Pink Floyd - Wot's...Uh the Deal?

Remember

Remember me when I am gone
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no longer hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to councel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

by Christina Rossetti

Like a Child

Everyone wants to feel like a child once again. Once grown up, once aware of all the things you realize that as a child you weren't aware of, you miss your innocence, your purity as a kid.

Remember those days were you could sit in the sun with friends and do the silliest things and play the silliest games and don't think or don't care about anything? Remember those blissful moments were nothing could touch you...even if something bad happen life seemed to go on a lot smoother than it does now.

I love my knowledge. I love the fact that now I can look at something and does make sense to me, one way or another...but in a hidden, darker corner of my heart I would be a liar if I didn't admit how I miss this innocence I had as a child. When I could play for hours in the front yard and I could sing and dance without feeling self-conscious, when I could express myself just like I wanted to without getting criticised or scolded or even frowned upon. I miss thinking that the world was just a gigantic maze of goodness, with people who want to make it all better, with people who hate depravity and fight for their dreams and ideals. I miss looking at boys and not thinking "oh he wants to fuck me" but I miss thinking "oh my god! maybe he wants us to be boyfriend and girlfriend!"

What happened to those days? And why does everything matter in such a big unexplainable way now? Why can't I surpass my cynicism, that suspicion in every friend and in every man I meet? Why does it always have to be like I feel that someone either wants to take advantage of me, break my heart, cheat on me (either professionally or emotionally), and disappoint me somehow? Is it always going to be like that from now on? And how much do I value this sense of my knowledge now, knowing that from now onwards life's always going to be filled with feelings of corruption, betrayal, disappointment, numbness, compromise, guilt and an eternal sorrow and depression which it won't go away?!?

"To feel like a child,
And stare up at the sky,
To bang the clouds with your imagination
And tolerate no provocation.
To hold the sunbeams with closed eyes
And wear no disguise,
To grasp the flowery odours with your nostrils
And paint yourself a portrait of nature full of rainbows.
To lie at your back with worries locked in a chest,
To capture the sound of the chirping birds.
To let innocence shine at your smile,
To feel warm with no lies to hide.
When will this feeling come again,
Why must it have gone away before it ever begun..."

Can we undo all this awareness once we grow up, can we just be adults in the society we were taught to survive and still try to hold on to those glimpses of our "days in the sun"?! Can we keep the images of fairies, miracles and dreams alive in a dead world, where everyone seems to be harrying away, seems too busy to care or spare a second to appreciate natural, instinctive feelings?!

How can I go back to falling in love with life again...when life itself seems to be kicking me in the nuts without doing anything harmful or socially bad?

Why can't I be a child still in a grown-up's body, without feeling ashamed or wrong for it? Why can't I feel like a child again without taking everything so seriously?
Why do we have to take anything so seriously...is it just because we have to?

All I know is that I know nothing...the more I know the more I realize how little I know...how much more little I would like to know...how little I am...how little I would like to be once again...

Wanting and not Having

Sad...

Yes...it is sad when you have loved someone at some point in your life and you could not express it, you could not look them in the eye, for numerous reasons, and say those words which by impulse they come natural to you.

“Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.” - Anonymous

A very good "I want him/her but I can't have him/her" quote. Don't you just hate that feeling when it happens to you? Wanting someone you simply cannot have for one reason or another?!?

I hate that feeling. And everytime it happens to me I hate myself for feeling this way. I hate having the feeling of unrequited "love", of this unrequited longing of wanting someone so much, that you think you'll burst if something else, something better doesn't come along.

The thing is to stay positive and go on. Be an optimist, even when you're not feeling like one.

Believing in people, still, even though you have been hurt so much that you think you don't have the time, the energy and the psychological strength to get hurt again...to try again.

But that feeling...the "wanting and not having" feeling has to be eliminated.

"In order to receive, you must find inner satisfaction.
Attract what you want to attract."

This wanting has got to stop. This sharp pain you feel when you see someone, when you speak to someone you want to suffocate with words of love and abundance when your paths cross...this feeling has to be stopped.

A vile feeling...insatiable feeling! I keep thinking that I won't feel it again, and maybe, maybe this time it will be different and I won't belong in the category of "wanting-and-not-having"... but everytime it seems I'm becoming one of the oldest members of that category.

Call me crazy, call me whinny, call me what you will. I hate the "unrequited feeling".

So many poets, artists, songwriters etc were influenced by this feeling to create. But I bet you, the moment they were feeling that they wanted someone that they simply couldn't have, they hated the fact that besides all life's other injustices, this is the cruellest injustice being done to them, because in love nothing and no one is in control...its like a pendulum hanging in the universe this thing....called love.

I'm not here to talk about "love" though. I'm here to talk about "wanting and not having". And to ask why does it have to happen over and over again, and when is it going to be my turn to finally have what or whom I desire, and why can't he/she love me or see that light in my eyes, feel this sense of belonging to them when I'm with them or talk to them?

Unrequited feeling...wanting and not having....

Many will say..."Boooo, you're such a pessimist."

I really am not. Not really. I think deep down I'm more of a cynic and a romantic together, than I am a pessimist. And even if your "universe" attracts finally someone into your arms, a different person than you were planning in the first place, there' still going to be that feeling that, 'yes, ok, i got someone in my life, but I never got that someone, my someone'.

So, the question remains....why can't I, for once, just once, have the one "I can't have"? Why do I have to want the one I can't have?






You can't Lose what you Neve Had by Westlife

Little Viennese Waltz

In Vienna there are ten little girls
a shoulder for death to cry on
and a forest of dried pigeons.
There is a fragment of tomorrow
in the museum of winter frost.
There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this close-mouthed waltz.

Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz,
of itself, of death, and of brandy
that dips its tail in the sea.

I love you, I love you, I love you,
with the armchair and the book of death
down the melancholy hallway,
in the iris's dark garret,
in our bed that was once the moon's bed,
and in that dance the turtle dreamed of.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this broken-waisted waltz

In Vienna there are four mirrors
in which your mouth and the echoes play.
There is a death for piano
that paints the little boys blue.
There are beggars on the roof.
There are fresh garlands of tears.

