Nikos Engonopoulos – Poems

Trap of the Castaways
I don’t know what happens in the wild high mountains
at night or in the middle of the day. However, I know
all about the mysterious ghosts that live alone on peaks
of deserted hills. I know their habits well and that they
don’t distance themselves from the high places they
have chosen as their residence. How the wanderer who
passes close by or from afar, noon hour or evening,
discerns them, sees them, sometimes fluttering like war
banners, other times taking strange shapes of four pieces
of wood under the cover of a thick layer of dry cypress
branches, like the tents Albanian shepherds put together
like the echo of a flute. Other times they travel on faraway
unexplored seas, on board ancient oil tanks, yet always,
under the Hellenic flag, certainly in memory of the god
Pan. Thus, the simple, natural, logical, and even psychological

result is to leave the factory lights on during the night
and the huge piles of garbage and empty cans in the fields.
Everything in the name of Pan. Yet, the electrical lights
Prove to be useless and only sometimes, here and there,
light wind-stricken seashores, wooden abandoned shacks,
seaweed and petrified bones of the flood animals and
marble busts of emperors and poets.

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

Orange

Response
In the tempest’s wrath
I longed for
a glimmer of hope
in the heat of July
I seek the tanned
smooth body of the woman
and the north wind said
find your path
in your ancestor’s footsteps
lean and reverently lift
the marble over their gravesite
to feel their warmth and
I asked the southwest wind
where is my sunshine
and it said,
it hides
in your heart

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763750

The Circle

Excerpt

Now Hakim finds the opportunity to get back to the subject which has been
on his mind for the past two days.
“Please tell me, my uncle, what you know about Jennifer’s dad and the
Admiral? What work, in particular, do they do for the CIA?”
Ibrahim looks at him closely, “It is a long story,my son; however, you deserve
the truth. I promise we’ll discuss that on our trip to New York; leave it alone for
the time being. By the way, let me ask you a question. How do you see your
relationship with young Jennifer? How do you see yourself in the next little while
with her, or is she just a flirt whom you’ll leave behind when you return home?
You know, you may find yourself with a lot more responsibilities than you have
in mind so far.”
Hakim is unprepared for such a discussion, but Ibrahim is right; he has to
make up his mind regarding his relationship with Jennifer, sooner or later. He
asks himself the same question sometimes and doesn’t have the answer. He’s not
sure where he wants their relationship to go, not yet.
“I don’t know, my uncle; I like Jennifer. I like her a lot, but I haven’t thought
of anything beyond the present. She’s just a girl I see these days.”
“You mean she hasn’t touched you in a special way?”
Really, has she touched him in a special way? He wonders. He turns and looks
deep into his uncle’s eyes, and the old man who knows life sees in Hakim’s eyes a
young man in love. He smiles at him and says, “I see that she has touched you in a
lot of different ways, my dear son. That being said, you are a young man, and a
young woman will always be welcomed next to you. Whomever you choose to
have next to you is going to be my favorite one. Remember, always remember
the priority of things and devote the necessary time to each. You will learn as you
go. She also has to know how far she can go with her wants, when you need to put
extra time into the family business. Women are always welcome in the life of a
man, particularly a young man. Our relationships with them are of a certain
kind; each of us has his own way of defining that, and each of us learns from his
own experience with a woman who we are and what we like in life. But always
remember that you give your woman the part of you that belongs to her, and the
rest of you belong to you and nobody else.”
Hakim appreciates his uncle’s comments and doesn’t hesitate to let him know.
“I know, my uncle, I appreciate your advice on everything. Your opinion is
always most important to me. That’ll never change, I promise.”
“Thank you, my dear son.”
Before they part Hakim learns he has to be at the hotel the next morning at
about seven, as their flight is at 10:15 a.m. and they have to be at the airport two
hours earlier.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

Arrows

Excerpt

Sweat broke out on my nape and forehead. The woman watched
me closely, giving me the annoying feeling that she could read my
thoughts. Perhaps she was a witch.
When a gourd filled with a milky beverage of uncertain origin
arrived under my nose, I began to miss my countrymen. Tamanoa
held it while the rest awaited my reaction. The children giggled and
I smiled, raising one eyebrow at them. I took the gourd out of
Tamanoa’s grasp, noticing the quizzical expression in his eyes.
“It’s chicha,” he informed me.
I sat down on the ground and crossed my legs, minding the
Seraphic Rosary so that it rested on the cloth of my cassock stretched
between my knees. I raised my eyes to heaven, as much to bless the
chicha as to ask for help. Well, Salvador, if you want the dog, you’ll
have to accept the fleas, I told myself, and took a gulp.
It wasn’t completely unpalatable. Had I known that its
fermentation was aided by the spittle of the women who concocted
it, I might have been less inclined to drink it. I passed it along,
fighting the urge to retch, eyes watering. Mater Dei, please tell me
that gourd never covered anyone’s genitals, I prayed.
The sight of another male with his foreskin neatly strangled with
a cord that went about his hips, his balls—wrinkled and
saggy—hanging like a cockerel’s wattles, made me regurgitate the
devil-sent chicha. I kept swallowing it back until, able to escape
unnoticed, I hid behind a tree and vomited my guts out.

