An Essay on the Structure of the Human Imaginative

Excerpt

That which makes it possible for something to be is Being (ta oũsia,
τὰ οὐσία). Thus, from the various possibilities of Being, through
a process of union, the universe comes into existence, together with
the natural phenomena and the elemental forces of nature embodied
in the image of the Cyclopes–terrifying beings outside the ordinary
order of existence, possessing a single eye and immense strength.
In keeping with what was almost a universal characteristic of ancient
religious creations, the Greek pantheon was likewise consumed
by internal struggles for supreme power.
Thus, according to the Greek myth, Uranus, angered and made
jealous by the great power of his children, the Titans, imprisoned
them in the depths of the Earth, depriving them of the possibility
of ever again beholding the light of day. Their mother, Gaia, suffered
terribly beneath the burden she carried. She urged her children to
rebel against their father, yet fear prevented them from obeying,
save for her youngest son, Cronus. By cunning he usurped his father’s
throne. To punish Cronus10, Nyx conceived an entire host of
dreadful deities: Thanatos, Death; Eris, Discord; Apate, Deceit; Ker,
Destruction; Hypnos, Sleep, together with dreams and dark apparitions;
and Nemesis, the inexorable goddess who avenges transgressions.
These deities spread terror, discord, deception, conflict, and
misfortune throughout the world over which Cronus reigned.
It is evident that the first part of this myth makes no mention
whatsoever of a creation of an anthropomorphic kind…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763890

Tasos Livaditis – Poems, Volume II

Long-listed for the 2023 Griffin Poetry Awards

8
Therefore, when I kneeled so innocently, they all
thought I was imploring, although I kneeled
because it was autumn
or how else can I say it: the deadliest sin is not
to love oneself,
and one day, I couldn’t take it anymore, “Do you know
me?” I asked them, “No,” they told me; thus, I took my
revenge, and I was never deprived of the distant sounds
but don’t ask me what may be happening to the crazy
people: what else but that they entertain a child who
didn’t want to grow up and
since the dream books are old-fashioned, I emigrate
to the other edge of my umbrella, being an alcoholic,
and since it started raining back in the long-ago days
the smell of cypresses started coming in through
the windows like music that you guess its end while
the old woman was explaining the Resurrection to me
“He was afraid they could otherwise forget him,”
she said,
though for me, I prefer to hang a watch on my vest
than to hang myself; it would be as if I were trying
to explain too many things
exactly like a man could perhaps play a violin with
one hand, when he must save his life with the other
one
and I was so exhausted that when I observed myself,
passing in front of mirrors, I could only see
the unspoken word
and having nothing better to do, I sat and grew rich
(In their absence, of course, since they had all turned
their backs on me)
However, I don’t spend much, and I feel content hearing
the distant whistle of the train that makes the dog rise
like a man who places something in the tray
of the beggar
and yes, I know I waste my time and energy and
the pages I write get fogged up from room to room
and they’ll have a different meaning under the lamp
at night and in the morning, you will have
to get dressed again, only to feel pain again.
Goodbye, then, my good fortitude, I’m going to get
busy with my crazy men or talking about their shoes,
so uncared as if a hand that knew a lot more put them
on to them
and perhaps if I started whistling, everything would
turn out better
or if I wasn’t so prone to these things like the stupid
station master who’s paid not to let me travel or like
the poet who becomes innocent again after
a little sleep.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4051627

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676398X

Nostos and Algos

Routine
Same path every morning
from the train station to the office
two blocks of a walk, three
newspaper stands and halfway
two beggars
dark sky-lobe drenching them
as they strangely multiply along
with the days going by and the index
down for another day, gold
off the mark, the price of oil dropping
what to do with the need for
exhausts and fumes for
statistics that make you wonder
are we truly making progress or careening
brakeless down off-ramps to Hell?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763920

In Turbulent Times

Excerpt

‘So it’s Dr Hamilton who’s backing you then?’
‘Yes. He was looking around for something to invest his money in. Now there’s a man who believes in making lots of money. He’s shrewd. Anyway, he reckoned that building houses in Belfast was a sure-fire winner. He came to Glasgow and we talked business. We formed a limited company with Clifford as chairman holding the majority interest. I am the managing director. My family has shares. Some business associates of Clifford’s in Belfast have shares. Fiona has shares of her own. And business is booming.’
‘May it long continue to do so.’ Nora raised her glass and drank. She put the glass on the table and cupped her hands round it. ‘Why did you want to get away from Glasgow?’
‘I was waiting for that one,’ Ian declared with a smile. ‘I wanted to get away not so much from Glasgow itself as from my life there. If I had wanted to run away from Glasgow itself I certainly wouldn’t have headed for Belfast. No. I wanted to escape from the clutches of my family. That sounds unkind, but I know now that it’s true. My mother and my sister were overbearing and invincible. They still are. My brother became a weak, nervous wreck. My brother-in-law is even worse. Neither of them made it into the forces, though it would have done both of them a world of good. I hate to say it, but even getting killed would have been good for them.’
Nora did not like to hear of men being killed in war, even if they might have been better off dead. She stared quietly at her drink, a sadness in her eyes. Then to change the subject she said, ‘How do you like staying at the cottage?’
Ian looked as guilty as a truant schoolboy. ‘I’m not staying at the cottage,’ he said. ‘I booked in here last night. I couldn’t bear to be up there on my own amid all those gloomy mountains.’
‘So you moved closer to Corrymore.’ Nora smiled coyly, seductively. ‘How do you like staying here then?’
‘This is definitely my scene.’ Ian fixed his eyes on Nora’s. ‘I’m like John Simpson. I wasn’t made for the Spartan life. I’m enjoying myself here. I have a room with a beautiful view of the sea. Would you like to see it?’
‘Let’s go for a walk along the beach first,’ Nora suggested. ‘Then you can show me this beautiful view of yours.’