Aye, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that dies in my arms.

Because I love you, I love you, my love,
in the attic where children play,
dreaming ancient lights of Hungary
through the noise, the balmy afternoon,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
through the dark silence of your forehead.

Ay, ay, ay ay!
Take this "I will always love you" waltz.

In Vienna I will dance with you
in a costume with a river's head.
See how the hyacinths line my banks!
I will leave my mouth between your legs,
my soul in photographs and lilies,
and in the dark wake of your footsteps,
my love, my love, I will have to leave
violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons.


~Frederico Garcia Lorca~

Take this Waltz

Take This Waltz
(After Lorca)

Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women.
There's a shoulder where death comes to cry.
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows.
There's a tree where the doves go to die.
There's a piece that was torn from the morning,
and it hangs in the Gallery of Frost --
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.

I want you, I want you, I want you
on a chair with a dead magazine.
In the cave at the tip of the lily,
in some hallway where love's never been.
On a bed where the moon has been sweating,
in a cry filled with footsteps and sand --
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take its broken waist in your hand.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
with its very own breath
of brandy and death,
dragging its tail in the sea.

There's a concert hall in Vienna
where your mouth had a thousand reviews.
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking,
they've been sentenced to death by the blues.
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
with a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz, it's been dying for years.

There's an attic where children are playing,
where I've got to lie down with you soon,
in a dream of Hungarian lanterns,
in the mist of some sweet afternoon.
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow,
all your sheep and your lilies of snow --

Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
with its "I'll never forget you, you know!"

And I'll dance with you in Vienna,
I'll be wearing a river's disguise.
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
my mouth on the dew of your thighs.
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
with the photographs there and the moss.
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty,
my cheap violin and my cross.
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
to the pools that you lift on your wrist --
O my love, O my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
it's yours now. It's all that there is.

~Leonard Cohen~

Take this Waltz - Leonard Cohen (Lorca)

My Boy...

I had one of those dreams again last night. You know; those dreams that take your breath away once awoken and you wish you’d never woken up. One of those dreams, which even after you’re in the world of consciousness you still feel warm and tender and sweet, like some peaceful aura is still surrounding you. I’m sure that many women will relate to my dream; some others may not.


“I dreamed of love; it was night and I dreamed that I was staying at a cousin’s house out of town. The house was quiet and his housemates were all occupied either with online gaming and chatting or reading for next day’s classes. The serene atmosphere of the apartment was suddenly interrupted by the Landlord; one of those hard-core ladies, full of muscle and suspicion, she entered the apartment enquiring who had been visiting the apartment for the last couple of days. Of course that someone was referring to me, as no more tenants were allowed in the apartment. I remember my heart racing in the dream as I stumbled here and there in the apartment, pretending to be cleaning the space of the kitchen in silence, in a desperate effort to show obedience and good behaviour. I knew that that wouldn’t cut it, but still I scrubbed on. As soon as the lady left, the room filled with a large number of my cousin’s friends; among them was the unknown boy of my dreams who stole my heart. I hadn’t seen him before, but as soon as I walked into the room, I could see his wilful eyes, his wondering smile casting a shadow upon me, trying to “figure” me out. Me, a firm believer that there is not love at first sight, was caught! All of a sudden my dream changed pace, rhythm and tone. It became a chase. My cousin and all of his friends (boys and girls who were in the apartment with us) were on the run, to get away from that space, from the Landlord lady, to get away from “our lives”, I know not…the important thing is that we were on the run, for unknown reasons, but we were running. On our way we found solace on a bus which I can distinctly remember it would carry us out of town, to an old place of mine, where I used to stay long before I had met any of the people I was with. On the bus, I was sitting at the far back trying to calm my nerves out of all this tension, out of all this madness which did not make any sense to me, why we were the bad ones since we did not do anything wrong in the first place. It was then, through all my shaking and all my fear that something warm touched me; literally. It was the hand of that boy. He was sitting beside me, not saying anything, while everybody stared at us, and he put his hand in mine. He didn’t speak a word, but rather looked at me, smiled at me and then looked ahead. We stayed there for a long time till it was time we got off the bus, and be on the run again, to find that place. I remember the feeling; the feeling that everybody knew that what had developed within an hour between me and him, was something warm, it was something pure, sweet, something I hadn’t felt since I was a little girl. Such an innocent feeling for someone else, which touched me like nothing in the last few years. It was honest and true. We got off and everybody started running again. What I distinctly recall is that he even held my hand through numerous steps we had to climb, through fences and through crossroads and junctions. We were moving ahead of the group until we found ourselves in a big crossing. It happened that me and him crossed the junction first, whilst the others were held behind. He was getting tense as well, but he didn’t let go of my hand once. He lit up a cigarette; he’d offer me one before as well, but I refused. This time I did not. I could not. With all that running and chasing, I was feeling like my heart was going to pop out of my chest, I grabbed the cigarette and breathed the smoke in such passion that before I even let the smoky air come out of my lungs, he leaned over and kissed me. His grip now became tight, like he didn’t want to let me go as if not to lose me. The air I didn’t manage to exhale, I exhaled it in him, while he gave me his, in the most innocent, gentle kiss I had ever had in a dream. His warmth was now surrounding me. I was left speechless, breathless, scare-less. It was just a moment, and yet it felt like an eternity of time stretching in that single heartbeat. The rest of the group had now crossed the junction and having seen “our moment” they urged us to just keeping going, due to lack of time. We started running again until we got to another big junction trying to find our way through the night which by now has started to rain quite heavily. We tried to cross the junction, this time with a sudden encounter from a massive lorry that didn’t notice us in the dark and was heading towards us. Just before tragedy hit our group, we managed to make the man in the lorry notice us and stop, split seconds before an unwanted fatal accident occured. Still, the boy did not let go of me. This time, his hand was firm, tight and he grabbed my waist every chance he could, as if frightened that if he didn’t hold me, I would be left behind and be gone from him forever. No man in all my conscious life has ever offered me that sort of protection; like I was like an ancient piece of pearl, trying to save me from the harms of the outside world, trying to hold on to me like an invaluable treasure he could not afford to lose. After our encounter with the lorry driver, we managed to hop on to the right bus that would take us to the house we were all looking for; somewhere safe, quiet and peaceful, with no one to chase us anymore, and no one to define us with their rules and regulations. After a short drive, the house came in sight. The joy in everyone’s face was simply indescribable. Like we had reached our haven, our comfort, our protected area. We got off the bus and headed for the house. Just before I entered the house, since I had to be the first to go in, being the only one who had the keys to the house, I had to let go of his hand. Before I did, he softly whispered to me; “I’ll be right behind you.”, and then he smiled. I slowly moved away from him and tried the keys, letting everyone in one by one. He stayed behind. At this point I was not in the scene, but I could clearly see in my dream what went down. I saw that my boy stayed outside the house with another male from the group and they were talking really intensely. I remember that they were talking about me, about who was going to be in my bed that night. I remember my boy bragging that “since you’re the one she loves and you want to have her bed now that you’ve seen she’s all loved-up, I am not going to let you have her. If you want her, I want her too, and we’ll see in whose bed she’s going to end up tonight.” Even though myself was not present physically in the dream during this conversation, I knew what was said between them, I knew that all the sweet emotions that had carried me through so far, had now gone and they were replaced by feelings of anger, disappointment and betrayal. I refused to believe that my boy could see me as something to be won, like a prize to be had…Indeed I was a treasure, of the wrong kind though. Not the kind, that I want you because you fill in the gaps in my life that could never be filled, but a treasure of who will have the most glittering prize to show off to the rest of the world. And that’s when….my dad woke me up.