We neared Nueva Segovia de Barquisimeto, a city founded in 1552,
along a murky river the Caquetíos Indians had called Variquesemeto
long before the Spaniards began renaming everything.
Diego de Losada led the way on his magnificent black
Andalusian horse, which seemed to share its master’s dreams of
greatness. All horses except my Babieca were proud, elegant beasts
with thick necks, strong chests and powerful, arched croups. Bred
from the first horses to arrive from La Española,

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Marginal

Bluejay
You look at the blue jay with
admiration as he pokes the hazelnut
with his strong beak
and cracks it open
you wish you could hop from the branch
to branch and poke at hard
hazelnuts like he does
you wished you could mimic his song
when he calls his mate
which jumps on the dry tree limb
and before the branch breaks
it flies away undisturbed
you wouldn’t mind changing
places with the blue jay
to let him come into your house
and dust the furniture
to let him clean up the dirty dishes
and after showering let him place
a fluffy white towel on his head
to cover its colourful crest
you wouldn’t mind if it mimicked you
standing before the mirror
and when it discovered
that it gained some weight
to run back to its habit
of eating just hazelnuts

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771715987

Red in Black

Dawn

when the sky sang
newborn chick
just out of the uterus
of the ineffable
when you opened your eyes
and smiled
that for hours I was gazing your face
which shone in the sunlight
and you said
so beautiful
when you look at me that way
and this was the answer
and the question
when I surrendered
to the gleam of your eyes

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771713208

Constantine Cavafy – Poems

Interruption


We interrupt the labor of the gods,
we, the rushed and inexperienced beings of the moment.
In the palaces of Eleusis and Phthia
Demeter and Thetis begin good works
amid great fires and thick smoke. But
Metaneira always charges from the quarters
of the king, terrified, her hair undone,
and the fearful Peleus always interferes.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1723961833

He Rode Tall

Excerpt

Doc Gillespie
Great Falls, Montana


It had been two very long days since Joel had been thrown from
the big buckskin gelding and his ankle wasn’t feeling any
better. Maybe it was getting worse. He had spent most of yesterday
hopelessly hobbling around the house. Not being able to ride
was driving him nuts. Or maybe he was nuts already and not
being able to ride was making him nuttier. It was now ridiculous
and even impossible to think that he could ride. Harry had eventually
come to the house at noon yesterday to make sure that Joel
was okay. Hobbling over to the screen door, Joel explained the
events of his wild ride on the buckskin to Harry. Without as
much as one word of a reply, the old man simply shook his head
and made his way back to the barn.
For Joel, it was a good thing that it was his left ankle that was
injured; at least he could still use his right foot on the gas pedal.
And that is what he was doing this morning. Joel was approaching
the outskirts of Great Falls in search of some medical attention
that could hopefully accelerate the healing process. The
severe pain was nearly killing him and he had to get out of the
house before he started drinking.
The sign above the medical clinic in the strip mall on the outskirts
of town proclaimed, “Dr. Michael Gillespie. Walk-ins Welcome.”
The receptionist was unlocking and opening the front
door of the clinic as he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.
Hobbling into the clinic, he approached the front desk and asked
to see the doctor.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897955

Orange

Sin
Brazen thief
that leads my mind
to an erotic voyage and
your nipple
ready to jump
over your bra and
standing with no skirt
before the mirror
you accentuate your eyes
upright virgin thought
my paradisiacal inferno
that I long to sing
with such fervour

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763750

Missa Bestialis

And Once More About Love
Of the sun’s blinking
this summer night
when chilling shadows entwine together
over Hargita the sky spreads out
in quietness to make love in
a mellow myth
the stars, insomniacs thatblink
like tiny animals
my fingers gallop
on your pulsing neck
I avoid your fragile bones
and linger at the camp
of your innocence
in your closed eyelids
dreams squeeze
kiss my sad face
to heal
this body that
clings to yours
this hand that
draws you
this is not me –
keep on dreaming about me!