Twelve Narratives of the Gypsy

since their home sends them
away and the roads don’t
even desire them because
the Goddess Freedom, that rules
over everyone and makes grace
out of evil, deserted them and
they can’t live in foul air nor
in the country nor in the city.
Bastards, liars, thieves and
seducers whose evil has no
fire nor air, nor stature
as if they were Christians,
Turks, godless who live here
and there and they’re tossed
around, travelling gypsies or
domesticated.
Behold the gypsies, last remnants
of a dead nobility, different
than the raggedly dressed crowd,
with faces glowing in the sunlight
sharp like sharpened blades and
from their unbending bodies
by chance glances, stirrings
still know how to order
still know how to guide.

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

Wheat Ears

Craving
Moment by moment the craving
intensified during the night
it grew in silent moans
roots like a tree it spread
eavesdropping just outside
our bedroom and I lay
next to you analyzing your
right nipple, wondering whether
to feel it or let it relax in
its poetic effusion, soft
breeze from the open window
brings sweet memories
of a shore and
you said —
how nice if we could swim
in our secluded little cove

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BKHW4B4S

The Unquiet Land

excerpt

“He’s a kind, good-natured, generous big cratur,” she said. “He’s hard working and dependable and he’s straight as a die. He’d make a good husband. I’m sure of that.”
“And yet you hesitate,” said Padraig. “Is there someone else?”
“No one who’d have me,” Caitlin replied modestly. She smiled—ruefully, Padraig thought—and placed her free hand on his. “I’m glad you’ve come back to us, Padraig.”
“I doubt if everyone in the village will be saying that.” Foreboding flickered in the priest’s eyes. “Many, I am sure, are not too happy to have me, above all people, back among them as their priest.”
“Your task won’t be an easy one, Padraig, I’ll grant you that. But you have that streak of MacLir defiance in you that is our family’s greatest protection against malice.”
“And how is Finn MacLir these days?”
“As much of an old rogue as ever. He gets even worse with age, if that’s possible.”
“I am looking forward to seeing him again,” Padraig said, but with a tinge of apprehension in his voice. Slowly he released Caitlin’s hand. “And Mother Ross? How is she?”
“Hail and hearty. Same old Mother Ross.” Caitlin gazed intently at the pale face of the priest, at his long, thin body. Mother Ross always said that her greatest disappointment in life was failing to put an ounce of flesh on Padraig’s spindly rack of bones.
“And Nora?”
“Doting wife and mother. She and Flynn are very happy in their wee house. Little Dermot is the spitting image of his father. Curly reddish hair and all.”
“How old is Dermot now?”
“Two and a bit.”
Padraig paused, then pensively he said. “How time flies. And yet it seems like no time at all since I went away. Caitlin, I have been looking forward so much to seeing all of you again. Looking forward to coming home. Looking forward to being in the village again. I want to gaze at the hills and the sea, to walk the beach again at midnight. I have been so long away. I have missed you all so much. Missed you more than I can say. It is good to be home again, Caitlin. But it is not going to be easy.”
Padraig stood up. Then he leaned forward, kissed the woman on the forehead, and picking up the lamp, quietly left the room.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203

Red in Black

Courtain
Our curtain flutters
game of the breeze, Eros
archaic tendency
before all others
and since they all occur
one after the one
rebellious breeze with its talk,
curtain in its erotic pose,
like your body
I got up to make coffee
and instead of a good morning
I whisper in your ear
I love you

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

Life is a Poem

NATURAL, MAYBE
I can no longer distinguish your voice,
I don’t even remember your long hair
that hour was unfortunate, perhaps
natural in unfulfillment.
The evening doesn’t bring us together anymore,
bitter Wednesday is in the deep,
Monday brings you, I come on Friday,
Thursday’s bridges collapsed.
Blue is heavy, snowfall is long,
under the brush of the icon painter –
angels come to chase me away
into the clay of the pot wheel.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C7KT7ZFV