Now, I have to admit that I have been watching back to back episodes from Prison Break (it’s the first time I actually sat down to watch all seasons together) and all this chasing and running might be affected from this. But my boy is not. I was sad I woke up, since I didn’t get to see what would go down after that, which boy would end up winning me, if they’d win me at all. Obviously both boys considered me “worthy” enough to have me, but I knew that as soon as they did it would mostly be over for them, whilst for me the case was somewhat different; obviously from the last words of my boy I cared for another member of the group deeply, but as yet nothing had happened, and when the other guy saw me with my boy he obviously could not handle any form of competition, even if the prize did not interest him that much, he just had to have it. What I distinctly remember after the dream though, was that warmth, that feeling of my boy that he showed me with no questions asked as soon as he saw me when I had entered the room of the apartment. I remember that I miss that feeling, which I haven’t felt in my conscious world ever since I was in early junior high school years; that feeling that someone cares for me flawlessly, selflessly, with no agenda and no ulterior motives (i.e. sexual hunger, showing off etc), with nothing to gain from having me in his life, in his arms, in his bed. I remember that all those “pure” and “warm” feelings I had experienced in my dream, is all a mere illusion in the conscious world. Feelings like that are fleeting, I know it. And yet, my unconscious world seeks them, yearns for them and still believes that there are feelings like that somewhere out there. My unconscious still has hope for my boy…

Untitled

Infamy has walked in the fields of gold
Infirmity has painted the red streaks of life

Black sunny weathers rising in the East
Sanguine firmaments being born with no words

Locked up in the Universe a toddler’s laugh remains
Amongst the shadows a ray of Light awaits

All perished and weathered now make an Entrance
From paths Unknown the Silver souls play with Penitence

Oh, Beloved my Mother! Give thy aid to us….
Blow us up with courage’s Will and royalty’s Might

Piece of Soul

Dive in the Alley
Empty thy Dark Luggage
Hope for another Hollow dream
Lock thy eyes for the Longing myth

No matter how deeply in love or out of love you might think you’ve fallen, it is merely your human vanity reflecting on the other person’s feelings. I felt this sadness…this emptiness in my fingers, this weakness in my knees. I felt the sadness of watching that someone, my someone, my potential someone, to stare into another’s eyes and light up…I felt this emptiness that asphyxiates me every time I want to utter words of romance, words of blasphemy, words of sweet illusion…every time I am tempted to honey my someone up, I encounter a glorious bolder and then….a cliff…my cliff…that tells me that HE is not mine…that tells me that no one will ever be mine…and that all the people who truly love me are unjustly away from me…


I hate this weakness in the knees…I hate this addiction of an imperfect nothingness…being strapped upon an empty island with no survival kit…I hate having to suffocating insidious jokes just to get by…I hate being angry in the injustice around me…I hate wanting…and not having…I hate being made to choose when I do not wish to…I hate being forced to act when I don’t want to…


My heart is half…one big part of it had to be sacrificed for survival…a big part of it had to be kept away for selfishness…my heart is half…

“Women were not made to woo but to be wooed”…the fellow said. Women were made be toys in the puritanical ethics of the patriarchal society. They were made to be subjected to humiliation, degradation, lies, treason, adultery, betrayal…Women were made for the male’s sport…Nothing but to feast upon…Woman has conquered nothing since HER dawn…but controls everything human! I pity those who are unfortunate enough to exist in this era…for nothing will ever, nor ever, will change till this world is shuttered to pieces into the Divine unknown…

I long for a lover's touch to softly caress me in the wee hours…I long for my second psyche to stroke my mind in the eternal hours of my human life…someday all this will end…and I shall feel no more…

Confession of an Aristocratic Whore

Confession of an Aristocratic Whore

Dismemberment of life
Grant of no grace in our gutters
Sedated happiness in unreal words
Pitiful kings lie in human secrets

Allegiance of a false power to govern us all
Unrest of a restored mob
Riots in the pavements of glory’s past
The age of miracle has long passed

Anarchy pours in the isles of greed
Retirement of unpassionate parades storm in
Balck petals flow in an ethnicity’s battlements
And a white tiger waits to rule, in sin!

