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Best Poems Written by George Yiorgos Stathakis

Below are the all-time best George Yiorgos Stathakis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

The Universe of Creativity, the Poet, and the Poem

Poetic lines
plucked out of the universe of creativity
a structure perhaps in place.

The poet's mind
a receptor
like a television receiving radio waves.

A message and a form emerges and a pattern appears
then to be arranged and carefully designed
like a quilter creating a quilt.

Further guided to play with words and structure
so as to fine tune
like a musician fine tuning a musical instrument.

The poet beckoned
by the universe of creativity
summoned to create the poem.



N/A - Brian Strand - All Yours (Apr 14) Poetry Contest

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

In Your Mind During Those Moments In Time

as you sit there
absorbing the calming rays of the morning sun
you read
and then realize how chaotic disarray is attempting to make love with harmony
in a world of insanity
while influencing your mind
during those moments in time

you interpret the “informative news”
as a need to amalgamate absurdities
with solutions for serenity
while initially resisting wishes and temptations of conformity
in your mind
during those moments in time

and then  s l o w ly  
you are confused by intellectual absurdities 
losing clarity and sanity
and sometimes becoming a victim of hypocrisy
falling head first into the world’s quicksand of misery
which wants to swallow up your mind
during those moments in time

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

A Deciduous Tree In the Forest of Its Dreams

in a forest
a deciduous tree with an immortal spirit
germinated in a foreign flora
while surrounded by evergreens

it came from another land
where deforestation is the norm
from a world of destruction
and death

after many years
this deciduous tree became robust and admirable
its trunk sturdy, its branches stout
with its green wide flat leaves in the summer, colorful ones in the fall

and the winds blew, and the storms came
and it was pelted by the rain and hail
thunder and lightning attempted to uproot its soul
but the tree stood tall, and was not dismantled

and all of the evergreens
questioned its existence
laughed at its appearance
said that it was infecting the purity of their sacred evergreen forest

and if this tree could think and speak, if this tree could feel
it would simply say….

“I only seek a better life
in the forest of my dreams.”

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

I Aimed, Pulled the Trigger, and Fired

I didn’t even know what type of bird it was - when I had to shoot to kill.

I left the comfort of my bed
on an early Saturday Fall morning
to enter the unknown - a nearby forest
so that I could hunt with my father.

The canopy of trees further reduced the light from the overcast sky.
It was chilly, with a scent of damp moss present in the air
the ground wet from the morning mist.

I remember mostly silence
except for my breathing
and the sounds of my footsteps
and those of my father - crushing twigs, branches, dead leaves, plant life, and living insects
clearing the road
for my rite of passage
my childhood disappearing
with every footstep.

The bird
spotted by my father
a distance away
on a branch
of a colorful, majestic tree.

He handed me his gun
and gave me a quick refresher on how to hold, how to shoot, and what to expect.
The gun heavy
my arms starting to ache
my hands cold
and trembling.
And then I was told that I was ready
And so I aimed
pulled the trigger
and fired.

The bird remained motionless
and very much alive.

I fired once more.

Again
the bird, still there
unaffected
and at that moment I asked myself, if I would have to shoot again.

My father reloaded the rifle
and as I reluctantly took it from his hands, he looked into my eyes
and I wondered if he knew.

I fired again.
Again - I missed.

Then a fourth, and final time.

I returned the riffle to my father.
Nothing was said.
Nothing else was done.
I asked myself if one day I would be a hunter.

Before leaving the area
so that my father’s hunt could once again continue
I looked - for the last time - at the branch of the tree that once supported the bird.
It was gone - and I smiled.

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

His Life and the Garden

On that day, the phone first rang at nine a.m.,
then rang again fifteen minutes later.
His daughter gave his wife the news.
The shock…then silence…
followed by mixed emotions. 
She was oh so very young.

The mirror in the room keeps displaying his visage;
the lines, the hair thinning at the top.
Today he will wear his new jeans, 
and his Cat Stevens t-shirt, 
and put some styling jell in his hair. 

On the mantle, the faded photo, 
conceiving memories of a party long ago. 
Everyone younger, most living, 
many smiling, laughing, appearing joyous.

Every morning, pain in his shoulder.
Throughout the night, numbness in most of the fingers of his right hand.
Heat or ice for his Achilles’ tendon? 
(The doctor had called it tendinitis)

In the afternoon, some bread baking, 
or perhaps a pizza;
a newly found hobby suggested by the pandemic.

On his desk, an almost finished poem, 
about an abusive father and husband, 
and a fire in a home on Colonial Street, 
in the city of Montreal.

Beside it, another poem … just started.
Beautiful and magical butterflies, 
and thoughts of revenge, 
and murder.

And from his window … a garden. 
Among the vegetation, a vibrant green pepper plant, 
alive and flourishing.
Next to it, another plant,
cabbages visible,
but most of its leaves eaten by the caterpillars.

Details | George Yiorgos Stathakis Poem

A Flower

a flower, in a garden, 
in the morning light
the dew upon its petals, still
creating, enveloping
illuminating visions of transcendence,
and insight




(Contest Entry: Bite Size Poem #31 Poetry Contest)

Best Poems Written by George Yiorgos Stathakis

The Universe of Creativity, the Poet, and the Poem

My Stupid Poem

It's Nothing But Delusion

From Darkness To Light

In Your Mind During Those Moments In Time

Grace

A Deciduous Tree In the Forest of Its Dreams

I Aimed, Pulled the Trigger, and Fired

His Life and the Garden

A Flower