Ηeat Wave
Soft island hills
lapping on sea froth
cicadas fire up
their endless arias
come close to me, you said to me,
stand before me like Hermes
a naked graceful cypress
that I’ll keep you
in my eyes for
the long winter days
when we’ll be apart
moments I’ll
yearn for your warmth
come close to me, I beg you
let me touch your skin
the day is fiery
and unbearable like
the body’s conflagration
Long Listed for the 2023 Griffin Poetry Awards
Symphony I
Then, who was the guilty person? Let him
appear;
and thousands of people went out and stood
in front of the army and declared their guilt
some because of their greatness and others
because of their ego, some because of bravery
and others out of desperation
and all because of the need to be loved:
to the arms…
Only the roads remain dusty and deserted,
old beggars of men
walking along, on moribund cobblestones, with
their drenched bags on their shoulders
OCEAN’S MARCH (Excerpt III)
The mirror designing dawn
and garden broke
Day before yesterday we buried the first swallow
with the sorrowful flutes of flowers
Then the children sat alone
before the evening window
staring at the dying sun
Behind the white wall of the yard
the road was waking up
and as the golden light was melting at a distance
the great shadow of mountains was rising
with the silent footstep of death
up to our white hands
to our hearts
up to our bowing foreheads
Mother Who is chiming
the horizon’s azure bell?
Manolis Aligizakis 