Emerald stones will take their course
In power and lust they shutter mankind’s fall
My Charles, how loathsome thy shape has gone
Thy eternal youth in blood they yield below

Decapitation of the phony rat has come
A lonely council kneels in Divinity
Forgotten poison lurks between the alleys
A Father’s Love and a Son’s Pride

Why let be bygone be bygone for a low blow whistle
The affairs of the Crown are hanged for one whisky lust
A thirst of hedonism to rule my Rebels
The vowed Throne be filled with ashy treasures

My Bathory sulks in the corridors of Youth
Eyeing atrocities of guilt to decorate the rotten Truth
Defy the Glorious luxury of gilded cages
Bury this Puritanism in obscurity of negligence

To thee, dark spirit thy minions dwell
To thee, creation has humankind bled
Thy scheme has already be perceived
Thy Myth of Decadence shall eternally live!

Dear Dark Stranger

Dear Dark Stranger,

We met but scattered moments and I instantly knew you were going to play a much more significant part in my life than I had hoped you would. Do not mistake this words for a mere personal vanity, but simply as an assessment of feelings ahead that should be trimmed down and put aside for the progression of our course. You represent everything I had wished I could avoid in coming back to my native land. However the carefree branch of your thoughts and actions, I must admit I found a great difficulty in accepting such an overwhelming idealism from a person who seeks to avoid so many experiences in life. You are swarmed by a light glow of darkness, an image which makes your sensitivity all the more appealing to my cynical views. No such words are to be uttered in public, as we are both very much aware that the situation cannot be helped, as it is not of a mutual point of view. I am sure that by now, you probably do not comprehend a word of what I so bashfully express on paper, but I shall try to be clearer; having battled with my mind and my heart, I have come to the conclusion that you could potentially make me fall…into an unwanted passionate love. This is not something I gracefully pursue, especially at this point in my life, as indeed life’s thrown me in a crossroads and being focussed on my future plans is of the utmost importance to me. Every person in their life is encircled by two things; their needs and their wants. I am your former in this instance. It is a great pity that most people do not take any great interest in their needs but instead they seek so passionately for their wants, which ultimately leads them to a dead-end. For me, unfortunately you are the latter. A want I cannot pursue at this point in my life, as indeed I embody vanity at this stage, since I am in search for professional progression. You, my dark stranger, embody a want I simply cannot pursue given my current situation. You are potentially everything I have so longed for, but which unfortunately arrived too little too late. A potentially great love that arrived at the wrong time, in the wrong place. My intentions are to keep things between us as is; be merely pleasant acquaintances and avoid any contraction of emotional interchange, as that would make matters all the more difficult and unpleasant for both parties. Indeed, in another world, we potentially might have been the mythic embodiment of a great long mad affair. We do know though, how myths turn out in this world¬; unwanted and filled with hatred for their “glorified” imagination. Such are the feelings battling inside me this period. No matter how much I long for attention and a sip of your lust to be directed to me, no matter if in my heart I know that what you require is patience and understanding, something which I could so willingly offer under different circumstances of course, no matter if you might be the single person in this god forsaken place who can make me believe again into something beautiful, even though all this can happen in a potential union of us, things will never unfold the way we hoped them to. That is our greatest tragedy; the possibility to live something so breathtakingly glorious but which will never happen because of human vanity and unnatural fear of jumping off the cliff called unknown.

One once upon a night....

insanity within the battered heart
hatred eats the worms of a good life

bless me father for i have sinned
and yet kill me for tempation's within

the path is drawn
whether the winds will it or not

the time is nigh
for all must happen tonight

encourage me Bachchus so strong
to glorify my pleasure in the storm

heat up body of lust
forget family, dreams and all that

brother, my brother so young and so bold
i fear for the bond that grows in our cold

misty secrets in this dark paradise
creation of art dies in the night

what next steps am i suppose to follow now
how am i suppose not to bleed in the yellow snow?!

Brandi Carlile - Tragedy

...but you know I'll defend, the tragedy that we knew us the END!

Νοεμβριακό Απόσπασμα

Νοεμβριακό Απόσπασμα
~Η εγκατάλειψη~

Έρχεται ξανά και ετούτος ο χειμώνας
Εχθρικός, όμορφος και ανένδοτος να με ξεκάνει

Με γέμισε πάλι έχθρες και καρφιά η καρδιά μου σήμερα το βράδυ
Σκοτείνιασε το μυαλό μου με πίκρα, θυμό και ζήλια για τη γήινο μου μονοπάτι

Πόσο θέλω να πληγώσω τον γνωστό εισβολέα μου
Που τριγυρίζει ανάμεσα μου και με καταδιώκει

Ουρλιαχτά να θέλουν να βγαίνουν από μέσα μου
Για την άδικη εγκατάλειψη των μικρών μου ονείρων

Εγώ δε χάρηκα φιλιά και αγκάλες
Εγώ σε ποδιές έκλαψα για πέντε ψωροδεκάρες

Τι να γίνει όμως αφού η μοίρα δε μου’ δωσε ομορφιά
Αλλά με προίκισε με «προσωπικότητα»

Τι παράπονο τώρα εγώ να λησμονώ
Σαν βίαια αναγκάζομαι το αντίο να πω στη χώρα που αγαπώ;

Η κλάψες είναι για τους αδύναμους
Για τους φοβισμένους και τους μη τολμηρούς

Δε ξέρω πώς να ουρλιάξω άλλο για τα όνειρα μου
Για όλα αυτά που έπρεπε, που πρέπει να ζήσω

Δε ξέρω πώς να βρω γαλήνη μέσα στη τόση βαβούρα
Για να αναγεννηθώ…να αναπνεύσω έξω από τον άδικο κλοιό που μου όρισαν

Δεν το διάλεξα αυτό.
Αποστροφή μου φέρνει η φυγή μου.

