Featured Poet: Jenny McRobert

Persephone (excerpt)

At that time the rabbits go down to the roads; their eyes

shine because of the headlights of the last cars. Totally

flat silence is spread, you can’t fold it; one of its corners

is dipped in the river, the other rises to the south, faraway

into the sea, the third one vanishes in the opposite island

the fourth one behind the moon with the yellow grass.

It’s nice during the autumn. I breathe; the sun loses its

dominion, its powerful conceit; they all relax and become

themselves again, so much so that I think, perhaps death

is our true self. The crystal, diaphanous evening star, rises

higher, shines auspiciously over the forest, like a tiny drop

of crystal water, radiating close to us, as if glued onto the

window panes, and at the same time far away; a white

glow, a purified tear full of glitter joy and futility,

a silent, deep certainty of the end and of eternity.

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Μαργαρίτα Καραπάνου – Για την ομορφιά

Eternal

Calligraphic neck slightly raised

lips expecting my spring song

eagerly opening to faint breeze

closed eyelids erotic image

galloping in my mind

as I lower my head

hair touching

lips approaching

fiery yearning conflagrating

finger caressing your chin

the lock at last

the kiss: Eros blushing

https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/y26q9n https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BKHW4B4S

POEM BY NANOS VALAORITIS

THE RIDDLE

The root of a tree consumes my shape

a stone pricks my finger

and skins my brain

my eyes become prey of the leaves

owls hide behind my eyelids

my steps self-delete, stay still

become mouths among the memorial shrubs

a butterfly sucks all of my being

sparks and smoke come out of my nostrils

like the dragons who were corals in ancient times

like the thistle among the grass blades

wind whirls forget of me and deny me

flowers stick their tongues out to me

terraces walk over me

I hate the springs and I trade their wishes

I’m the favored of the waves like the pebbles

I refuse to retreat opposite the wind

to melt in the furnaces of heated baths

to burn on charcoal like a crab

to make superhuman efforts to talk

to save myself

from the conflagration I alone started

I shine like a diamond but I’m not a star

who am I then if I’m not who I am

a heavenly or earthly body, massive, fluid or airy?

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Η 60ή Διάσκεψη για την Ασφάλεια: Στα πρόθυρα νευρικού κλονισμού

Philoctetes (excerpt)

In your isolation you thought of revenge, perhaps,

of your recognition or at least for the significance

of your arms.

Yet, now, you have been vindicated, I won’t hide it,

I’ve come for these, as you have guessed: these

will finally bring victory to the Hellenes

(on this the oracle is clear) your arms, in my hands.

But above all I’ve come for you. I wouldn’t accept

your arms so that I’d be recognized or as a reward

for the deliverance I’m offering you: to take you along

to my ships with your incurable wounds and your loneliness;

and what deliverance? Such words are fashionable these days.

We’ve learned them — what more can we say?

No one has the time to see nor to speak.

https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/5pnz8y https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0851M9LTV

Gleam

In the comfort of your heart

his features gleamed

flooding the moonlight

when suddenly your loneliness

overwhelmed you

he had left you for his annual

adventure to the woods,

an amateur forest adventurer

he wished he could become,

and grabbing the phone

you start to babble with your girlfriend

distracting your hour with aimless talk

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THE GATE

Excerpt XXV

The dead are different than their statues. Maria doesn’t

like to be afraid. Fear is the movement of the motionless.

Fear of the moving when it becomes motionless. She had

descended even deeper. Her ascend was a lot longer. She

didn’t like to turn and look at those buttons behind her.

The steps were leading to the top, the knee joint wasn’t

obeying; a spider. Two spiders.

How many legs a spider has? How its saliva freezes

so fast? How it suspends itself holding onto its saliva?

Self-assured, it climbs, descends, stops, observes.

The guards outside; a cigarette butt stuck on the nails

of the boot; the foot, dirty, in the holed sock. The candle

smells of closed chest, into which you could find the sword,

the old clock, the wax lemon blossoms, the half finished

embroidery with the purple and yellow chrysanthemums

the scratched leather gloves, spools, and needles;

how many halves of the half and divided even more? Helen

didn’t know; she was combing her hair

in front of the big mirror; her softly gleaming hair shadowed

those sitting on the sofa with their hats on their knees, with

their regretful hand under the hats, again ready to ask someone

or themselves. Only death is whole, Telis, said.

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