Humanity, unceasingly, has been fighting wars everywhere for thousands of years,
However, it hasn't realized yet, this isn't the way to eliminate its agonies and fears!
Demetrios Trifiatis
21 March 2026
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PRAY FOR PEACE!
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In the swollen wait,
sprouting in the late summer dawn,
naive longing meets,
unaware of the pride of scorching heat,
in the sleeping embrace
of the confluence of two rivers.
Facing the sharp heat,
like the tip of a rapidly growing bamboo shoot,
the hungry wind howls,
sharp as a mother wolf's call,
bringing forth the clouds that gather
to drive away the oppressive warmth.
An accidental meeting,
caught in the mischief of midsummer,
unable to exchange even a fleeting glance,
unraveling like an old straw sandal
in the dream of the aged river.
The solitary eagle sharpens its beak with a sigh,
unceasingly drawing in the scent of its lost mate,
as it fiercely pecks
at the arrogance of the searing heat.
The raven-black wait
and the vivid blue longing
open their embrace,
climbing onto the crest of the confluence,
they gaze at one another,
finally becoming a tingling wave,
reaching toward each other.
Fingers of sunlight fuse and bleed
Pouring through cloudy turbid skies
Gently spilling its warmth to concede
Unsettling winds that unceasingly sigh
Muting the thunderous applause of a storm’s demise
A bluebell sky lights the promises of a changing day
Teeming with the brilliance of light that breach
The forecast of wind and weather relinquishing my dismay
As joy implores happiness in song filled harmonies unleash
This empirical miracle of hope’s heavenly array
This partly cloudy day makes me think of you
You are like the unsettled weather
As your feelings shift from gray to blue
Your laughter breaks through like the sun untethered
While your heart wraps around each loving hue
With tonal loving sounds of our day beginning anew
Calibrated with fortified spirit to pursue, fight
Amidst brewing storm in a subtle hour of darkest night
Pulling all strengths to move unceasingly forward
Talon’s fearless claws abrading trials, holding faith hard.
Ascent with prayers to view the gleaming light of dawn
Illuminated heart of hope wakes a dogged determination
Noble act of heroism flails with great leadership to lean on.
Ardent impulse to journey more tough roads to success
Maximizing power to carry heavy loads, fighting distress
Earnest desire to fly crossing mountains and vast seas
Remote on retreats to fulfill self to others’ dream or wish.
Imperishable impetus to venture with insignia of goodness
Coat of resilience for pains with wisdom to grow from weakness
A fortitude to persistency for achievements and happiness.
What crimes are these
Filling my consciousness with chaos
Speaking unceasingly of darkness and pain
Crimes of the dead uneasy in their graves
Haunting the spheres of the shadow world
Under the chestnut trees
On the hill of the cat cemetery.
I know them from their voices
I know them from their names
But these travellers tell me nothing of their past
Although their rags betray their tales
And the voyages from whence they come
The sea waves are still rocking in their brains
And the salted air is poisoned with their desires.
She was light, I was glass, a reflection of the rays passing through me,
A dance of shadows and glimmers on the surface of my cracked heart,
Perhaps I wasn't the purest altar, for something in me always resisted,
Trying to mend her, to hold her, but shattering her fragile outline.
Her light scattered into shards when it passed through me, a sad kaleidoscope,
It wasn't her that bent, but all that was good in her warm essence,
I held her with sharp edges, how could I keep the light alive?
So, in the end, she faded, not from desire, but from the lack of a clear path.
I left her without ways, a labyrinth of cracked mirrors and lost illusions,
And I wondered, how can a broken heart offer shelter to the light?
She vanished, like a memory shrouded in mist, letting the shadows fall,
But perhaps in my reflections, she will always continue to dance, unceasingly.
May we forever be lovers,
May we forever be friends,
And should we hurt each other,
May we quickly make amends.
May we enjoy our passion,
But never let compassion die,
Thinking in selfless terms as we,
Never emphasising I.
May we forever be soul-mates,
May our love eternally last,
May the food of love sustain us,
May we never have to fast.
May we use each other’s strengths,
When we are feeling weak,
May we both learn to compromise,
And always as one voice speak.
May we never keep dark secrets,
May we never tell each other lies,
May we both work unceasingly,
To ensure our love never dies.
Intrusive thoughts are bothersome at night
when I’m in bed, prepared to go to sleep.
My mind keeps racing, and it’s hard to fight
those ear worms which into my brain may creep.
I’ll hear the chorus of some new hit song
unceasingly repeat, repeat, repeat,
or maybe there’s a thing that I’ve done wrong -
like something I’d said that day indiscreet.
I’ll lie there thinking why I was so dumb.
Then other thoughts kick in out of nowhere,
persisting like the beats heard on a drum.
It gets to be almost too much to bear.
Enough! There’s one sure way these thoughts will scram.
I down two capsules of Temazepam.
In the garden where illusions grow like paper flowers under the velvet sky,
Life is woven like a tapestry of shadows and lights fading into the distance,
A sweet lie we embrace with open arms,
For the pure truth, like a cold wind, might scatter our dreams,
We paint our reality with the oils of dreams and unfulfilled hopes,
While our soul dances on the edge of an abyss of desires.
In the memory of a yesterday that caresses us with whispered nostalgia,
We build sandcastles on the shore of time, knowing the waves will come,
But we love the ephemeral, the beauty of moments unraveling in the wind of forgetfulness,
For in every illusion, we find a silent truth that warms our heart,
And in every lie, a spark of reality that keeps us anchored in dreams,
And in this duality, we find our steps on the path of life,
A trail of shooting stars that shine only in the night of consciousness.
