was too attached to the womb to do it on her own.
Twenty stitches, for a gasp of air. Wound not accounted.
The lesson of "life and love". 
The breast one:
My life or that thing.
Not by choice, not by impulse, not by pride.

Just by force. Stitches never counted.
The "chance, choice and synchronicity"
Dissertation. Where the three graces can turn into
The three curses, anywhere and anytime, anyhow.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Whys and whatnots

Why is there something instead of nothing?
Maybe this something is nothing, and nothing
Is far more interesting than anything in the Cosmos.
And since matter is so scarce, and void fills the Universe
To whom should this petty matter, matter more than the vast nothingness,
But to poets and physicists, for the mere matter of asking why.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Ιστός Αγάπης

Ανάμεσα σε σένα και σε μένα,
Στο χώρο τον κενό που μας χωρίζει,
Η Αγάπη έχει υφάνει τον ιστό της.
Πυκνό όσο χρειάζεται για καλή σοδειά
Και αραιό όσο πρέπει για τα μικρά, τα περιττά.
Έτσι, οι ιδέες πάντα θα μένουν κοινή μοιρασιά
Και τα ανούσια θα περνούν και θα πετούν μακριά.
Το κενό ανάμεσα σε σένα και σ' εμένα
Το ενώνει ένας ιστός Αγάπης,
Για να ταίζουμε ο ένας τον άλλον
Και να μην πεινάσουμε ποτέ ξανά.



diagnosis

My photo
i have nothing to declare, but a can of tuna