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Ordinary May Poem
Last night I slipped into an introspective dream
witness of a strange extracorporeal experience
the whole me deconstructed to its raw materials
Dead myself was found a bright day
and lay nude on a table counter
on a top floor balcony of an unknown city
I was there, the eyes of a stranger
contemplating my naked body
my appealing erogenous zones
arms and legs leaning on the sides
motionless ribs and chest protruding
my eyelids shut in serenity, the wooden expression
So detached from the soulless body
at first I couldn’t clearly recognize
the element that linked me to the dream
Insignificant who owned the corps before
lands of a new perspective are here for me to explore
small part of the primal knowledge revealed to me
Mystified by compassion and moral obligation
for the helpless body does not deserve
unprotected to lie under the opal rays of the city sun
uncovered to repose in the cold night winds
exposed to random spectators’ judgement
abandoned, without a soul. Was I the owner of that body?
Rushing in agony and the countdown of time
Was I there to save my body from unworthy decay?
Do I have the power to drag it inside the room?
it was a drastic solution as I looked around
there onwards, undisturbed, I would organize the next step
the certainty of predestination supported by aloof composure
Helping hands’ astounding substance
a crystal liquid energy in transparent gloves instead of skin
repeated attempts to lift up my lifeless body
oh I was extremely heavy, impossible to move
an overrated effort in an eerie cloud of panic and the gravity
a deafening whack then awkward pulls dragging me on the floor
There I woke up, as one.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2016
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Ordinary May Poem
Two emerald coasts frame
the cape of the ancient pirates
Among its smooth greyish white rocks
cedar trees being grown faintly within the centuries
their volume curved exposing to exogenous powers
their lawless shadow, a shelter
under the strong Mediterranean sun.
North wind’s continuous touch
intercepts worries that being fired
shifts them far to the mountainous villages
until their thin structure accedes to the hasty clouds
becomes one with the view; thoughts, cliffs, sun and sky.
Hair disheveled, blown towards all directions
fragments of sand all over the skin.
Morning dreams lave in the water edge
dazzling crystal surface of the sea hurts the eyes
Aqua iridescences invite to be integrated
A deep breath, the playful buoyance and I caress
the wave’s ripples being embossed on the fine pearly sand
of the untrodden seabed, pure light and eternal time,
my underwater kingdom lasts as my longest breath.
* A poem inspired by the place "Mikri Vigla" in Naxos island, Cyclades Greece.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2017
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Ordinary May Poem
Circles of people
engaged with their failure
continue living
a ruined dreams’ tenure.
Blocking.
Together they walk
they talk and they cry
for their past is revealed
hidden pain when they smile.
Unblocking.
Vanity their common feeling
but they do have knowledge now
for each one has to become
mirror to the rest somehow.
Blocking.
Feelings of a pale hope
floating on the air among
for the things that can be changed
nothing lasts for a lifelong.
Unblocking.
Deep inside they do know
they have to leave their burden
before carrying another one
nothing in life is for certain.
Blocking.
When one falls on the ground
others gently lift them up
because they entirely understand
that the kindness caused the wound.
Unblocking.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2016
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Ordinary May Poem
My dear friend, come on
come on near, my hand to hold.
They are just poisoning my brain
with these hands up in the air
the frustration and despair
coming from the crowd’s welfare.
I stay quiet and still to fight
so my friend please hold me tight.
My close friend just be around
for I discerned you from the crowd.
Ugly voices produce just noise
but your own calming voice
and your own touch of warm
pulls my soul to rejoice.
So my friend I bow your skill
for remaining quiet and still.
Dear friend just come to see
come and see I make a plea.
They left me here to dry
punishment for not comply
with the guilty of their words
when they throw them from the sky.
So my friend stay quiet and still
just on you I can rely.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2016
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Ordinary May Poem
The allure of the moment
thousands of love ideas shaped at once
a typhoon of possibilities
swirls the senses
ruffles the mind
witty glances and flow of speech
all parts surrender to the voluptuous rhythm
of those consecutive fiery circles
released unconsciously
in an ocean of Spontaneity.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2016
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Ordinary May Poem
Moon is drawing circles
and you are drawing circles
and you drift farer and farer.
You will never be my husband after all.
Copyright © Ordinary May | Year Posted 2016
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