Yells spreading
to the infinity
of the room
easily driving
at the coasts of the wall
the room expands
under the sky-reaching
commands of the audience
thirsty for spectacle
I always knew it
that this struggle
with myself
wouldn’t hit a happy end.
but I stay drunk yet
on success

Which triumphs
which victories
which laughter
which song

heart is shrinking
into the abyss
and I don’t know
the address

long freeways
sacrifice my breath
time passages
expand my moments
into their huge crypts

I’m wondering
if a handful
of words
can change
our minds

I’m wondering
if a so tiny phrase
can practice
a catalytic impact
on our lives

If so
I’m asking
those below
to get rid
of those above

We are not capable
of taking the path
to our dreams
those show our course

that is to say,
we are made of feelings
dominating
our heart’s buildings

our laughters’ maelstroms
made by lesions
we lose them carelessly
but revealed again
in our being.

Universe is anarchic
And us revolutionaries
indomitable protagonists
of continuous overthrows
passionate pioneers of
unions of omnipotence
striving to neutralise
any tragedy
by betting to the future
since the fields of the past
have fertile sown
discoordinating wood languages
refusing to adulthood
unfolding our poetry
to lengths and widths
by soft caresses
caressing our proclamations
our shine causing
an immense floodlight
and the reflections become
property of everyone
in the moonlight

*The original in Greek is here https://tokoskino.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=13425&action=edit

Pejac, Heavy Sea Watercolor

Circumstances
squeezing me
organise a feast
of terror
in my soul
made me passing out
as a free skeleton
paraded in fields
of fury and hastiness
as in a litany
shadows of human errors
hanged in magazine stalls
announced from papersellers
or trumpets of pseudo-triumphs
of everyday life

you are as landscape that slowly-slowly changes
and radiates in the beams of the sun
or twinkles in the drops of the rain,
as if walking on sand of a volcano
as a strange clump that penetrates
the internal craters of the heart
where I run to them to hide…

I want to see entirely your figure
inside my upsetting hours,
waiting for your shade,
as a lightened drop from a sunshine,
as an uneasy song in the window blinds,
as the light of the candle in a fluid space,
as a string magic and free,
your caress to bloom on dry almond trees
in various iridescence to unroll…

Your eyes aren’t getting dark in my thought
and with all the pomegranates of the year
I’m waiting for your laughter
as my world is transformed
by one of your glances and a say…
into magnetic aspects which make different
our forms in sounds
from bells of stars…

I got tired of my spirit to be incompetent
as a tormenting neurotic process
in between lies and truths.
I don’t want anymore to become a prisoner
of a charm so much mysterious
that is evaporated in a few minutes…
I don’t want anymore to live moments
near in the hysteria
and the world to unfold around me
as one ungrateful conspiracy.
I will not wait for a invisible future anymore
neither will succumb in the imminent deaths
as another absolute form of roaming.
I want now the journey in
the enchanting depth of your pictures.
I want now to undermine the directness
of ridiculous heart-breaking aspects
of this exiled life
that exists only as a ghost.
I want now the wind to blow
in the sails of the people
and impenetrable surfaces to cross.
Suppressing the order of things
leading them to the ataxia,
chasing away the sordid masks
of alienation and decay…

Come to free our souls
break the chains which have us
prisoners in stakes of morality,
stripped naked towards liberating lights,
under the leaves of the Autumn
before the thunderstorms catch us …

I see you beyond the borders
in worlds without cries of despair,
touching the clouds of the night,
raising tightly in our hands in the harmonies,
embraced to resist
in the maelstroms will come…

*Translated by Dimitris Troaditis. Edited by Angela Costi.
**The Greek original is here: https://tokoskino.wordpress.com/2011/02/10/%CF%84%CE%BF-%CF%86%CF%89%CF%82-%CF%84%CE%BF%CF%85-%CE%BA%CE%B5%CF%81%CE%B9%CE%BF%CF%8D/

here in the southern
ends of the earth
winds eavesdrop
our breaths

here in the vast
expanses
of smooth
summers playing hide and seek
with the clouds

here in the monotonous
cries of gray
our madness
is ascending
to a highest level

*Translation from Greek: Dimitris Troaditis.

technological pigs
flying over the bridges
of our mind
dirty mess
smiling over
ourselves
as we cry
at midnights