Κι όμως τώρα σε βλέπω από ψηλά
Μέσα στο μεταλλικό πουλί να χάνεσαι μπροστά μου

Ίσως, θα μου πεις.
Και τι κι’ αν γινόταν….θα γυρίσω να πω κάποια μέρα

Δεν έχει σημασία άλλο πια.
Η σιωπή κατοικεί πλέον στο κορμί μου.

Το μυαλό παλεύει τον άπληστο Χάρο να ξεφύγει
Και όλες τις πλάνες του ιδεαλισμού μου, με μιας να τις μαδήσει.

Η συνέχεια έπεται. Τα όνειρα λιγόστεψαν.
Οι φίλοι κοιμήθηκαν.

Και εγώ, ναυαγός στης καταπίεσης το πέλαγο αρμενίζω….
Μη με λησμονήσετε….
…θα ξανάρθω!

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!

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.

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...

Navigation of Asymmetry

Dislocation of sensitivity

Deprivation of affinity

Bleeding in the social hypocrisy

Bleeding out the social depravity

Praying for progress in innocence

Praying for innovative forgiveness

Sacrilege of the bleak past

Bedazzlement of the future plans

Mistakes of the human vanity

Birth that leads to a coloured prosperity

There again, let the cool breeze flow

With all the harmful thoughts to wither in the darkly snow.

Go to the Mattresses!

Go to the Mattresses!

What you hunger for I give
What you fear for I live…

What you see as suicide
I see as life...

What people call lunatic
I call profound…

What society calls unacceptable
I call freedom…

What you dare not utter
I shout and yell it...

What your eyes don't want to see
I look at it with awe and amazement...

What you consider dull and profane
I call choice and adventure...

What religion calls vile and vulgar
I call experience and wholesome...

What I have been taught not to do...
I do...

And follow life by myself,
And you should too...
Before the current drags you too!

Η Δεύτερη Φορά

Η Δεύτερη Φορά

Οι γκρίζες φιγούρες βαδίζουν στα άσπρα σκοτάδια ξανά
Μέσα σε ένα ωκεανό με ανούσια υλικά αγαθά
Καθώς οι μεγάλοι λύκοι του κράτους με μανία τους καταδιώκουν
Αυτοί τα μυαλά τους με μπακατέλες και μπιχλιμπίδια παραφουσκώνουν

Όλα ένα ανθρώπινο όνειρο ήταν
Που βουτάει μέσα στο άπιαστο άγνωστο
Να κυνηγά ξωτικά μέσα στους άδικους βάλτους της ανθρώπινης σιωπής
Με μαύρους κύκλους το ψέμα να παριστάνει το σύμμαχο της ανοχής

Μικρές ανόητες αγάπες σαν φαντάσματα να μας στοιχειώνουν
Ψόφια λόγια να λησμονούν να μας αναστήσουν κάθε νεογέννητη αυγή
Μα πάντα στο γκρεμό της απληστίας να βαδίζεις
Με γυμνή ψυχή όλο «συγγνώμη , αυτή η ζωή δε μου αξίζει» να τραυλίζεις

Μέχρι ο καπνός από τα μάτια να πάει για τον αιώνιο του ύπνο
Εσύ κυλιέσαι στα κορυφή ενός άδικου λυκόφως

Μετάνοια, λέξη ζωής μεγάλη…
Συγχώρεση, που στέλνει τη ψυχή στην αιώνια κραιπάλη…

Αυτή τη φορά διαλέγουμε το φως….
Τα βάσανα και τα μαστιγώματα του.
Αυτή τη φορά τα μάτια μας θα είναι καθαρά…
Και θα φτύσουμε της υποκρισίας τ’ άγνωστα, τ’ άπειρα…τ’ απέραντα!

The Child of Aran

The Child of Aran

Two drops of honey
Into the mouse trap of the barley
Interventions of the sedated bunnies
Isolate and traumatize the libertines

Beggary of wisdom in the conceited sunlight
Caterpillars squeezing their freedom in the moonlight
Madame of Pain was the divine gift
Proclamations of a forged dream rises in the mist

Agony, little darling,
Is what burns us alive!
Resolutions of deceit
Leaves the murderer inside, and weeps!

Κόκκινη Γραμμή

Κόκκινη Γραμμή

Ποιος μίλησε για της απληστίας το στόμα;
Ποια κρατική κοιλιά πείνασε για τα μαύρα διαμάντια της Δύσης;

Πλέω σε πελάγη μακροθυμίας
Με δαίμονες των άπληστων αιώνων
Να παρελαύνουν στα πρησμένα πόδια μου

Παντού κοιτάζω κήπους τεχνολογικής ασυδοσίας
Το Τέρας το πανούργο να με κοιτά κατάματα
Και με το τραγούδι της Σειρήνας
Να μου μαγεύει ολοένα τα σάπια μου καράβια

Η πηγή της εισόδου μου δεν ήταν εθελούσια
Η φωνή της ζωής μου χάνεται στα μαρμαρωμένα κόκκινα κτήρια
Και το σώμα ετούτο το πολυφίλητο
Να παραλύει στων ανθρώπων το ασυνείδητο

Σαν φτάνω στα τείχη της δυτικής Αυγής
Οι απόστολοι κλαίνε για τη ζοφερή μου αρχή

Ποιος είπε πως η απληστία και η φιλοδοξία
Στα στήθια τα αθώα τα μικρά δε κατοικεί
Ποιος είπε πως ο κόσμος της ματαιότητας
Σταματάει στα τριάντα εννέα σκαλιά εκεί;

Για τη κόκκινη γραμμή συνεχίζουμε τυφλά τη πορεία μας
Και τα στίφη με πονηρή στοργή χαρίζουν απλόχερα την ανθρώπινη τιμωρία μας…

«Ελπίς»

Damien Saez - Chanson pour moi enterrement

Northern Nightingale

Northern Nightingale

Isolation withers this mind
Bleeds it out from its eternal tomb

Like a killer, the fear creeps into the night
Spreading the virus of indecision in the vain Greek life

Letters of past friends like dust in the wind
Blown away in the frayed memory

How to bow into the sadness of the Beast
When the heart compels me to fight against it

A pair of old dancers witnessing my fall
Reality await my heart at the end of the crash

Efforts of grasping colourful dreams have crossed paths with me
Journeying me into an Italian murder with eyes of the blue deep

I forgot the steps!
No breathing creature looks on this face with caresses…

The white witches have perished in the Dark
Leading the fragments of this life into halt!

