Ας έρθει πια η νύχτα σου...

Από μια ρωγμή στην καρδιά μου

εισέβαλες γεμάτος αστέρια

κι αστρόσκονη

δεν μπόρεσα να σε σταματήσω

και τώρα περιδινούμαι

σε τροχιά γύρω σου

σαν λαμπερός δορυφόρος

σε μοιραία σύγκρουση

Ας έρθει, 

Ας έρθει πια η νύχτα σου η αγαπημένη

να λάμπουμε μαζί...

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...

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»

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?...

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.

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.

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."

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... 

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...