Almost Zen

The middle-aged woman

2011-12-24T02:13:00.005+02:00

During the daymore and morea certain thoughtoccurs to her: men, loved and unloved,even the married, usually die first. She thinks "this is aweird honour, but for whom?" Instinctively she wonders"Where's Paul?" Then she imagines his funeraland post mortem emotionsrun through her heart like wild horses gallopingthrough virgin land.

No-one

2011-11-18T08:23:00.001+02:00

Beside the mirrorwhat else protests?i.escorted, feel yourself.ii.this ball is overnot the rest.iii.call emptinessanother name.iv.and so be it.

The Middle Man

2011-11-14T13:29:00.003+02:00

- Move a little please, can't you see you have some space left?- Αnd go where? These two guys to my right and to my left, are hindering me.- In that case, why don't you take a step back?- I tried walking backwards, if that's what you mean, but they bothdid the same.- Αnd why don't you do something about it?- Do what? Complain? Poke them?- I don't know, but you will be very strange, stranger than

new post

2011-10-06T16:12:00.000+03:00

MORALSSo what is it with going to the seaTo learn how to live lifeFrom the beginning?A few stars left, no moonThe sun has decided to shine28 hours per day. The pebbles, when I touch themI can dial numbersAnd the sea is so blueMy eyes hurt. Diving my way out of miseryNot knowing where it leadsOr close my eyes, dial a random number,Not finish the call, but turn it off Let the end start another

repost - return

2011-10-03T09:52:00.001+03:00

REFLECTIONSA pale anchorite haltsIn the middle of a lake,Turns and looks at hisPoised footsteps.Invisible to boatmen,He wears his sandals.Inverts his bodyTesting the upperDactyls of faith.Sees his unfamiliar face,And resting on his hands,Notices that phalangesLeft muddy hand printsIn reflections of clouds,Just like bloated worms. (Jan 2008 - May 2009)

...

2011-07-22T01:12:00.002+03:00

Agoraphobia .Woman crossing the streetwearing some kind of summer slipperslate at night when the city seemsemptyHer silhouette the opposite of clownsIn the shuffling sound of her feetchildren's laughter still resonates fromearlier spectacles playing hide and seekunder herbalconycrouching behind parked carsEach time a head was spottedshe felt as if it was hersthen the moon yelled"Olly olly oxen

.....

2011-07-18T03:27:00.001+03:00

Stand-up Comedian .Another discussion off-topic.The thing is, I concludedWith a mysterious self-quote:"When the archbishop died, I didn't cry,But when the homosexual actorKicked the bucket, I burst into tears.Such are the reactions of a sinnerTo the deaths of two other sinners,Deaths that were televised.I hope mine won't be, oh no,I won't allow it, my death will not be televised,But two or

Auto-untitled

2011-07-06T09:45:00.000+03:00

all I have is myselfand any comparisonbetween our ''all I haves''would bring me shame..

The Unbitten

2011-04-05T03:11:00.000+03:00

Three dogs escaped from a yard, Two blocks from home the wind Suddenly became stronger. Sensed the four-legged gang and ran. The chase - the fall - the panic. They halted, tails wagging, Their formation cordoned offAn unsuspicious life. Picked up school-bag and broken umbrella, Almost trembling.The nights that follow such daysAre nights of fever. Three injured toes healed slowly, Permanently

Embers

2010-12-04T13:12:00.000+02:00

Now that my draft has disappearedI am trying to write a few linesOf what used to be a poem in progress.All I can remember isThat I was talking about a roadLeading to a dried up lake,I was picking up stones I had tripped over,They were anxious to reach the lake,For some fantastic momentsRocketing through air, like mySilver-flash-bike, plopping,Waving goodbye to dryness,But the draft has

Letting go

2010-12-01T22:21:00.000+02:00

My inner battle has stopped Thoughts have nothing to do The ones that survived that is They want to return home Find their families, families Are needed by thoughts too But how do you make a soldier forget When home is not as good a home As an unknown grave?

The Longcase clock

2010-11-07T16:01:00.002+02:00

-Look what I found behind the longcase clock...-Oh my goodness! A toothbrush!-We haven't moved the clock since we got here...-But how come we didn't see it...-How come nobody else saw it...-It is not ours that's for sure.-It probably belongs to the previous tenants.-It strikes me, three years it has been there and nobody' s seen it,although it is not that small to go unnoticed.-Many people

The transmission

2010-10-14T10:26:00.001+03:00

-Let me find employment somewhere!! - Sir, what are you doing in the square under the rainy sky without anumbrella, saying such a thing? - Come here my child, they don’t let me find employment anywhere!! -Sir, you have accustomed us to other things. We really enjoyedwhat you had to say around eleven o’ clock when we go for oursandwiches. -Don’t you enjoy my words now? -Certainly not! - I am sorry

Also

2010-10-06T15:17:00.001+03:00

There are ways of the innocentTrees in the nightStones in the wildernessMemories on the written paper Through these waysI am a worshipperOf languageThe skill to manipulate words Make them meanSomething different If I say that in a poemThat has changed Me also

A wish

2010-08-27T18:30:00.001+03:00

I wished for anonymity like a leaf from the tree you carved my name into when I was not there to stop you. I know so well the dusty road, strangers' feet don't scare me, and if I fall into the gutter the sea is waiting somewhere. I wished for anonymity upon a shooting star, after all is said and written, I wished too far.

The Lonely Pawn

2010-07-28T22:58:00.001+03:00

Captain plays chess with another Captain. The Royal Navy against Pirates. The Lonely Pawn dances When the Queen doesn't look. Dances around Horses. A Tower moves.

Workaday

2010-07-12T18:32:00.002+03:00

In the evening Ordinary days Share a spindly trestle table With mothers and fathers Farmers and factory girls, Put their feet up, Lean their chairs back, shoeless. Staring at their toes Wiggle them to relax. One hand sensing The other hand's lifeline, on and off; What will they be doing next? Probably more or less, What they were doing yesterday. Glorious days have a conference desk Of their

Evening poem

2010-05-27T20:56:00.000+03:00

Time is hiding in my dreams uncut diamonds filled with rays capsules full of virgin forests lakes of joy and streams of knowledge Time is playing with two nymphs free and dauntless, without needs, chased around like little kids giggling on god’s doorstep When I sleep I find some solace when I wake I am his nightmare I don’t hide and I don’t play I don’t know much I’m afraid At his mercy all my

Love, love. Love.

2010-05-22T22:33:00.002+03:00