Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

…flowing in his veins. Marcus knew well he could graduate from
this school tonight he could take his diploma tonight he could
put the Kamloops Indian Residential School behind him and
behind his sister by just learning how to kill. This was the lesson
he had to learn tonight and the power of such a lesson kept him
quiet in the closet just behind Sister Gladys’ desk.
Suddenly footsteps were heard. A door opened and a man
walked along the long hallway going towards the sleeping quarters
of the girls. Marcus moved the closet door a bit open enough to
discern Father Thomas going his regular direction. Marcus walked
out of the closet and twelve steps further he hid behind the door
leading upstairs to the rooms of the priests and nuns. Moments
passed, moments that felt like eons when suddenly Marcus stopped
even his heartbeats as he felt on his body the back of the door opening
slowly. Two persons entered: a girl, his sister Deborah, held by
the hand by Father Thomas who was right next to her.
Marcus charged like a thunder and before the priest turned
to look he had wielded the knife twice up and down striking the
back of the priest in two places. The priest, struck by surprise,
tried to turn and look who was doing the killing when he received
two more strikes on his chest. With a loud cry Father Thomas
stepped backwards and losing his balance he fell on his back and
his head hit the wooden post of the stairs and with a noisy thud
he collapsed on the floor.
“Let’s go,” Marcus said to his sister and taking her by
the hand the priest was holding a few seconds earlier he led her
towards the main entrance door which they found locked. They
ran to the basement and to the carpentry shop, Marcus climbed
on a short ladder and opened one of the two windows. Deborah
first then Marcus crawled out of the building and, running as fast
as they could distanced themselves from the mausoleum.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume V

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THE DEAD HOUSE

We didn’t mention it to the adults because as soon as
the kitchen window opened the cloud of smoke rose
sideways and stayed over the hallway, high cloud,
threatening, with a glass helmet with a hanging horse
tail; a lone, aromatic cloud, beastly and fleshless,
with no bones yet powerful. Thus, we were listening
behind the doors up to midnight until a red, sparkling
sleep took over us). Yes, the soldiers were singing,
joking with the servant girls, sometimes they took off
their boots and rubbed their thick toes with their hands,
then they’d wipe the wine off their fleshy lips
or they scratched between their hairy legs
they’d grab the breasts of women accidentally
and they sand again (we opened to them even in
sleep), they sang with their faces covered in the
dirty hair, maintaining the rhythm with their barefoot
legs on the tiles or with their fingers on the water
pitcher or the glass or the flat wood they used
to mince meat on the table, in a low tone so
they wouldn’t be heard by the officers inside; then
their Adam’s apple went up and down like a knot
of a thick rope pulled by two opponents, like the knot
of a rope pulled from a deep water well, like a knot
in your viscera.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763726

Jazz with Ella

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excerpt

Ivan Nikolaevich, the second rate agent. Still, she wanted the director to know that she had been correct in her suspicions.
“Da, da, yes, of course,” nodded the functionary, pawing through his desk drawer searching for something. The man’s an idiot, she thought. This is the quality of worker who stands guard over the country! Saints preserve us, as my old grandmother used to say. Finally, the man produced another form, this one on blue paper. “In order to use the official phone line, you must fill in this form.”
“Phone him now!” Natasha raised her voice in hopes that the supervisor would hear her and look out his door. “I’m not filling in one more form!”
The man’s expression did not change but this time he abandoned the new form, picked up the receiver and asked her for the number. After some dialling, waiting and dialling again, he announced that he could not get through. He replaced the receiver quietly. “The supervisor will attend to your complaint tomorrow,” he told her.
Natasha struggled to control her breathing. “Tomorrow WILL BE TOO LATE. She’s passing through the line now; I can see her from here.” Indeed, Lona had already slipped through the passport control while they had been on the phone. The young man’s face creased in a troubled frown. “Very well, comrade. I will take the name of the tourist and her flight number and pass it on to the customs officials myself.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Natasha thought. “I’ll go with you,” she said aloud. She took a certain perverse pleasure in being in on the moment of discovery. Of course the poor fool Chopyk would be angry with her…
“I’m sorry, comrade, that will not be possible,” the guard replied. “It is not permitted to pass through that door into the airport again. You must leave by the fire exit.” He gestured at a door on the far side of the room. “It is a regulation. Thank you and good day.”
Natasha drew herself up to her full five feet, four inches, cast one more withering glare at the man, and stalked toward the fire exit and out of the lives of the tour group from Canada.
“Documents, please.” Jennifer watched as Lona, standing in front of her, tensed at the command. She could feel her own apprehensiveness growing as she waited, her toes behind the yellow line. This first barrier marked Passport Control was a preview to the inspection room.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562892

