Poetry 1997-2001 Sydney 2008
Author-Publisher: Pipina D. Iosifidou-Elles / Copyright: P. D. Iosifidou-Elles
Cover by the author: P.D. Iosifidou-Elles /ISBN 978 0 9804894 0 8
************
“…. Nobody wants our poems!” I refuse to believe it!
Nobody wants our poems!”
26th of February 2000,
Sydney Morning Herald
Even so,
achievers exist,
as do
poetry lovers.
They are here
to stay,
as they keep
the beehives workshop
in a good niche .
The application
of a Veto
does not result
in a disappearing act ,
nor does it swallow
their existence…
It cannot change
their sense
of responsibility,
towards
the permanently
vulnerable flock!
Fathering humans
is a mere responsibility.
Being able to read,
murmur,
to listen to mutter,
and interpret
the human behavior,
does not make them
wizards…
Simply, they are gifted
by the Muse!
Love towards life,
and concern
about humans,
generates
a firing passion
that elevates the soul
to freedom’s sphere.
Only fate dictates
who of those imprisoned
within the human shell
will come out
of their crypt
and into enlightenment.
Controversy,
Irresponsibility,
Horror, Misery,
Repression,
Depression,
all give birth to a reaction…
to poetry.
The zeal for the truth
-burning torch
inside the one’s
psychic labyrinth-
becomes
the blessed fruit,
of thought and words:
the Logos!
Diogenes’ search
has not become
a torch tale,
without a purpose.
A creator’s vision in spirit
strives to safeguard men!
Patronizing agents
warn:
“nobody
wants your poetry”.
The brave choose
the steep path!
The fear
accelerates
the promiscuous
reality.
The clowns
carry their cross
all alone.
The frozen smile
belongs
to the caricature!
The choked
voice,
the withdrawn
hands,
to the marionette.
He carries his agony,
he struggles
to the assigned
peak,
to enjoy
the final chapter,
The Catharsis!
*********
My friend, the poet
My friend is a poet.
I cannot take him
lightly.
His intelligence,
sensitivity, or humanity
are remarkable!
We take our coffee,
we read poems,
we listen
to each other’s
news, views
and reviews…
on newspapers
or books.
Through interaction…
we either agree
or disagree…
regarding the content
of newspapers,
where hideous articles
can make one angry!
Newspapers may
poison our lives,
pollute our environment,
perhaps permanently!
Their ‘agents’
certain of their talent
and our attention…
are bombarding us
with comments
on poverty…
Poverty…
is a matter of economics.
Mighty dollar
buys the lot:
publishers,
publications…
journalists…
mandatory
-last, but not least-
to mislead the flock!
Let us read
between the lines,
and learn to interpret.
Then… analyze
the written word!
Time speeds,
stealing our time…
our lives…
This is difficult
for the ordinary men.
Is it bad
or men who have
no interest
in news,
views and reviews
are perhaps
the wise ones?
My friend-poet,
Prays…
“limitation of time
means
“need to hurry!” says he…
“I feel the force of the time!
I must fulfill
the circle of maturity
as to be able to give
birth to my children:
thoughts, beliefs,
antithesis to actions
and… reactions…
I must give:
“σάρκα και οστά
στα πλάσματά μου!”
he adds.
“The burning fire
inside me
is my only hope!
Things change.
The world is
upside-down”
he concludes
My friend is a poet
who dreams
of miracles,
and never looses
hope.
He is positive,
believes in man
works for him,
he calls him
Brother.
It is romantic
to believe
in magic!
**********
“Kyrgie Eleison!..”
Hold me tight,
as to be able to search
for Utopia!
Don’t mind
the Sympligades,
or the Gorgon,
for they don’t matter!
They’re frightening
but… how do you know
if they’re not
frightened
of us, too!
Let us pray:
Kyrgie eleison mas!
*******
Our faith… for the better!
The twin power
of our souls,
our faith
to Zoe…
are
charging us!
Let us try
to overcome
our
human deficiency,
and
become free,
leaving behind
the heavy
earthy shirt
to rejoice freedom,
fatherless captains
of our destiny,
the Argo!
Our existence,
-marked
by the twin sign
of Apollo and Dionysos-,
perpetually creates
our passion
for the song of eternity.
The purifying fire
that burns
within our hearts,
the cool water
that nourishes
our roots…
complete the circle
of our vows
for our well being.
However
cold head…
warm feet,
do not always
draw out our best!
*******
Something has to do…
I can guess your thoughts…
“The wind… the waves
have to do
with all this!
In the sea-shore
I touched
the blue-orange
sea stars.
I waited
for the sign
on the horizon
just before
he was engulfed
in its burning
silence.
I watched you
embracing
the child,
clean
his minor injury
with salty water.
“Nature’s iodine”
you whispered,
faithful
to the nature’s
healing ability!
Oh, how much
I love you!
******
In my next life!
I pray and hope
when the end
will draw close to me,
to be as serene
as this peaceful sunset.
