Month: January 2026

Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

and around her nipple; then quite unexpectedly he squeezed her
right nipple a bit, enough to make her squirm of pain and desire.
Suddenly his face darkened, he had the sensation of defeat;
he was losing something he had considered his and only his:
Mary’s body disturbed his mind; was he truly never to enjoy it
again? His eyebrows almost joined creating a deep concern on
the upper part of his face. He stopped arousing her with his hand
and turning he looked deep in Gladys’ eyes.
“What’s going on between them?” He asked.
Sister Gladys was taken aback, her face tightened, why the
image of Mary had to suddenly got between them, she wondered,
but after a thoughtful moment she replied.
“Nothing serious as far as I know.”
“They sure looked serious to me.”
“Just forget of them, ok? They are young and they deserve
to have an interest in one another,” Gladys said to him.
“Somehow I felt that Mary wouldn’t be a good fit in the
School. She is so” he hesitated to use any word, “so pure,” he
added.
“Pure? Ha, what purity did you find in her? Believe me
she can choke the rabbit as they saying goes,” Sister Gladys said
spitefully.
“You think they have slept together?” His insistence irritated
Sister Gladys.
“Stop talking about her, ok?”
Suddenly his face brightened again as if the half-moon
shone a special joyous glint on him taking away the paleness and
leaving behind a light gleam and a smile on his lips.
“Yes, let us play our game, come, come Gladys,” he said
and got up. He took a table napkin from her drawer, folded it,
made a blindfold and tightened it around her eyes.

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

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume VI

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The Lift Operator

And he has a silent deceitfulness in his goodness; he
waits until the light gets tired in its width, to lean and
disclose his secret,
which he will make his, like he did with the secret
of the shadow and its root, of the water and the stone.
Then, embarrassed, he stops in front of the kiosk
of the crippled man to buy a newspaper and insists
to read it with such naturalness, trying to wedge
himself between the opposing titles or between
the fine printed letters that run like ants, poke holes in
and nest in the newspaper as if it is their earth homes.
However, a bird winks at him, and he responds,
a stray dog wags its tail in front of him,
a green leaf shows all its veins to him, and
he smiles

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763785

Nikos Engonopoulos – Poems

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…this song somehow produces sadness
to the person who reads it
and to the one who hears it
though we never hid it from anyone:
if the most beautiful songs
are naturally the saddest
songs written
for the moons
exception of the rule,
write it down,
are the songs written
close to a cataract
and others sung
on a sinking ship
while the siren with the dishevelled
hair accompanies it
and others sang
by a Kore with a harp
under the plucked statue
of an old goddess
and flooded
by the moons
close the blinds and listen to the passerby
the steps you hear
is the rising moon
think of the sea and go to sleep
think of lust and wake up
undo her hair
and flood it
with moons…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3744799

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763734

Poodie James

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excerpt

couldn’t discuss a pending case and that there’s no pending case to
discuss. Typical Williams. It might even be true. Later, the chief
went down to the train wreck and talked with the Great Northern
inspector. That doesn’t mean there’s a connection.”
Winifred searched her memory of Angie Karn’s call.
“I told you that George Pearson’s name came up the other day.”
“I gave him a call,” Sonny said. “After it became obvious that I
knew about his meeting with the mayor, he told me that he agreed
to appear at the hearing. When I asked him what he knew about
Poodie James, he said that Poodie taught his daughter to swim and
is fond of him. Cute. I pressed him about whether Torgerson is
taking direct action against Poodie. I don’t think he knows.”
“We have run a story—only an announcement, really—about
the fact that the council will call a hearing, “ Winifred said. “It’s
probably time to have someone do a backgrounder on hobos in the
valley. The problem, of course, is that if we do, it gives credibility
to Torgerson’s strange little crusade.”
“Nonetheless,” Sonny said, “he’s pursuing it, the council is
involved, the story is alive. It’s news, Mother.”
“Oh, I know it. What an irritating man this Torgerson is. Keep
me up to date.”
Chief Darwin Spanger walked slowly between rows of trees in
his father’s orchard, pausing now and then to examine a cluster of
apples, clear a ditch, adjust a prop. At the orchard’s edge he came
into the last of the day’s sunlight pouring through the notch in the
saddle shaped rock formation at the top of the western ridge that
cradled the valley. Chill air sliding down the slopes met the
warmth rising off the orchard, and the leaves whispered their evening
song. The sun bathed Darwin’s face. He closed his eyes. His
mind began to clear itself of Torgerson, Poodie James, the train
wreck, the long, long day. When he looked up, he saw three figures
making their way along the shale fall below the rock, moving in
and out of light and shadow. Dan, the yellow Lab, took a seat
beside him, ears alert to the hikers’ laughter trickling down the
foothill. Darwin scratched the old dog behind the ears, thinking of…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562868