Thus, in the cosmic silence of our thoughts, we let ourselves be carried,
On rivers of images and sensations that flow unceasingly,
For in this stream of the mind, we find a refuge, a sanctuary of light,
Where life, with all its lies, becomes a story we choose to live.
In a realm of tranquil illusions, weary spirits find thrones of comfort,
Lives frozen in monotonous dances, dolls forgotten in the windows of dead time,
Middle-aged souls, ghosts of lost hope, nestle into routine,
The leaden embrace of stagnation promises them an eternity of divine peace.
Deep within the soul, fear sneaks in like an underground stream,
The fear that fragile order is a sandcastle, a vain illusion,
They retreat into mental bunkers, hiding their dreams and unspoken fears,
Hoping the walls of silence will keep change at bay, unspoken promises.
But time, a tireless sculptor, spins its chisel on the face of reality,
Each moment leaves a mark, a reminder of the ephemeral,
Stagnation is but an illusion, true life awaits beyond the walls,
Demanding the courage to step into the unknown, to emerge from labyrinths.
Between the walls of silence, souls sing the longing for freedom,
A yearning that pulses like a heart beneath resignation, beneath opacity,
Rays of light pierce through the cracks in the walls, reminding them of the river,
Life flows unceasingly, calling them to embrace their living destiny.
In the depths of that meeting, an echo of a silent love was born,
like a hidden whisper in the cold wind embracing the sleeping earth,
and every moment spent together became a page from an untold story,
where words were unnecessary, and their silence was full of deep meanings.
He looked at her as a winter miracle, a rare flower in a frozen garden,
and in her eyes, he saw the reflection of a universe defying the chill of time,
a place where desires and regrets blend into a symphony of emotions,
where each note vibrates with the promise of a spring to come.
In that life-filled silence, he understood that beauty is not only in what you see,
but in how you feel, in how each touch becomes a prayer,
and that sometimes, the deepest connections are formed from unspoken things,
from moments of quiet where their hearts beat in unison, without a word spoken.
Thus, in the eyes of the world, time may seem to freeze, but in their hearts,
the fire of love burns unceasingly, like a flame that knows no end in the heart of winter,
and every memory becomes a warm light, shining in the frozen darkness,
a testament to a bond that transcends the seasons and the passage of time.
Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of pleasure,
Which from passion like ours may unceasingly flow;
—Lord Byron, To Caroline
Those Doters
I love his eyes
those doters
brown oglers, they
more than hint
unlike the wink
of dreamers
he has an in
my body warms
under his gaze
will he stay the course?
of course, he must
I depend on dusk
or a delightful dalliance
at dawn
or in between
in between
i can’t say anymore
I’ve shut the door
Byron’s women blush
In a realm of shadows and fears, footsteps tread unceasingly,
Small fears like dried leaves gather beneath the steps of autumn,
I am not a person, but a lost dream, among desires and shivers,
I fear small, ordinary, human things, like a wandering stranger.
I love adventures, transformations flow like a river to the unknown,
Yet I resist when opportunity appears as a door ajar,
In vain I flee, for fear finds me, an echo of steps on a deserted road,
I have no choice but to look into its deep eyes, to find courage.
Fear is not the monster I believed, but an old friend, unrecognized,
It is the key that opens doors to freedom, to light,
I realize the irony in the question: where has fear been all my life?
What do I still avoid that could be of help, that could bring solace?
With each step, integrating fear, I become more myself,
I embrace the shadows like old acquaintances on my path,
They make my heart beat fast, I live each moment intensely,
I weave my destiny from thin threads of courage and acceptance.
In a world where time flows like an untamed river,
I keep my soul like a lighthouse illuminating the storm,
When life whispers to me like a passing wind,
The call of the pen becomes a song that resounds.
I will not bury feelings in the cemetery of the heart,
For it would be cruelty to the stirrings from the depths,
Whether in restless mornings or uneasy nights,
Giving life to words is my sacred and pure right.
In this hurried world, I find a moment of respite,
Capturing ephemeral moments and weaving them into tapestries of poetry,
Unspoken words do not wait forever to be said,
They scatter like leaves in the wind of oblivion, disappearing.
So in the clamor of days, I stop and listen,
Letting my heart beat the rhythm of unforgettable words,
For they are echoes of the soul that must be released,
Before they are lost in the silence of time, like a tumult.
Through woven verses, I give voice to deep silence,
Building bridges of light between desires and dreams,
Knowing that only thus can I keep the moment alive,
In a world where time flows unceasingly, unscathed.
2024 Multitudes of roadblocks confronts me inside
Unapologetically. 2024
The limits of cracked foundations of systematic,
Complexed people seem to conspire together beyond
One's control. 2024
Why smudge one's personality for whatever unknown
Reasons?
Undecisive which pill to swallow? Should one move to
The left? The right? or in-between. 2024
Spiritual warfare? Sometimes favorable at times
Dreadful encounters now and then scanty control
Purposes to withstand life's storms? 2024
Where's the Love? Has it gone extinct? Concealed
excuses. Trickiness seems like the new truth. 2024
Peace should be embraced wholeheartedly and incorporated. 2024
Veneration faces the four corners of the winds. Pray
Unceasingly, on all occasions, acts of gracefulness. 2024
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