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

excerpt

Perils of the Sea
As if the wind heeded Finten’s prayer for a quick return to Ireland, a stiff breeze
blew the tiny craft steadily southeast, along the coast of Mull. By noon, they were
in sight of Colonsay but the wind died before they came close to Islay. Now they’d
definitely not reach Kintyre before dark when the North Channel currents would be
most treacherous.
Rordan felt miserable that Finten had chosen to sit next to him as if to make sure
he said his prayers aloud with the other Brothers. Why can’t we just pray silently
on our own. I’m not up to all this chatter when we’re cramped together like this. In
chapel it’s different, I don’t have someone breathing down my neck. He tried shifting
away from the priest but Father Finten just seemed to lean in closer.
As evening approached, a chill wind whipped up waves and enclosed the craft in
clinging fog. The monks bobbed around until they lost all sense of direction. For a
few brief moments, the moon appeared through the mist and, by her position, the
seamen knew they were heading north instead of south.
Keallach exclaimed, “My God, we’re sailing in the wrong direction.” He pulled in
the sail while Laoghaire manoeuvred the side rudder to bring the currach around.
The turn took all of fifteen minutes, an eternity in the choppy sea.
The moon hid behind a black cloud as the sky darkened. Chilly sleet drifted over
the huddled crew and icy rivulets seeped down their necks. Finten crawled between
furs, shivering violently, praying his Pater Nosters and Ave Marias. Brother Ailan slid
a cover loosely over his cauldron. He had just gathered the uneaten supper from
wooden plates to be saved for a later meal and had secured the supplies in leather
bags against the mounting storm. The currach began to be walloped by waves, as she
moved up one side and down the other of each mounting swell.
The dizzying lift and drop made Finten nauseous. Soggy bread that had slipped
from its package swished about in the seawater among smelly slices of semi-preserved
whale meat and kippers. All that and the stench of the dying hermit priest
were more than Finten could stand. He grabbed the wooden bucket knowing he
was about to throw up before he could reach the side. “Out of my way.” He knocked
Rordan from his seat as he leaped up dropping the bucket. “Lord, Lord of the Seas.
Ohhh! My churning gut.”
Father Finten stumbled to the leeward and heaved his stomach contents to the
sea. Swiftly, Brother Ailan moved and grabbed his priest to save him from being
washed overboard. He led him gently back to his seat amidst the furs next to Brother
Rordan who turned his head away to avoid the sickly smell of the priest’s breath.
“Brother Rordan, for the love of Jésu, what have you in your bag to soothe this
wretched sickness?” Finten groaned.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763106

Kariotakis-Polydouri, The Tragic Love Story

How Can I Say It to You
How can I say it to you? I want you fresh as buds and braves
now that my heart expands
calm and serene, with no shadows, diaphanous and clear
calling inside it your beautiful reflections.
Heartwarming joy when each of you lean your heads
unsuspecting towards my heart, when
you’re flooded by fairies and their ephemeral beauty
with the secret peaceful light of my dream.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763459

Medusa

Return
We came back with a key
for the door of sorrow
under the lone streetlight
eager we were
to open the gates of hope.
There on the sidewalk
of the desolate neighbourhood
until tears flooded our eyes
at the loneliness of the pole and
we stopped wandering around
and promised to lay roots
in the soil, even if it meant
to gaze at the moon through
iron window of the prison cell
and perhaps that would secure us
a place among the heroes we so
much admired when in school

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763769

He Rode Tall

excerpt

Cindy
The Circle H Ranch
Willow Springs, Montana
It was late by the time Joel and Tanya returned home and
unloaded the horses. Once the excitement of the weekend had
started to subside, Joel had become tired and started to dangerously
drift off to sleep as he drove back to the ranch. To prevent
dozing off, he broke the peace and quiet of the long drive by turning
on the radio. Joel and Tanya spent the rest of the way home
listening to country and western music and savoring the joy of
victory.
The next day got off to such a slow start that by the time 9:30
rolled around, Joel decided that it would be a good idea to take the
rest of the day off. Maybe it was the success of the weekend or
maybe it had something to do with the potent fragrance of the
sage wafting in the wind, but for whatever reason, a day off
seemed to make sense. Tanya was pleased to hear Joel declaring
an impromptu holiday. Harry was happy for their success and
also happy to enjoy the benefit of their victory by climbing into
his truck and heading wherever it was that Harry went on the few
occasions that he actually left the Circle H.
After unhooking the trailer from the truck and hosing it down,
Joel went back up to the house and with Tanya’s help the two of
them had a cleaning bee. And by 11:30, the place was looking
very clean. Tanya had always done a nice job of keeping her room
in the basement tidy, but there was no doubt that the upstairs
needed a good cleaning. When the house was finally looking…

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

George Seferis – Collected Poems

XVII
Astyanax
Now that you will leave, take along the boy,
the boy who saw the light under that plane tree
one day when the trumpets sounded and weapons shone
and the sweaty horses bent over the trough to touch
the green surface of the water with their wet nostrils.
The olive trees with the wrinkles of our parents
the rocks with the wisdom of our parents
and our brother’s blood warm on the soil
were a strong joy a rich attitude
for the souls who knew their prayers.
Now that you will leave, now that the day of payment
dawns, now that no one knows
who he will kill and how he will die
take with you the boy who saw the light
under the leaves of that plane tree
and teach him how to study the trees.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096TTS37J