they often
say hair and
fingernails grow
longer when one
is happily relaxed
they often say hair
and fingernails
grow longer
when one is
lifelessly
dead
my breathing has gone
from a shallow yawn
to something short
of a sigh
once i
stayed on
an isle and
a mirrorless
summer
simmered
passing by
my heart pacer
taking time as fast
as the mules
taking mail
to the cliff
topped town
of Thira
a turtle vs
snail race
sitting in a cafe
sipping a frappe
an hour into
drinking
when
someone's sound
broke my silence
asking how long
i'd grown my
beard
thoughts in Greek
and English speech
which of these
let me take
you down
to
Elysium's
Fields
Categories:
cyclades, muse,
Form: I do not know?
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.
Categories:
cyclades, beach, inspiration, nature, sea,
Form: Free verse