LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS

2023 Longlist Announcement

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Resurrection

He looks again observes discerns

through a distance that has no meaning at all

through endurance that doesn’t humiliate anymore

the moth balls in the paper bag

the dry grape leaves in the leaky pail

the bicycle on the opposite sidewalk.

Suddenly

he hears the knock behind the wall

that same one coded totally alone

the deeper knock. He feels like an innocent

who forgot the dead.

At night he doesn’t

use earplugs anymore – he’s left them

in the drawer along with his medals

and with his last most unsuccessful mask.

Only he doesn’t know this is the last one

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Old Man

He walks his dog

other side of the street

fierce wind exhausts itself

among tree branches, dancing leaves

when old man suddenly stops

focusing eyes on the ground

he slowly leans

over cement sidewalk

even more slowly he gets up

straightening aching back

holding by it stem a dry maple leaf

which he brings close to

his eyes and observes carefully

turning it to the other side

examines in detail

the curled ribs of the leaf

its hunched body

bereft of flexibility

just like his

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VI

Nights with their tightly shut doors,

in the safety of a dirty bed

in a dream that erases the footsteps

that trample darkness,

tired dream, silent, only with sperm, with saliva

spasmodically shutting the cracks of screams

momentarily,

and again in the lustful warmth of nakedness. 

Days with the totally hidden rust of tears

in the dark brand new suits,

days trapped in the personally won bread

and then, after the end of the celebration,

the harbor master supervises the carrying of its bones;

and from good morning to good morning, from

one silence to another,

the fear —

smoking half a cigarette between two cadavers.

Where they deny me they’ll deny me again,

forgotten, ignored, a burdensome ancient

acquaintance,

a mask ravaged by horror and frost

like change in front of the fear of change

where they sent me away and spat on me

where they smiled at me and then they pretended

the future smokestacks, while all along, it was like

Saturday evenings with their fiancé, and

I was left alone with extended hand amid

the deserted autumns with

only the wind that applied salt deep in the wounds

that kisses opened,

there where we felt hungry together and now

they don’t share their hunger with me

where we ate together and now they don’t

even give me a piece of bread or coal

where we walked together and they now deny me

each step and stone

where we slept and now they deny me sleep

and hope

where we lived and now they deny me the door

of their houses

where we lived and now they deny me the certainty

and patience

there is where I shall go.

Because something that doesn’t vanish

exists in everyone

something exists in everyone that life holds

in its two hands tightly.

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Diminio

Strong sun reflections on the clean window panes

criss-crossing each other, the chimney of the small

house supplemented by the arias of the cicadas;

the sunlit sea was climbing up the road during

the high noon and was washing away paper bags,

watermelon seeds, newspapers; the afternoon was

empty. Nothing was left in the houses but the honorable

swaying of the white curtain and a sweaty handkerchief

on the big warm bed. 

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ADVERSE EROS (1982)

                             For Timothy

                                       But is there any comfort to be found?

                                       Man is in love and loves what vanishes.

                                       What more is there to say?

                                                                             ~W.B. Yeats  

IN THE FOREST

I saw you among the leaves

in the waters

in the light of the leaves

in the leaves of the waters

in the moon’s reflection in the water

I saw you in the lakes, in waterfalls

in the lakes that light creates

in the waterfalls where light tumbles

the light encircling your body.

You were coming to the opening of the trees

walking, floating

over dewdrops

over smooth shining caresses

in the insubordinate black of the night…

ah, the night steams behind your shoulders

steams on wings

and a mysterious triangle shines

on your chest: dazzling target

of beauty.

From the grassy areas to the haired tops

up high to the crowns

of the superior branches  

the highest frieze of lunacy

in nature

the voices of the moth corpses

to the spring of springs

the unbearable bird of sorrow

I hear with your voice

that rises from the depths

where the bile and the soul

in one voice refuse to die.

Everything that’s yours raves

in the thickets, in the grassy empires

of the dreams

in the glorious silence of the ivy

in the silent syncope of the fern

the vinous fainting of the autumn leaves.

Your meaning gushes out:

that no life

is stronger than lust

no act more final

than poetry.

There where you touched me

where I flowered

where I almost died

from where I call you

adorning your other nature

there where I was crucified

where I suffered

for your fairy-like grace

there where Eros was light

but with heavy consequence for the water.

Untamed in the ruling of reality

tell me, how I might see you again

coming out to the opening of the trees

with your thin legs

wrapped in wisterias

with the sperm of birds

in the roots of your hair

you who brings the sky

that I spent hours gazing out the window

the crows shifting their nests

you who speaks the words

that resemble wild marigolds on the hillside

you whose shining lips-speech

you the superior being

of poetry in the creak.

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POEM BY NAPOLEO LAPATHIOTIS

LONGING

Much do I long for rainy autumn

with its large and heavy raindrops

its withering of leaves and sadness of the dusk

that once intoxicated me.

The heat of summer burns me

with its high noon sun

and its clear diaphanous skies

while my heart craves the pure north wind

and hail to fall among dry leaves.

Then I shall stoop silently

like the sundown

sweetly to recall, who knows…

the last summer, like a far-off violin

that dives like a whisper in my heart.

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