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08W7SHCMV

HEAR ME OUT

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excerpt

T-Shirt
Wonder do people die of love? And if “yes” do they go to hell where the devils look like you? I wish I could die this very moment. Now!
Just to meet you; to hear your voice whisper my punishment in my ear.
In fact my life is a hell without you…as it was when we were together.
And since I’ve died of love, then to hell, my love, as long as you will be there too.
I wear your t-shirt. The one you left behind when you gathered your cloths because it was unwashed. And when it was cleaned you weren’t here anymore.
It’s left behind, with so other, older t-shirts that keep me company at night, they wrap and warm up my body.
It was difficult for me to explain to the girl who ironed them that they were mine, although bigger size and she shouldn’t put them away in your drawer.
These t-shirts are my property.
Each of them is sewed together with a piece of my soul.
They the “lessons” I have paid for the life I have lived up to now.
When we used to sleep, you were my clot. I needed wear nothing else.
Now, I wear the t-shirts, I wrap myself in my comforter and sleep in my bed diagonally.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562946

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763807

Fury of the Wind

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excerpt

She gripped the covers and stared at the curtains
moving in the breeze from the open window. The wailing, howling
cry continued without letup – Margaret’s laughter from her dream.
But this eerie sound was not laughter, and it was interspersed by
occasional yelps like those of a dog in anguish.
Recognition dawned suddenly. “Coyotes,” Sarah said aloud. The
sound of her own voice calmed her.
She lay back against the pillows and pulled the sheet up to her
chin. When the howling stopped she whispered derisively into the
sudden silence, “Sarah Roberts, coward.” O
Sarah next awakened to the tantalizing aroma of bacon and coffee.
When she opened her eyes she could see light streaming in through
a gap in the curtains. She lay still, wondering how to face Ben with
the news that she wouldn’t marry him. Breaking her promise was
aberrant to her. And she certainly had promised to marry him.
Otherwise, why was she here alone with him in this house, on this
barren prairie a thousand miles from anything familiar?
Finally, hunger pangs overcame the pangs of anxiety. She got up
and quickly dressed in slacks and a light blouse. She felt annoyed
with herself that she hadn’t thought to bring water into the room
the night before so that she could, at the very least, have splashed
her face and washed her hands. In the house in Tillsonburg she
used to rise early enough to bathe before her mother awoke and
required attention.
When she stepped into the kitchen she saw Ben standing at the
stove. Grease sizzled in a frying pan into which he was breaking
eggs. He looked up briefly when she said, “Good morning, Ben,”
and nodded his head in response.
She dipped water from the stove reservoir into a basin and carried
it to a wash stand in the corner of the room.
“Want some bacon and eggs?”
Sarah half turned. “Yes, please, I would. I’m very hungry this
morning.”
“No wonder,” he muttered, “after the amount you ate last night.”
She glanced at him quickly, childishly grateful that he had noticed
even this much about her. But, as she dried her face …

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073530

Twelve Narratives of the Gypsy

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He’s gone, the one you, oh
Romiosini had on the throne
higher than all palaces the king
of kings higher than all kings
the Tower raised on top of
Euphrates is tumbled
the crown of Romiosini and
the reverent moon glow.
The Square Tower with
its eight corners is tumbled
Tower with embrasures
Tower full of windows
that was aimed at Babylon
that was gazing at Syria
Tower with snow that couldn’t
melt by the faraway light.
Tauris, Antitauris and Libanese
bowed in front of it and
the Caliphs of Baghdad and
Tarcea with its castles…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D3LP7NW6

Troglodytes

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VI
The gullible soft memory of the clock
like the sweetness of the Kore’s puberty
and the blue breeze’s soft caressing
recreate dreams of times bygone
with their crossroads immersed in light
when suddenly the calmness of the dream
turns into the apocalyptic enormity
of a wave engulfing singing stars
or the nebula’s untouched vulva.
Before the gullible clock dances
on the contour of a flower petal
the monk crafts an ache and
the slender palm trees sway
until the anger of the elements
emerges catapulting fireballs
of scorch out of the fiery pit.
Anger of the elements unravels its
destruction, hurling the burning curse
from the depths of the earth
to the top of the sky,
to the crocuses, snow breath or
the osprey’s clasping talons
and to this hymn’s consonance.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186583

Tasos Livaditis – Selected Poems

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Simple Words
Evening is almost the same as all others: tediousness,
the faint light, lost paths
and suddenly someone says to you, “I’m poor”, as though
giving you a great promise.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562930

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763831

Constantine Cavafy

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Passage
Those things he shyly imagined as a student are open,
revealed to him now. And he goes around,
he stays up all night and is led astray.
And as it is (for our art) right,
his new, hot blood is enjoyed by lust.
His body is won over
by devious, erotic drunkenness; his young
limbs give in to it.
Thus, a simple young man
becomes the subject of our attention, and for a moment,
he passes through the High World of Poetry
the sensitive young man with his fresh, hot blood.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562856

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763823