How wonderful!
Lovely Margarita
blossoms shyly
dressed in white,
and “karderina”*
tries to sing
something melodic!
Listen to the sound
of a distant flute.
Watch the maple’s leaf
last dance
in the mistral’s song.
I’ll take this trip alone,
as I did on my arrival,
stripped out of everything,
as light as ever,
having left
everything behind me.
Without luggage,
or a ticket,
taken by a milky beam
and through a spooky
tunnel.
I will arrive in Hades
without diodia.
From then on
I‘ll be honored
eternal hospitality
in the chambers
of everybody’s master,
Haros.
In those “symposia”
through
my soul’s waves
-imagine something similar
at the internet-
I‘ll be meeting
my loved ones,
friends,
or… even foes!
Ignore my cruelty
my beloved.
Let us hold hands….
My love for you,
is eternal!
I will treasure
your memory
within the crypts
of my soul!
Overcoming
the boundaries
of human capacity
I will safeguard
your angelical icon,
substitute
the fire of my passion,
quench the thirst
of your kisses!
*******
Acceptance
The feeling of existence
is strong.
Similarly
that of the final
metamorphosis!
Strangely enough
the whole idea chases
my agonies away!
********
Remember me…
In the days to come,
remember me!
In the mornings
my flowers
will remind you
of my love.
In the evenings
majestic words, spoken
between the lines
of the pentagram
of musical appetizers,
verses that have captured
my imagination,
will accompany you
as long as
you need them!
It is getting late,
and I must leave you.
Don’t be sad!
I am ready
for this trip,
you know!
One day
after you have taken
the same path…
-God! will you really
remember me by then?-
we might meet again
at the other beginning!
Everything is measured
due to our fate.
Hypothetical dreams
lost themes
songs, lyrics, myths
concerning
life and darkness…
Man is a real riddle!
Therefore
Don’t forget
to water
my little plants,
to preserve
my words,
and… who Knows?
Everything is possible!
*******
Children
Give children
as little as
a smile
and they will
smile
back at you.
Give them
your hand
and
they will
stretch out
to reach you.
Give them
your love
and
they will be
yours forever!
Remember:
the blossoms
of today
are the citizens
of tomorrow.
They will be carrying
their experiences,
-basic particles-
upon which
their character
will be built!
So,
a lot has to do
with the way
we treat them,
the love
we feed them with,
the elegance
we water them with…
Because…
These Little Flowers,
the most beautiful
in the world’s
Garden,
are as fragrant
as the quality
of the ingredients
they have been fed
and looked after, with!
*******
The beauty and the beast!
Sound
vividly alive…
-happy, bubbly,
fresh and clean,
it furthers into a serene
water mass.
Amongst
the rippling reflections
I can see my own,
trembling, questioning,
amazed…
It is astonishingly
disturbing
to see myself
as I never did before:
an antithesis
to the beautiful presence
of yours!
********
Why my God?
Kyrgie,
help me
to control my pain,
and master
my feelings!
Teach me
the impossible:
the technique
of accepting
the given boundaries.
Give me the strength
to deal
with the fear
of the Unknown,
with dignity
and humiliation!..
My existence
Kyrgie,
is made of ingredients
inflicting
continuous pain.
The questioning
starts
the moment
I discover what
myDestiny,
my Moira is.
I go on doubting
the reasoning
and the purpose
of my presence
in this paradise.
Mother Earth
gives me birth
then takes me back
in her womb
and buries me!
Like a beast,
eats her own fruit
and equally
pretends
to be loving!
Slave
of my destiny
I continue to pretend
life goes on,
forever!
Kyrgie eleison me!*
*Kyrgie eleison me!= God! Have mercy on me!
******
“Blood on the border”*
It is no use repeating
the question
or trying to find
an answer:
why does man inflict
pain unto himself,
and upon others?
Stomping
blossoming flowers
it is a megacrime!
The inhuman side
of man is
well looked after…
Ironically,
he calls himself
man of our times,
and emphasizes
the importance of…
“Love the children…
The Kingdom belongs
to them!”
*Sydney Morning Herald 15/3/1997. With compassion to the families of the Israeli schoolgirls
at Peace Island (Middle East)
*******
They say…
Citizens of this world,
I ask you:
do people change?
The seeds of good
and bad,
grow inside us,
from day one
on our arrival
into this world.
Only a miracle
can alter
the ingredients,
and result in
a badly needed
inner metamorphosis.
Is there any hope
to sow
deep inside us
the qualities
we need?
Is there any hope
for those
who direct
their efforts
to help the masses,
to revert
their actions
to beneficial deeds?
To add
to the skyline
of prosperity,
to the pyramid
of credibility?
Sincere interest,
for equal benefits
is an echo
of the benevolent acts,
of the Master.
The unorthodox
has happened:
the most strange,
breathtaking,
heartbreaking
raising our agony
for the uncertainty
of the future world,
the psycho-somatic
wounds
inflicted to all the children!