Departure! What a sweet resolution
What a foolish absolution…

A dying Utopia trying to resurrect in this mind
A crying Nun encouraging me still to spread the wounded wings
…and fly high!

Angels of the Beastly Stars…
Lead me to the plain of the soul’s Divine hands!

Το Παιδί της Σιωπής

Τρέχουν οι χρόνοι και κυλούν
Σα νερό στο Τάμεση οι ζητιάνοι το κατουρούν
Ξεθωριάζουν τα λόγια κι οι στιγμές
Στα μάτια που μεγάλωσαν με άθλιες πληγές

Μικρέ αλησμόνητε σκυλοπνίχτη!
Κάποια μέρα τα βράχια τη ζωής θα καταπνίξεις
Μα σα πέσουν τα τείχη τα πελώρια
Θα ανακαλύψεις μια ζωή κενή γεμάτη με ανέκδοτα ανόητα

Η αφύπνιση του κράτους σου σαν όνειρο βαραίνει
Μέσα στα σκοτάδια τα φριχτά μια αγάπη που προσμένει
Μίλα στους κούφιους ποιητές για όλα τα χαμένα
Μα μη κοιτάξεις πίσω σαν θα δεις της ζωής
…τα κομμάτια να είναι πια λιωμένα

Μη γυρίσεις ποτέ στις ανούσιες Κίρκες
Και πάψε με καταραμένους ύμνους να δοξάζεις δαίμονες και δίψες
Φύγε! Μακριά, παιδί της σιωπής…

Όσο μέσα στη σκιά σκοτώνεις τα τσουβάλια της ντροπής
…η θύρα της αλήθειας θα παραμένει αιώνια κλειστή!

Blowing in the wind....

“Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West
Where the good and the bad and
The worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.”

We are all pawns of the darkness…like streams of water bound to flow into an ocean greater than our will. Night brings with it emotions which the light of day conceals in the veil we call ‘fear’.

Life is like a table game. The dice of life is the choices that arise in a person’s life…some choices are not exactly what we have hoped for…and yet we are forced to choose…the pathways are many…some filled with desire, convenience and insouciance. Other pathways are harder; they are the thorny pathways which many dare not to follow. Their beauty is wild, majestic and filled obstacles.

Emotions are bound to arise through the process of us…of our making. Any joy, pain, suffering, agony, happiness has to undergo through a process…through the human system and the civilization that was passed on to us by our ancestors. To harness our intellect to comprehend the ‘whys’ of this world is pure human vanity. I believe that through all the human monstrosity, through the pain and the suffering that comes, the Night softens every brutal feeling; releases thoughts that our consciousness does not dare to yield to.

Many choose the pathway of flatine…because inside our Pandora’s box our human vanity thrives on fear…There will always be lambs as long as we allow certain people be the wolves, hence this results in the submission of the masses.

The pathway of the rollercoaster is like a grotesque theme park which hides a dazzling treasure at the end of it. It is like the never-ending story, filled with gothic mythical stories. Like a Tim Burton film, only the monsters are ten times more real and ten times more brutal. The strength one needs to have is beyond our human intellect, to fight the monsters which may come our way.

I do not believe that ignorance is bliss…for it prevents the freedom of the spirit and of the mind. Knowledge is power, albeit it offers pain in its discovery. One has to be wise to be able to master the pain of knowledge, and through its hell find the truth, its paradise.

Fear makes people yield to their small passions, and lets their spirit die silently in the sunlight. And that is what’s tragic today. Our spirits die in the sun; and we merely stand still and stare.

The rollercoaster pathway albeit dark and obscure, at the end of it, it offers the sweetest delight of human satisfaction…the spirit is alive, the withered spirit has tasted and lived, and through the lifetime of harshness has learned to dare to fly where other souls can only imagine every night in their dreams.

Η Εταίρα

Η Εταίρα
(1ο Μέρος)

Μια πληγωμένη εταίρα αναζητά
Τις άδοξες εποχές του παρελθόντος
Ερωμένη του εαυτού της
Και καταδικασμένη στην απατηλή ζωή της

Μια ζωή στα ερείπια
Γεμάτη με τσουκνίδες κι’ αγκάθια στα μαλλιά
Γεμάτη με σύννεφα μαύρα
Κι’ ανούσια φιλιά της μοναξιάς

Το κενό της επιβίωσης δεν κρύβεται
Και τα βουβά ουρλιαχτά μαγνητίζουν τη πόλη που ολοένα και βυθίζεται
Μόνη επορεύτηκε στο κόσμο της ψευδαίσθησης
Μόνη εκαταράστηκε τους δαίμονες της αυτοεπαλήθευσης

Μάτια κόκκινα παραμονεύουν στο σκοτάδι
Για την αρχή του ζωντανού λίκνου να τα επιβάλλει
Μαύρες σκιές να χορεύουν στα νυφικά κρεβάτια
Με τη Βακχική τους ζάλη
Και ψέλνοντας ύμνους αιχμηρούς
Να ρίχνονται στη πύρινη στρατιά με αίμα στο κεφάλι

Πώς να ορθώσει το ανάστημα ενάντια στου κράτους τη κραιπάλη
Αφού τα όρνεα του Ιανού κατασπαράζουν το συκώτι της
Σα να’ χει άρωμα από θειάφι

Σαν η εταίρα της Αβύσσου εκίννησε
Για μέρη λαμπερά του μέλλοντος
Το σύμπαν εχλεύασε το θάρρος
Για τη ζωή που οι σοφίες της υπόδειξαν

