Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Panic attack at 4 am

Original art by Dan Dos Santos

It's 4 am and i wake up. 

The room around me is floating in shadowy waves.

Away goes the light, escaping under my eyelids

I catch my breath, while i 'm stabbing my dreams

burying them under the dark corners of this abysmal night,

but they, disobedient devils, start living again, like zombies

craving to eat away my heart... 

And I cannot move. 


I feel this armor so heavy now all over me

I wear it for so many years -

and I have paid for it again and again... 

You see, it costs me so much pain. 

I got used to it though,

always desperately trying to keep out

everything that hurts.

My heart was securely self exiled,

imprisoned behind these obscure high walls

I cried so happy, so proud of myself "Safe! Safe!"

I, the fool, I, the ancient idiot...

Because It hurts so much to let your naked soul to be devoured by wild beasts

hoping that they will spare you - 

but they never do.


Now, the irony is,

i thought that i had an armor so strong

i thought that the bleeding of old wounds would stop

and i was thinking i was protected

or I hoped that i was.

But all it took was one blow 

and this tin fortress was cracked from top to bottom

attacked by this unknown foe who demands to let down 

all my defenses.

My heart is under siege.

I fight back, tired and scarred and bleeding

But  this new enemy, 

unlike any other,  

so beautiful and fierce,

mighty and unstoppable, 

dressed with the sparkling mantle of Love

is standing outside my walls, before my gates,

patiently waiting for my promise of surrender.

He shows his bright weapons, his lips red with blood... 

And all i can do is stand tall and face him

Knowing

This is a war i cannot win...

A woman...




 A woman welcomes a man inside her body

and she becomes a glorious feast for him

and he becomes a glorious feast for her

Her hands embrace him like the feathers of a swan

Her body is a temple where he resides in holy pilgrimage - 

a humble traveler to her holy womb.

A woman welcomes a man inside her body

She offers her breasts to his eyes and to his lips 

so he can drink her and be fed and be ecstatic with the joy of their love

She offers her hips and unfolds herself freely to him

like a garden of Eden long lost

like forgiveness, like the first 

breath he took beside her...


a woman welcomes a man inside her body

offering shelter

offering peace and safety

like a harbour

like a lighthouse

like a cave

inside her a man at last becomes God again...


Thursday, January 11, 2024

Όταν η Αγάπη σε καλεί... Χαλίλ Γκιμπράν



 Όταν η Αγάπη σε καλεί, ακολούθησέ την, 

μ'όλο που τα μονοπάτια της είναι τραχιά και απότομα.

Κι όταν τα φτερά της σε αγκαλιάσουν, παραδώσου, 

μ'όλο που το σπαθί που είναι κρυμμένο ανάμεσα στις φτερούγες της 

μπορεί να σε πληγώσει. 

Κι όταν σου μιλήσει, πίστεψέ την, 

μ'όλο που η φωνή της μπορεί να διασκορπίσει τα όνειρά σου 

σαν τον βοριά που ερημώνει τον κήπο.

Γιατί, όπως η αγάπη σε στεφανώνει, έτσι και θα σε σταυρώσει.

Κι όπως είναι για το μεγάλωμα σου, είναι και για το κλάδεμά σου.

Η αγάπη δεν δίνει τίποτα παρά μόνο τον εαυτό της, και δεν παίρνει τίποτα παρά από τον εαυτό της.

Η αγάπη δεν κατέχει κι ούτε μπορεί να κατέχεται, γιατί η αγάπη αρκείται στην αγάπη.

Και μην πιστέψεις ότι μπορείς να κατευθύνεις την πορεία της αγάπης, 

γιατί η αγάπη, αν σε βρει άξιο, θα κατευθύνει εκείνη τη δική σου πορεία.

Η αγάπη δεν έχει καμιά άλλη επιθυμία εκτός από την εκπλήρωσή της.

Αλλά αν αγαπάς κι είναι ανάγκη να έχεις επιθυμίες, ας είναι αυτές οι επιθυμίες σου:


Να λιώσεις και να γίνεις σαν το τρεχούμενο ρυάκι που λέει το τραγούδι του στη νύχτα.

