Κυριακή, 25 Οκτωβρίου 2009

Crème Goût Amer Anglaise


To pen a thought of poverty is poor
To grudge against humanity is horror!

Fighting for goals constitutes myriads of canned food
Getting out of your "village" leaves the crowds in their noose

Castration of the masses for the ideal dream
Impalement of fascination for the working tranquility

Madames and Monsieurs strolling around the guillotine
Former presidents elect their Bills in Hell's pits

Growing to dream and hope only strangles the morality of the plebes
Performance of a false sensation blurs the reality of political thieves

No postal bird to carry the messages of hope across
Only boiled water for the poor whose eyes are gauged

Driven mad by imagination of words in verse
Manifestation of utopian glories create a dead human crest

Logic, we were given by the force of the Milky Way
Thank the Lord we use it to cheat, steal and murder our promiscuity away

Hysteria of laughter numbs our utopian pain
Giving our minds the chance to accept their burning

Culture of Europeanism flatters me in sleep
Waking up into the Western fatalism makes me wonder...
....what the hell are we?!?

Ρωγμή


Κουφός εν τη ερήμο εθεάθηκε.
Μαραμένο ζωντανό αποπλανήστηκε.
Μπροστά σε ανθρώπινα λόγια, εγκατάλειψε...
Τυφλός εγύρισε στην όαση της απιστίας.

Ένιωσε τη σιγή να τρέμει στα πόδια του
Φοβήθηκε για μια μόνο στιγμή τη μοίρα του
Όλα τα γιατί νεφέλη έγιναν στα χέρια του
Μάθημα δολοφονίας η κακία πορεία του.

Μάτια σφαλμένα τον έσπρωξαν στα άδυτα
Κόλπα ζεστά εμπαίζουν τη λογική του Παπά
Θεός τον επροσκάλεσε σε ματωμένο δείπνο
Μεραρχία δόγματος να του δώσει σε αλλουνού τον ύπνο

Φιλίες εθεάθησαν να παλεύουν τρομαχτικά στα υπόγεια
Κούκλες χαρωπές να κρέμονται σε ισόβια
Βιασμός μιας ψυχής να εξελίσσεται στα πανάκριβα μπαλκόνια
...Και να που βλέπει ένα γιατί να ξεπροβάλει ακόμα...

Η πίστη σαν εχάθηκε στα χείλη της άσπρη μάγισσας
Φώναξε πιο δυνατά, πως η αγάπη δε λύγισε ακόμα
Καθώς η εξουσία διασκεδάζει στα ανώτερα
Η φιλία παραμιλά για δόξες με αναπηρική ανεπάρκεια.

Mother, oh, Mother!


Mother, oh, Mother!

General vexation for the warmth of the taxation
Public education disrupts the system's affirmation

Laws of nature have gone down with an endless flu
Grandmothers of war have died without a clue

Hope was left at the bottom of Pandora's Box
For centuries humanity fights for the divine Horse

Mother, mother!, save us please...
Reap the ground and take us in

Wing up your embrace to the north
Forgive our disability of thought

Whilst Masters eat their golden food
The warms in the gutter simply eat their boots

Spare us all the theories of the One
When the belly speaks nothing is heard but its survival

Erase the smiles of dust
For they lead you on like a fat cat

Degradation of action puts the universe in halt
The galaxy will flee from our salvaged world...

Mother, mother!, console us please...
Spare us from harlatism and barbarism in our dreams

Plead our case to the arraignment of Chaos
Turn our guilt into a horrible mistake of pathos

You cry blood, and we merely abandon...
For absolution we shall have garbage and meltdown.

Within the Light of this Life we starve
For random human dreams we struggle till we rot

Resurrection of our kind is unavoidable
Desperation rules from our youthful call

Hope leaves us half empty and half full
By the time we grow old, the Bubble will have turned to Blue!

"Weep not my Children of Destruction", you shall chime
To your feet we'll lean for another day in the infinite time...

Crossing Over


The Bank is chasing me...
Money is unkind and cold...they have been for a while
My bees died a long ago, and draught draws me back.
The heat seems like a dazzling dream now.
Suppression offers me its sweet caress.
What is a youth? How should I be bold for them?

I was never a hero, nor ever will be.
All my medallions have turned to little ashes.
My bloody eyes have so much hate, anger...pain.

All friends vanish when possession takes over.
All friends yearn for freedom.
Friends with no strings attached.
Small mistakes that end in entrapment of heart.

Life leads in the reality of imprisonment...
Freedom is a state of mind...like peace.

Love is un-existable.
Passion can rule two bodies.
Tenderness can rule a mother and a babe.

Fathers neglect the happiness of the small fetus...
Mothers feel the bond to their eternal grave.

And I still stand alone.
On that mountain...
Gazing on the grey shadows.
Degraded for my forged desires.
Blazing my divine pleas...

St Peter looks at me and answers full of bewilderment:
"As if the welcome would soften your pain,
As if life would exist in your human mind again,
Weep my child, and accept with no words to meddle your heart.
Embrace the human judgment, betray it and win it!
Come in, my lonely child..."

I go in...
With no words,
With no sorrow and with no empathy.

I envy the dary, the tolerant and the obscure.
I pity the lowly, the lewd and the unsure!

Fly me now; fly me on your bicycle...
Steel me up...bury me down.

Freeze my silver stars
Burn this clown!

Σάββατο, 17 Οκτωβρίου 2009

Ode to Draculia


Did you try sending me tears?
Did you find the courage to whisper?

Were you blind when I was dying...?
What happened when the monsters were eating me alive?

What did you do when Fire Feasted
on my transparent soul?

I gasped and you turned away
I looked and your back froze with my pain

Unbequethed love...
Unwanted obsession
Furious madness of secret confession

Oh! How you love me sweet Charon,
How you sip the drinks from my delectable flesh

Flow inside me like red water
Nurture me like a first-born rose

Fluidity rises and falls
Spurn me, my love, no, no more!

Upon this last hour of yours...
Treat me tenderly,
Like I was the one that gave you your first breath!

No more woeful songs...
My promise is thy Bible.

My love is your death.
Your life, is mine.

Τετάρτη, 14 Οκτωβρίου 2009

Pablo Neruda - Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines...Read by Andy Garcia

Three Syllables of Desperation


Three Syllables of Desperation

What if my dreams are all become of water

What if my passion is all translated in words

What if my fire burns my human entourage

What if this life of mine was a mistake all along?


The mirror no longer recognizes me...

The air withers my youthful face

...the river carries my tired ideals away

And diving is all that is left in me...


Europe passes through my wanton eyes

Longing for pleasurable work crying out in the night

Poetry flowing through my promiscuous veins

And blunders of anger management destroying all friends


Not a guided star shines in my sky

Grey rain circling the bus which distributes my life

Cockroach gasping for a hopeful air

Looking for holes to flight with no care


ATM my life's become

Consumerism looks at me like a powerful cat

Capitalism handles me like an indifferent mouse

With the black luck haunting me no chance I'll find a spouse


No golden rings nor any sapphires this Christmas

Only human spit and three colas on my whiskies

My warm memory of pink imagination has turned to purple

But there...

...There shines the light of a dawn, again, oh! So dreadful...