Lethargy
Upright they stand: trees and rocks
whims of faint air coming
almost unintentionally amid
leaves loosened to desirous move
sea wishing expansion
to the other side of the globe
where they built tall ships
sea’s message to them:
STOP sending men over here
we don’t need your civilized ways
wisdom of our fathers is enough
STOP coming with your
loaded guns
Secret Transportation
With difficulty, they carried the stretcher inside. They closed
the door. One of the woman’s shoes was left by the front step,
outside. On the road, the others waited for someone to open
the upstairs window, perhaps the servant with the wart
or the female nurse, who would pour out a glass of water
or throw away a glass vile or ask for that shoe. Nothing. Night
came. They turned the light on inside. The window was lit
a little. Then the wide shadow of a stooping back closed the
windows. The others, down below, left noiselessly through
the neighbourhood side streets.
Scarecrow
He knew our peculiar desire for suffering, He knew
we preferred the sighs of defeat and those left
by the birds in their morning flight, though our soft
eardrums were unable to capture the thunderbolt’s
rapture, we still wanted to lie next to the woman’s
breast, close enough to feel her pain, close enough
to taste the salinity of her skin and He, alone, encompassed
the earth seen by our irises His primal goal to transcend
our desires once and for all, while we still kneeled
before the scarecrow, jet-black eyes and straw hair
on his head that moved from side to side, myths upon
which we had based our existence.
Fecundity of Eros
To see life the way others see it
to believe that dust is always dust
not legions of meanings
dust filled with rustling and directions
the messenger, not the message
we arrived at the wrong shores
crossing an incomplete destiny
and poetry is the reflection
of the missing mass of dreams
fata morgana, erotic signal
up high, the invisible
makes the flower tremble
puts the chord on fire
of the eternal world that struggles
not knowing where to turn.
The endless unanswered letters
the path between the heart and light
hands around the end of sorrow
floating diaphaneity that suddenly vanishes
to reappear with
whatever ever holy
or sinful existed
a passing moment
sanctified passage
erases the people’s footprints
on the wind-battered earth.
As if it was the first day of Justice.
Silence
Silence — you see it, you hit it with
the nailed coffin with a dead man with his choking breath.
You crawl close to him during the nights
you ask questions yet his voice is lost for years.
He has forgotten to speak, and you only listen
to the creaking of the stars and ethereal domes.
You hear the rustle of all the secret sounds
that cover the rattling of the machine guns.
Silence. Mother, holy whore who has hidden the meaning
of the end in its uterus since the beginning.
I stare through the window: airplanes cut,
into pieces, angels upon the open skies.
Excerpt
What if you’re immortal?
You lived the true
life only once in your
healthy bodies under the sun
and in the wind of our
miserable motherland;
now you live under a
different sun and in another
wind and you’ll never
relive your lives oh, fairies.
Hearts and cities bloomed
and stooped
because of you,
adorers of Hellas before you
shadows and idols
yet Hellas remains intact
please don’t cry for her
and each person who’ll
become your slave and
alone or as a whole nation
stand against you, he’ll
perish with you.
Manolis Aligizakis 