Να γνωρίσεις τον πόνο της πολύ μεγάλης τρυφερότητας.

Να πληγωθείς από την ίδια την ίδια τη γνώση σου της αγάπης.

Και να ματώσεις πρόθυμα και χαρούμενα.


Χαλίλ Γκιμπράν, «Αγάπη»

Friday, December 1, 2023

The Kiss

 

The kiss. 

The soft moist touching of souls. 

Lips, tongues, teeth. 

The mingling of breaths, the harmony of amalgamated flesh

The trembling discovery of how it tastes to be wanted

How many kinds of it? 

Long kiss, deep kiss, 

soft kiss, hard kiss, 

mad kiss, wanted kiss, stolen kiss, 

first kiss, last kiss, passionate kiss, 

kiss of hello's and kiss of goodbye's, 

kiss of a mother, kiss of a child,  

kiss of love and kiss of hatred, 

kiss of faith and kiss of betrayal, 

kiss of light and kiss of shadows, 

kiss of the fool, kiss of the crazy, 

kiss of the damned... 

Since there are as many kisses 

as there are humans upon this mad globe of fumes... 

...can a kiss can be just a kiss...

or a sigh, just a sigh?...

Sunday, January 8, 2023

Far far away



Now, let me tell you that here Is where I mostly love to stand. 

First, in the morning, there is the wine-like sea, green and blue

like eyes staring back at me. 

Then  later, I walk towards the red cliffs 

while memories dance around me and then jump - no use to try and stop them. 

Water moves endlessly azure and vast, tender and cruel 

 and It engulfs everything. 

As if everything remembered never lived.


Evening comes. The sun falls into the sea before me, 

shining and sharp like shattered glass, 

splinters of light fly everywhere, 

scattered across chaos, maybe... my thoughts...



Somewhere on a lonely planet 

there is a well inside a well 

and there lies the echo of my thoughts.

 

Back here, 

now there is also this earth, wet soil,

oregano and mint under the olive trees,

mercy and forgiveness and love --

and bees singing around me 

an ancient song, a whisper 

that speaks about

lost lovers,

and lizards crawling under stones, and wild pink oleanders.

Light is dancing with dust 

like the first day of Creation.


Then I see birds

I gaze high above into the passing clouds, without knowing why 

How did I get here? Where are we lost?

What did I miss, in this life? 

I ask and ask again but only the wind echoes softly

through the leaves of a lemon tree. 

There lies my answer.


Somewhere deep inside a well within a well

on a lonely dying planet far away, 

a rock drops 

and my dream cracks 

open in two.


Sunday, May 9, 2021

Send In the Clowns - Frank Sinatra.




Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when I'd stopped opening doors,
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again with my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

Don't you love farce?
My fault I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother, they're here.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer,
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Well, maybe next year.

Saturday, April 10, 2021

Words by Anthony Hopkins...









Words by Anthony Hopkins...

"Let go of people who aren't ready to love you yet.

This is the hardest thing you'll have to do in your life and it will also be the most important thing.

Stop giving your love to those who aren't ready to love or appreciate you yet.

Stop conversations with people who don't want to change.

Stop showing up for and showing care for people who are indifferent to your presence, who display temperamental emotions, who show disrespect or block you out and keep you at bay, despite your best efforts.

I know your instincts attempt everything to win the good mercy of those around you, but it's also this impulse that will steal your time, energy and mental, physical and spiritual health.

When you start being yourself in your life—completely, with joy, interest and commitment—not everyone will be ready to find you in this place of pure sincerity.

That doesn't mean that you have to change who you are; or play yourself down to suit the judgements projected onto you by those who do not care. It just means you have to stop bothering with people who don't want to love you yet.

The truth is that you're not for everyone.

And that not everyone is for you.

The most valuable and most important thing you have in your life is your energy.

When you realize this, you start to understand why you become impatient with people who don't suit you, and in activities, places, situations which don't suit you.

You're starting to realize that the most important thing you can do for your life, for yourself and for everyone you know, is to protect your energy stronger than anything.

Turn your life into a safe sanctuary where only people who are truly compatible with you are allowed.

It's not your job to exist for people and give them your life, little by little, moment after moment.