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Orange

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First Kiss
Under the scandalous moonlight
her body shone
like a naked
statue of Aphrodite
opulent whispers and awe
overtook me for the first time
that I glanced at
the beauty of Earth
so close
so tragically naked
that suddenly I smelled
paradisiacal kisses

https://draft2digital.com/book/3746001#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763750

Titos Patrikios – Selected Poems

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Bad Company

Bedridden, marshy colors
words crawl like lizards
amid papers and mouths —
so much disgust for beauty
that pooled in its watery shape
and we constantly find an excuse
not to leave anything behind.
The company of naked,
authentic things is so bad.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562972

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08L1TJNNF

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume I

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Nude
Here in the untidiness of the room
between the dusty books
and the old people’s portraits
between the yes and the no of so many shadows
one band of motionless light
here in this position
where you undressed one night

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562834

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763076

Hours of the Stars

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Poll Star
To let myself be taken
by the love of the compass
myth of day was stitched onto the sky
by the joyous crucifiers
serpents and beasts shed
their height and
the black bad attire of earth and stone
when Dream wakes up and
the silent fields
open wide to the speech of leaves

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562939

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763408

Introspection

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I defined my steps next to the footprints
of philosophers and craftsmen, next
to ancient priests and priestesses and
I, the loner, guarded wholeness during
the moonlit nights and dark days of my people
expecting their reward on a future day
I stood like a guard against mediocrity
against banality, the second-class attitude, and
I defended the right of my people, and
I declared
I have been my people’s landmark
in the immenseness of my life
where borders don’t exist and only
the eternal ancient beauty stands
I, the loner, alone shall recant
ancient oracles, trying to guide and
console my sorrowful kin from
the Eastern evil that came to our lands
which demanded blind obedience and
rewarded the pious with the afterlife
riches, in today’s modern days when
with a click of a mouse, one speaks
to someone on the other side of the galaxy
mediocrity reigned supreme

https://draft2digital.com/book/4118210#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763777

George Seferis – Collected Poems

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Our Sun
This sun was mine and yours: we shared it
who suffers behind the golden silk, who dies?
One woman beating her dry breasts cried
‘Cowards
took my children and tore them to pieces
you killed them
gazing with a strange look at the fireflies at dusk
absentminded in a blind contemplation.’
The blood dried up on the hand made green
by a tree
a worrier was asleep clutching the spear that
cast some light to his side.
The sun was ours, we saw nothing behind the gold
embroidery
later on the messengers came, out of breath and dirty
mumbling unintelligent words
twenty days and nights on the barren earth with only thorns
twenty days and nights feeling the horses’ bellies
bleeding
and not a moment’s break to drink the rain water.
You said let them rest first and then they can speak,
the light dazzled you
They died saying ‘we have no time’ touching
some sunrays
you’d forgotten that none rests.
One woman cried out ‘Cowards’ like a dog in the night
sometime ago she’d have been beautiful like you
with wet mouth, alive veins under her skin
with love.
This sun was ours; you kept the whole of it
you didn’t want to follow me
and then I learned of these things behind the gold
and the silk
we have no time. The messengers spoke the truth.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096TTS37J

Redemption

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excerpt

“Would you like to have a drink?”
“Thank you, Dean, a coffee would be great.”
The dean’s wife walked in, greeted Hermes politely, asked what
he would like in his coffee, and discreetly left them alone.
“Well, Hermes, I would like to get directly to the point, so let
me start by asking how you like this offer from the school. It is a great
position for a young man, don’t you think?”
“Once again, Dean, I would like to thank you. Yes, indeed, it is an
excellent position, and I am quite inclined to say yes to you, although I
still need to know a few more details before I make my decision.”
He was quite clear in his words, and the dean appreciated it.
“I see with pleasure that you like to walk on steady ground,
Hermes. I couldn’t expect anything less than that; it is a bold move
nonetheless,” the dean said as his wife came in with the coffee.
“I hope it is to your liking,” the wife said after serving Hermes.
“I’m sure it is, Madam. Thank you.”
She walked out, and the dean carried on with their conversation,
which all women usually did in this country and in others
around the globe; however, Hermes noticed certain disguised hurt,
some concealed disturbance that had occurred, perhaps lately, and
which was evident in the mannerisms of the lady. Surely it wasn’t his
issue, and he let it be at that as the Dean started,
“Things will unfold like this. You need to go abroad and specialize
in a subject of your choice for two years. The assistant of the
previous professor currently occupies the chair of economics, and
we look forward to having a new professor there.”
“You have talked to the Minister of Education, Dean?”
“Of course, and I’ve mentioned to him that I consider you the
best for this position right now.”
“Thank you so much, Dean. You mentioned last time that you
have also taken care of my expenses for two years of studies abroad.
Could you elaborate a little?”
“Don’t worry about the financial part of this, Hermes. I have
investigated every detail. The scholarship funds will be enough…

https://draft2digital.com/book/4172538#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763858