Shower Feels
I’m in the shower
Touch me, water
Rays of power
Throw me over
It’s ecstatic
It’s so wild
Bathtub, back it
Up, rewind
Release the tension
Down it rains
I know this pleasure,
In my veins
My mind now asks
What did I do?
The feel, so vast
Has come from you
Parable of the Parable
I’ve got stuck with it
since the first day:
the absolute parable
of the tulip
in the vase
slowly opening its petals
from early morning until
dusk when it folds them
with a soft stirring
and becomes blossom again.
The same yesterday
and the day before.
Fully bloomed
and then close to sundown
a blossom again.
An easily accepted parable
of perpetual rebirth,
perpetual adolescence
the tulip in the vase. Indeed.
On the fifth or sixth day
I noticed
signs of tiredness because
of the blooming and folding
some signs of dryness.
Luckily there was nothing
to be concerned with
and for this I was surprised
on the seventh day
when no blossom or flower
appeared while
the breathless petals
spread over the table.
Then, the poor flower is gone
its preaching is gone
the whole parable too.
Yet, if nothing else
I’ll keep this
new parable.
Big Procession of Priests and Commoners
A procession of priests and common people,
all the professions represented,
parades through the streets, plazas, and gates,
of the famous city of Antioch.
At the beginning of the impressive grand
procession, a beautiful ephebe, dressed in white
holds up in his uplifted hands the Cross,
our strength and our hope, the Holy Cross.
The pagans, who were so arrogant in the past,
now shyly, timidly, and hastily
walk away from the procession.
Far away from us, far away let them stay
(so long as they do not renounce their error).
The Holy Cross advances. It brings
consolation and joy to every neighborhood
where Christians live in reverence and joy:
the devout come out from the doors of their houses
and in full exultation bow before it,
the power, the salvation of the universe, the Cross.
It is an annual Christian holiday.
But today it is celebrated, look, more elaborately.
At last, the state has been delivered.
The vilest, the detestable
Julian is no longer a king.
Let us pray for the most pious Jovian.
Aphrodite
Oh, if I could raise
my arm a visor over my eyes
as you entered our room
a flashing Aphrodite as
nature has moulded you: naked and
I was awestruck by your beauty’s
might noiselessly pushing me
into the erotic light
books describe and
dead go through and
I came to my senses
your sensuality’s effusion and
your alive fragrance aroused me
to begged for your wild beauty
Forgetfullness
With my loving heart I got to know you, wild forest.
I drank your secret fragrance in the kiss of the wind.
I waited to pass through you in the moonlit night
when the airy ghost went through your branches.
I got to know you during my erotic nights, wrinkled
sea as if the forehead of contemplation, my thought
went over you like a caress and your bloomed edge
with the fragrant seaweed would always invite me.
My erotic nights got to know you my beautiful flowers
diaphanous, shaded, colorful like lighted signs.
The heavy dew, a kiss and golden fluff
appeared on your eyelids tightly shut in darkness.
Now, bestowed onto the light of denial and altered,
you show me that I may lose my mind’s path.
Are you truly what I knew well? My beloved
flowers, the silvery sea, thick forest full of pines?
As Night Falls
In depth, there is always a secret impulse, indescribable,
from ancient farewells, from far away silences in
cold rooms, but as the night falls again, the panic
returns.
Evil is incurable, and the roof of the house is horrible
threat
for the ones who forget.
Succession
The sun doesn’t think about your hesitations –
it wants you naked and it takes you naked
until the night comes to dress you
After the sun there is repentance
after repentance the sun again
Cherubs
Your eyes get immersed in the aura
of a Cretan and your masterpieces
not semblances of men or
of women but reflections
of angels in a mirror.
Just idols of cherubs
archangels and seraphs with
wings which open and close
like a mysterious fan
in front of the splendor
of a sublime likeness and
a stalactite of your love
descends to moisten all
dryness, to quench all thirst.
Your love, oh great Cretan, for
man, for life, for God.
Here the line between
the spirit and flesh becomes
so indistinguishable
so tragically vague
here the aura of man
and the shadow of god
fuse into a ripple of gray air
into the sadness of a beacon
tears freely cascade and
overwhelm the afternoon heat
love songs unheard off before
tears that become absolution
of a thunderous encounter
between a Giant and a man
who has dared Death many a time
a man who seeks to reach higher.
excerpt
The next morning they wake to a knock on their door around nine. It is another
very bright, warm morning with the sun up on the horizon, setting the sky on
fire, like the fire they shared last night. Birds of various sizes and colors fly over
the area chirping and speaking erotic words and sighs as if suddenly an abundant
peace has spread over the world, as if everyone has forgotten about the war
games and their aftermath.
Emily puts on a pair of shorts and t-shirt; she’s still under the spell of the
previous night’s excitement with the pleasure of being on top or on her side or
under Talal, and all that rocking of the boat all night long every time another
boat went by. But it’s this brightness that mostly amazes her, and she cannot
believe her eyes which are shielded behind sunglasses, not only to protect them
from the sunshine but so that they won’t reveal the secrets of what happened the
previous night beneath the spell of the waves. Could anyone live here for a long
time? She wonders when she remembers the exchange between Talal and
Ibrahim yesterday. Yes, she would love to live here for a long time, with Talal
going up and down the gulf seeing all this beauty and enjoying one another the
same way as last night. Then a new voice comes to her and encourages her with
the statement: you can be happy any place on the globe as long as you are happy
with yourself and with the man you love. The one who dreams of a paradise far
away in a dream location has never enjoyed lovemaking the way you did last
night. Yes, she could live here for a long time, as long as Talal would like, because
her life and happiness are close to this man with the sad eyes and the sweetest
voice.
Ibrahim and Mara are already at the small table at the stern. Talal and Emily
join them for coffee and toast.
“Good morning to you,” Ibrahim says, smiling.
“Good morning, good morning,” Emily and Talal say.
“How was your sleep, my dear?” Mara asks Emily.
“It was wonderful, thank you, Mara.”
Mohamed has started cruising along the smooth water of the Gulf, taking a
southerly direction. Rassan and Abdul sit back and relax while Surnia serves
them breakfast.
They travel for an hour until they come to a place where a couple of small
bays provide plenty of area with smooth, quiet water, away from the rush of
other passing yachts. Mohamed turns off the engine and releases the anchor.
…we’re the rivers you can’t
pass and the more
you drink of our water
the more thirsty you become
and you lean over our water
to admire your own image
and we all run like fools and
you think we’re all alike
and when we dive deep into
the bowels of earth
again a mortal like you
pulls up into the sun
come now and lean over us
look at yourself
the wind blows you towards us
and your violin raises you.
Manolis Aligizakis 