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562904

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763270

Entropy

Flow and Stream

…the seed we planted
is not for this soil
it will spring out to meet the borders of things
to get to know
the passages to destinations.
What the road leaves behind
is a mite of mortality
seagull floating over the illusion of distance
we shall exist for a while among
the contribution of the waves
where the rock dreams of becoming a mountain
the grass of becoming a tree in the night
the horizon line thread of the ephemeral
the flower I could cut for you.
The river has many homelands
it flows, it doesn’t think
it flows loaded with seasons and people
it leaves behind it
watery moments
short flowery nights
on its flow to an endless secret.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPCRLJC6

Second Advent of Zeus

Aphrodite
And Aphrodite granted me her reddish
hymen which I longed
to push open
tough veil of my ambition
hymn that
I sang over the earth’s
green bosom
on white bed sheets rough
and unapologetic
where I learned
to measure
feminine superiority with shades of colour
that I was born to enjoy
during the harsh hours
of peace.
Suddenly, I became impious.
Her arms went around my neck
holding me captive
in lustful thoughts
enjoyable and unspent
and I saw inside my grave
oars of my boat leading me
across the little cove
to where I always seek to arrive:
into her embrace
impious that I became
and an apostate
the profane supporter of bulbs
ardent defender of the oath we took
under the auspices of the full moon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763912

Neo-Hellene Poets: An Anthology of Modern Greek Poetry

Orphic Hymn
Beyond the minds of the thoughtless
functionary and orphic hymnist
I bring back the hymn
of an ancient light worship
as my thoughts run to it now
a river stashed away
the people’s buzzing but a surprise
to the rhythm of my guitar
that during the night I start to climb
the difficult-to-reach mountaintop
first, I wish to hail the Apollonian light
while down where people live
sleep and darkness still prevail

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562959

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763955

Kariotakis-Polydouri: The Tragic Love Story

For my brother
You are a man. I’ve remained the same
as the years that went by left me
a strange boy who has aged
and I don’t hope for anything more, my brother
my dreams scattered from my hands
like rose petals I’ve given to the wind.
Oh, how I wish you could forget
the concerns of life that consume you
and come over here, pass your arm
around me and, leaning, you’d hear
the passion that has pushed down
the one you once loved so much.
My dear brother, I would tell you in a low tone
how all people have hated me
and how I ploughed along straight
going daily a little further away from them
not knowing which direction I was going
not knowing which places would hold me
and as you are my beloved brother
and when seeing your teary eyes
I would forget all the struggles of life
and gazing far away to the western sky
the little clouds that turned golden
kissing the top of the cypress tenderly
I would seek a simple sun-flooded city
and the big house where we spent our first
years and where we played marbles.
I’d tell you about the joys I still enjoy
about the ones that have vanished
and for the days that will never come back.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562951

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763459

Straits and Turns

Excerpt

And he did. He got up, took her hand and pulling her close, he hugged her. His lips locked with hers. She was happy that her girlfriend was wrong, he didn’t have any strange sexual preferences, she kissed him passionately, and his hands travelled over her body. Hungry hands searched between her legs and touched her anywhere he liked, anywhere she liked him to touch her, too, and their sexual desire was fired to the point of no return. She stood against the wall, her right leg open. He inserted his fingers inside of her, and soon enough, he had unzipped himself and, pulling her undergarment to the side, he pushed his erection as deep as he could, standing there against the wall. A few movements were enough for both to reach the exhilarating apex of an orgasm that completed their short interaction, and, both happy and smiling, they fixed their clothes. They went back to the place they were a few minutes earlier, where the other two came out from the class and joined them.
Some time passed, and Basil came from the pool hall to inform them that he had played an excellent game of billiards and beat Sakis, to the pleasure of the most pool hall regulars. Surely no one paid attention to him. They all had been absorbed in their thoughts. The two girls pulled a little away when Litsa said to Rena,
“You shouldn’t talk badly about him, he’s just great, believe me.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your boyfriend.”
“You know, though, I’m thinking of Basil…truly feel for him, he’s been alone all along…Sometimes I think I should be more caring towards him.”
At that moment, their supervising teacher appeared, and their conversations stopped as they all walked into the classroom for their exam. They sat in the seats they had already selected. Basil sat in the middle row, and the other two couples were in each of the other rows at the far end of the class.
“Why do you sit so far away?” Mr. Andreopoulos, their teacher, asked, though he didn’t care to continue, knowing that an answer at this time wouldn’t make any difference, so he called Litsa, who went over and took the exam papers, five copies, and passed them over…

https://draft2digital.com/book/4250839#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume III

THE EXILE DIARIES

23rd of February

White, swollen moon
like the belly
of the drowned.
Things will be alright,
Manolis said.
Manolis had a good heart.
Manolis
deep in the water
among the blind seaweed.

24th of February

The flashlight glows onto
two broken arms
and you couldn’t tell whether
the broken leg was yours.
It was when we met
under the big wall
each of us straddling
that broken leg that belonged to us.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763971