Μάταια εγύρεψε στον κόσμο ετούτο
Να βρει Βασίλισσες με διαμάντια
Και ατσάλινη καρδιά

Οι τόποι οι μακρινοί την οδήγησαν
Στις σπηλιές του πολυπόθητου Άδη
Με τα φαντάσματα της μυθολογίας
Να βαδίζουν ασταμάτητα προς τα μέρη της απάτης

Οικοδέσποινα και μάνα του Σκότους
Την καλοδέχτηκε στη μοναχική της αγκάλη
Η νύφη του ατίθασου Εωσφόρου
Στο άρμα των τεράτων να ζωγραφίζει τη ζωή της με ανεξίτηλο μελάνι

Η πληγωμένη εταίρα εξαπόστασε
Το ανεμοδαρμένο κορμί της
Στα έγκατα της γης εκλείστηκε με βία
Για να σώσει την ανθρώπινη ψυχή της

Μα σα κατάλαβε την άπειρη ματαιότητα της ύπαρξης της
Όλες οι στιγμές έγιναν δικές της
Και κάθε απόφαση γραμμή της ζωή της

Μια γκραβούρα από θιάσους μαγικούς
Εξύπνησε το σταθερό κορμί της
Και μέσα απ’ τα απαίσια σκοτεινά λιβάδια ξεπροβάλλει
Επί τέλους η τρεμάμενη φωνή της

Η εταίρα ενέδωσε στην ηδονή των Σοφιστών του ένδοξου παρελθόντος
Με τον Απόλλωνα για Θεό οδηγό
Ανακαλύπτει τις ανθρώπινες απολύσεις του ξεχασμένου μέλλοντος

Ανατρεπόμενη η ζωή του κόσμου ετούτου
Πολλοί δοκίμασαν την τέχνη του να αλλάξουν
Η μοιραία ύπαρξη και η αβρότητα
Πάντα απ’ τις πληγές μας θα ξεπροβάλλει
Γιατί είναι γραφτό να μείνουμε
Εταίρες τις ανθρώπινης τάξης!

Hunger

Materials, materials
How blindly you sob
Thy hanger out in myriads
They govern the angry mob

Consumerism running through their veins
And these living caricatures bathe with the diamonds of hate
Illusions dance in their shopping carts
And gluttony smothers their human hearts

No faith, no love
No contact in their blank lives
But things galore
To fill their pearly black boudoirs

Materials, my darling
For me and you
To sex us up
Like the king of Awe,
Our Stalin

With rusty arrows we shoot
Like beasts we madden up
To the greedy hunger of the profane products
Forgetting to scatter away our shinny loot!

Άγνωστη Κίνησης

Άγνωστη Κίνησης

Τώρα;
Και τώρα που έφτασα και σ’ αγάπησα;
Τώρα τι να την κάνω τη καρδιά μου που σπαράζει για σένα;
Τώρα που αναζητά διψασμένη τη μαύρη αγκαλιά σου;
Πώς να τη βυθίσω και πάλι μες την άβυσσο την αιματηρή;
Και πώς να καταπνίξω το συναίσθημα σε μια άβγαλτη διαθήκη;
Να γυρίσω πίσω δε μπορώ…το γνωρίζω καλά!
Ο χρόνος δε με θέλει πια…
Και ο καιρός της προσμονής είναι σκληρός κι’ άδικος
Σε αισθάνομαι. Να πάλλεσαι σαν αστείρευτος οργανισμός
Μέσα στο ατίθασο κορμί μου.
Να παλεύεις για την έξοδο της μάταιης λύτρωσης σου…
Σε νιώθω. Να χάνεσαι μέσα στο σκοτάδι μου.
Στον ανελέητο ορίζοντα των δικών μου των ματιών να τρέμεις από πάθος.
Ο χρόνος δε μας αγάπησε.
Κι η μοίρα σα Κίρκη μας εμπαίζει στο κάλεσμα της.
Έκλεψα τις ανούσιες στιγμές μας και τις πούλησα για του εγωισμού την προσταγή
Αναχαίτισα τα ρομάντζα του μέλλοντος μας
Και σα μικρόβιο σκορπίζω την ανομία της απληστίας μου.
Αλλά τώρα;
Τι να τα κάνω τα χρυσά κλουβιά;
Με τα ρουμπίνια και τα σμαράγδια να με κοιτάν κατάματα
Και να στολίζουν την άχρωμη καλύβα μου;
Όλα είναι πλάνα λόγια και τεμαχίζουν τη σπαρταριστή μου καρδιά.
Πώς να σταματήσω το αίμα που βγαίνει από τα χείλη μου καθώς λέω το σ’ αγαπώ;
Και στο άγνωστο της ασυδοσίας υποκύπτω θεληματικά
Για να ξεχάσω τον κολασμένο παράδεισο της δικής σου αποχής.
Και τώρα τι, αγάπη μου χαμένη….
Και τώρα, τι;

Kansas - Dust in the Wind

...all we are is dust in the wind...

Ξεκούρδιστα Μαντολίνα Μέσα μου Παίζουν…

Ξεκούρδιστα Μαντολίνα Μέσα μου Παίζουν…

Ξημέρωσε κι’ εγώ ακόμα παραμιλώ για τα χαμένα ιδανικά μου
Που γέμισαν τα μάτια σου με ματωμένα δάκρυα στο σκοτάδι
Πώς να σκεπάσουν τα νυχτολούλουδα με το γλυκό τραγούδι τους
Την σάτιρα μιας κομματιασμένης ψυχής

Και καθώς μανιασμένα τρέχουν τα ξωτικά της καινούργιας εποχής
Κοντέσες τραγουδούν λυσσασμένες άριες της γοτθικής εποχής
Και με το κάλεσμα των Σειρήνων ανασταίνουν τα βυθισμένα όνειρα μου