Decide you deserve only true and equitable friendship.

Then take a moment to notice how things are beginning to change."

Sunday, October 4, 2020

China Fragile



Her heart is made of fine china porcelain
The love she feels is pure white
Her wounds spread, indigo blue, across the surface.
Sometimes,
she stands absolutely still in the middle of her sphere 
she can listen the world flowing outside her window
a river of noise and people 
coming and going 

She cannot stand the noise
nor the people 
nor the souls...

Then comes the rain
penetrating every little corner of her dream,
slowly drowning it into a deep sea of thoughts 
that they never seem right,
and they never seem wrong.
-What a mess, she whispers,
what a waste of life...

And then comes the funny part where she vows to start anew
to start living
to stop loving
to stop trusting
just to stop...
to stop...
to stop... 

After the rain ends
she remembers 
many years ago
how she have broken those vows
again
But the thing is, 
that the Now is waving to her from behind the crimson curtains
    wrapped in bandages made of the same mistakes 
--the only thing you repeat is the mistakes, 
you see. 
She feels sorry for her Then,
that once was  her Now.
Again, however, 
is at the door
smiling and waving
out

So she gives up 
and she follows
pretending
that she haven't heard 
and she haven't noticed
that last faded crack
of her fine
 china heart... 


Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Words.

Betrayed, by Lorenza Dona (c)



I sleep holding your pillow tight
the night arround me unfolds in thick waves of sorrow
I breath your lies, keeping them in the bed
where we became one then...
I can't forget and i can't remember
I keep my eyes closed because ghosts are coming 
and dreams freeze cutting my eyelids.
Your touch on my body still
scars bleeding memories, yet --
"i do love you" is still in my ears...
vows were for you just empty words
words words words...
Ghosts are coming. 
I thought you were telling the truth
I was. I was. I was.
Ghosts are coming
Your smile is piercing right through the walls
How easy it is to forget...
Judas preferred a kiss.
Now your eyes into mine
now your hands on my back
now you inside me
I wake up and its 2 am
I wake up and my body hurts
I need to sleep again
I need to sleep the whole day
because night haunts me 
like your last kiss
like your kiss, Judas... 

Lies.

Image by jacqueline macou from Pixabay 

There is no special reason why people do tell lies to each other. A lie is the easy way for someone to have his own way of life without the need to give reasons to others. There are all sorts of lies, a huge variation, indeed: white ones, small ones, big ones, soft ones, hard ones, all of them, without any exception, have as their final target only ourselves. We lie to the people we love the most, because we think that they, because of their love to us, will believe our story more easily and more efficiently. We lie to others, in order that our ego becomes safe, unharmed, locked. We lie because we dont want anyone to take a look deep inside our souls. We lie because we just want to have all the benefits and no emotional obligations or reciprocation. We lose the ones we love, the only people that care about us, because when we manipulate them to believe our side of the story or when we construct some of it, we are not telling the truth. But the irony of the matter is, that we don't want others to lie to us.

 How do you detect a liar? Straight from the heart, and straight from the start. Instinct tells you that someone who says "I love you" but reality shows otherwise, is telling you a lie. Because, by saying a lie, one can be sure that no one will bother him and ask for any details in the first place. A lie, is the easy way to have our peace of mind, to have our space secure, to taste things that we couldn't  if we have said the truth. Because truth, brings along with it something that is called responsibility for our feelings and actions.

 Every lie is beautiful. Is the truth that we want to live, but we can't. Is the man or woman we want to be with, but we can't. Is the life we want to live, but we never will because we are cowards and we are scared to show our true self. Every lie is a piece of the happiness we are craving for, but that is elusive and so far away from us. Every lie, is a kind of pain killer of the soul. You take it, and the pain seems to go away, at least for some time. And when the energy of the pill wears off, the pain is there again, stronger, deeper, tormenting and tearing as apart bit by bit, until we can't stand it any longer.

 There is no special reason why people do tell lies to each other. Some say it is in the human nature to lie and make excuses about almost everything that it is disturbing or ugly or just not so much fun to face it in the eye. Because truth hurts. Because truth doesn't set you free, after all...