The Unescapable

Filled with a wild curiosity
we stole through the dusk
looking for
a glimpse of fairyland
in the silver rays of the moon
as the mist cleared away
for the first early
golden sunbeam
we found
there is no escape from
growing out
of your childhood.


Who Can Say?

What I am by this time who can say?
The longed-for being
The condition of the interesting child
The dissensions thereby occasioned
The worst of the age
Whatever I am
I’m determined to make
the most of
my roguish

P.S. This morn on thee laid no small miracle.
P.P.S. Και είναι σαν να μου το απευθύνει το τραγούδι ο George Michael αλλά πού να τον ακούσει το μυαλό, λείπουν οι λοβοί στις απολήξεις.

Feels Like..

Κρεβάτι στρωμένο.
Σπίτι καθαρό.
Φαγητό ζεστό.
Ο γάτος στην πόρτα.
Στους 28 βαθμούς το θερμόμετρο.
Άνθρωποι που αγαπώ σε απόσταση αναπνοής.
Εκκρεμότητες και υποσχέσεις. Το ίδιο ποθητές, το ίδιο βαρύνουσες.
Feels like home to me.

Υ.Γ. Τώρα ήρθε το καλοκαίρι.

Never is a Promise

I remember myself voicelessly shouting that the dream was wrong.

I was still young and I knew it all
And among all these beliefs I knew what lurked
In the end, regardless of who would bring it.

I remember myself claiming that the hair was not exactly dark.
That you had to be too close to see the green in the eyes.
I remember claiming, claiming, claiming
Claiming that I would throw what you gave me into the ocean.
Out of all the sea that surrounded me, the ocean. Even if then I knew why, I wouldn’t
still remember it.

Centuries later, I bring you to mind now and then.
And you are of those that I gladly recall.
There are people who crave nightmares
And as I was then a clumsy evil,
I smile that I was thankfully over.

I remember your fall
It was the first time that I ever witnessed it
With no one to blame really but the nature of things
And without strain, regret or bewilderment (I am lying here)
I catch myself smiling.

In a world where dreams were right
It would be peculiar, something as delicate as you
To be the symbol of a truth so great.
But in the world I live in, your curvy lines
You hair that was not exactly dark
Or your eyes that had you look into them closely to emit their green
Remind, without fear
That after the wake of each dream
Follows the morning visit to the toilet.

I threw your forgotten gift into my ocean
One of the days when I was entering my new house
And this time I was not smiling
And so many lives later, I made yet another wish
A wish that you had taught me something less
A wish that you had awoken me before I learned how to dream
The wrong.

But it is coming back to my lips
The tight smile of truth
That regardless of its repetition never gets numb

Why the hell did I drag you down with me?

P.S. Precious things may also deserve a lousy end.