Kosovo…
“Άφες αυτοίς…
ου γαρ οίδασι
τι ποιούσι!..”*
There is no paradise
on earth…
only the punitive
judgment
of the powerful
upon the weak,
and the suppression
of their insignificant
voices!
The pyramid crumbles
As the faith evaporates!
The philanthropic
citizenship drowns
the very first day
of the human been
on earth!
Mark it down:
People certainly do not change!
*“Άφες αυτοίς… ου γαρ οίδασι τι ποιούσι!..”:
Forgive them, as they are not aware of their actions.
******
Remember me…
In the days to come,
remember me!
In the mornings
my flowers
will remind you
of my love.
In the evenings
majestic words, spoken
between the lines
of the pentagram
of musical appetizers,
verses that have captured
my imagination,
will accompany you
as long as
you need them!
It is getting late,
and I must leave you.
Don’t be sad!
I am ready
for this trip,
you know!
One day
after you have taken
the same path…
-God! will you really
remember me by then?-
we might meet again
at the other beginning!
Everything is measured
due to our fate.
Hypothetical dreams
lost themes
songs, lyrics, myths
concerning
life and darkness…
Man is a real riddle!
Therefore
Don’t forget
to water
my little plants,
to preserve
my words,
and… who Knows?
Everything is possible!
*********
Children
Give children
as little as
a smile
and they will
smile
back at you.
Give them
your hand
and
they will
stretch out
to reach you.
Give them
your love
and
they will be
yours forever!
Remember:
the blossoms
of today
are the citizens
of tomorrow.
They will be carrying
their experiences,
-basic particles-
upon which
their character
will be built!
So,
a lot has to do
with the way
we treat them,
the love
we feed them with,
the elegance
we water them with…
Because…
These Little Flowers,
the most beautiful
in the world’s
Garden,
are as fragrant
as the quality
of the ingredients
they have been fed
and looked after, with!
*******
The beauty and the beast!
Sound
vividly alive…
-happy, bubbly,
fresh and clean,
it furthers into a serene
water mass.
Amongst
the rippling reflections
I can see my own,
trembling, questioning,
amazed…
It is astonishingly
disturbing
to see myself
as I never did before:
an antithesis
to the beautiful presence
of yours!
*******
Why my God?
Kyrgie,
help me
to control my pain,
and master
my feelings!
Teach me
the impossible:
the technique
of accepting
the given boundaries.
Give me the strength
to deal
with the fear
of the Unknown,
with dignity
and humiliation!..
My existence
Kyrgie,
is made of ingredients
inflicting
continuous pain.
The questioning
starts
the moment
I discover what
myDestiny,
my Moira is.
I go on doubting
the reasoning
and the purpose
of my presence
in this paradise.
Mother Earth
gives me birth
then takes me back
in her womb
and buries me!
Like a beast,
eats her own fruit
and equally
pretends
to be loving!
Slave
of my destiny
I continue to pretend
life goes on,
forever!
Kyrgie eleison me!*
*Kyrgie eleison me!= God! Have mercy on me!
*******
“Blood on the border”*
It is no use repeating
the question
or trying to find
an answer:
why does man inflict
pain unto himself,
and upon others?
Stomping
blossoming flowers
it is a megacrime!
The inhuman side
of man is
well looked after…
Ironically,
he calls himself
man of our times,
and emphasizes
the importance of…
“Love the children…
The Kingdom belongs
to them!”
*Sydney Morning Herald 15/3/1997. With compassion to the families of the Israeli schoolgirls
at Peace Island (Middle East)
*******
They say…
Citizens of this world,
I ask you:
do people change?
The seeds of good
and bad,
grow inside us,
from day one
on our arrival
into this world.
Only a miracle
can alter
the ingredients,
and result in
a badly needed
inner metamorphosis.
Is there any hope
to sow
deep inside us
the qualities
we need?
Is there any hope
for those
who direct
their efforts
to help the masses,
to revert
their actions
to beneficial deeds?
To add
to the skyline
of prosperity,
to the pyramid
of credibility?
Sincere interest,
for equal benefits
is an echo
of the benevolent acts,
of the Master.
The unorthodox
has happened:
the most strange,
breathtaking,
heartbreaking
raising our agony
for the uncertainty
of the future world,
the psycho-somatic
wounds
inflicted to all the children!
Kosovo…
“Άφες αυτοίς…
ου γαρ οίδασι
τι ποιούσι!..”*
There is no paradise
on earth…
only the punitive
judgment
of the powerful
upon the weak,
and the suppression
of their insignificant
voices!
The pyramid crumbles
As the faith evaporates!
The philanthropic
citizenship drowns
the very first day
of the human been
on earth!
Mark it down:
People certainly do not change!
*“Άφες αυτοίς… ου γαρ οίδασι τι ποιούσι!..”:
Forgive them, as they are not aware of their actions.
*********
They are more poems…. but I stop here!
The author Dr Pipina D, Elles
PIPINA ELLES 