Αχ, το κάλλος σου πικρή ζωή!
Τόση άνθρωποι την επαινούν
Καθώς με τα χέρια αιματοβαμμένα τ’ αδέλφια τους δολοφονούν
Και πως μπορώ εγώ, ένα μικρό ποντίκι
Να καβαλήσω τα έθνη της ασυδοσίας
Πώς να πιαστώ όταν ο Αίολος με φυσάει με μανία
Σπρώχνοντας με σε κρυφά μονοπάτια της ανθρώπινης αβύσσου
Αναγκάζοντας το κάθε βήμα μου να επέρχεται μέσα από λυμένους γρίφους
Μα ο πόνος στην αυγή αμβλύνεται στα ξένα
Και η εθελούσια έξοδος γίνεται ολοένα και μια γλυκιά φυλακή

‘Πίστεψε κι’ αγάπησε’ μου είπε τ’ αηδόνι απόψε
Με τραχιά φωνή αναθάρρεψα για μια στιγμή μοναχά
κι’ αντάμωσα φαντάσματα στου παράδεισου τις πόρτες
Εμπαίζω τον ανούσιο ιδεαλισμό μιας μάζας
Και φορώντας μάσκα ενός Βάκχου υπηρέτη
Αποφασίζω να πηδήξω στο κενό της αθωότης
Ενδίδω ξανά με θάρρος και θυμό στους ερωτικούς ιλίγγους της πλάσης
Και μετουσιώνω το ανεξήγητο πνεύμα της σιωπής

Πέφτω…τώρα πέφτω…
Πιο βαθιά, πιο δυνατά…
Τώρα πια πέφτω…

My Men

My Men

My wanton heart remembers all this evening
My luscious Dorian Grays of my past revealing

Still waiting to drink their golden sip
Under an unstable weather this unruly heart grieves

Passion flees from my sacrilegious chambers
For the lustful liaisons have remained unwanted secrets

The spirits summon the ecstasy of ghostly shadows
That creep into the night until other hyenas decide to follow

Possession of an erroneous desire sleeps here
In the immoral bosoms of a misspelled fear

My wanton boys still wait for me
For entrance in the lonely gates of frenzy

And a rampage of rapture holds this flesh this night
Twisting it in its intoxicating dune of light

Come, lovers of this morbid mind
And exempt the ravished yearn of my humanity

Forgive the transgressions of this little love
And place it in the box of the unknown euphoria

Fly away, my dark lover boys
The dream of serenity shall have no more voice

My wanton dreams decay
And this heart will always be men’s pray!

Διψασμένος Λόγος

Διψασμένος Λόγος

Χαμένα όνειρα επλημμύρισαν κι απόψε τη ξένη κάμαρα μου
Γεμάτη με ακολασίες και διεφθαρμένες ιδέες άλλων εποχών
Χορεύουν και πλαγιάζουν μαζί μου στο μαξιλάρι μου χαμένοι ποιητές
Και μου τραγουδούνε μοιρολόγια μαύρα για τη σκυλίσια τη ζωή μας
Σε κατάρες καταφεύγουν κάθε αυγή για τα θεία και τ’ ανθρώπινα
Και με ματωμένη φωνή δακρύζουν σιωπηλά
Για τη κρεμάλα μιας κατακρεουργημένης κοινωνίας
Πλαστικά όνειρα σε μια ηλιόλουστη πόλη της αβύσσου επροσπάθησα ν’ αποφύγω
Έριξα τα τραυματισμένα τριαντάφυλλα τις καρδιάς μου στον ακάθαρτο Τάμεση
Και πότισα με κόκκινα δάκρυα τις βάναυσες όχθες του
Οι πλάνες της μικρής μου ζωής εφάνηκαν χρυσές την ψεύτικη αυγή
Το αίμα όμως πάντα ξεπροβάλει στο ανατριχιαστικό λυκόφως της άπληστης Δύσης
Μήδε θρόνος για ζωή, μήδε λόγος για ανθρώπινη εκλογή
Πόσο εύκολα δίνει κανείς το τίμημα για τον κακό σκοπό
Και πόσο εύκολα οι λιγόψυχοι αναστενάζουν για την άθλια γήινη ασυδοσία χρυσού μετάλλου
Μικροί πολιτικοί εκολάκεψαν τη μάζα μιας σκοτεινής πράξης
Με μελένια λόγια εποτίστηκαν τα μυαλά των αδαής ποντικιών
Καθώς οι γάτες περιφέρονται με σμαραγδένια στεφάνια στα μαλλιά...

Και’ γω να περιμένω να μπω στο ηλιόλουστο μου μνήμα
Να γευτώ τη σιγουριά του σταθερού του χρόνου
Τη σιγαλιά της γαλάζιας μάνας φύσης
Και το γλυκόπικρο κάλεσμα των τρυγονιών
Να αγκαλιάζει τα αλλοιωμένα όνειρα μου
Αχ! Χρυσαφένιε μου έρωτα….με οδηγείς ακόμα σε ποτάμια σκοτεινά
Σε ασταθές ταξίδια αρχαίων εποχών….
Με βρισιές και πάθος με κυνηγούν ακόμη οι Ερινύες της ψυχής μου
Για να μολογήσω τις μικρές μου ποιητικές ακολασίες
Πώς να το πω ψυχή μου κρύα….
Πως ακόμη ποθώ τον ακατάκτητο λόγο της σοφίας…
Για σκοτεινούς πρίγκιπες ανασαίνουν τα κύτταρα μου
Και λεύκες ζεστές με περιτριγυρίζουν στα ξασπρισμένα βήματα μου…
Αλλοίμονο! Που σ’ αγαπώ ακόμα….
Που είσαι της καρδιά ο προθάλαμος για χρόνια…
Φύγε μακριά, για τα ξένα δαίμονα γλυκέ μου
Και πάψε να τυραννάς ετούτο το κορμί που δεν έφταιξε ποτές του…

Την κακοποιημένη μου αλήθεια ξεστομώ….
Ήσουν η αρχή…κι’ ακόμα σ’αγαπώ…