Unfulfilled

The Driver’s Tale
Once upon a rainy day
A lady got into the cab
Smoothened her dress, gave an address
„Take me right there” – so she said
As I drove, the clouds were clearing
With courage, I dared to ask:
„What is such a lovely lady
Doing in this area?”
She looked nervous, but she answered
„I will see the love of my life”
Turns out that her man didn’t see her
For thousands of the days and nights
By the time we reached the destination
There were only a few clouds left
To my surprise – though not frustration
The decent lady suddenly said
„It’s possible that I’ll be back soon,
Would you mind stickin’ around?”
„Not at all, not this afternoon
Just make sure you’re safe and sound”
She left the car, her hands were shaking
And I guess, so were her legs
To watch her was a bit heartbreaking
In that long and elegant dress
She rang the doorbell – only once
And someone has opened the door
My view was not very nuanced
I only saw that he was tall
There was a heavy millisecond
That was when the air has melt
He hugged her, and said „please, do come in”
Love was around, or so it felt
I drove off into the sunset
No more clouds, there was no rain
I could have parked there ’til forever
It would all have been „in vain”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763645

Poodie James

excerpt

“Sam, you’re smart enough. You wouldn’t work if your life
depended on it. You been a proper stiff all your miserable life?”
“Only since I was old enough to leave home fifty years ago.
‘Bout you?”
“Oh,” Engine Fred said as he uncapped one of the pints, “I had a
job, a wife, kids, a house, dogs, even a car. They had me, really. I
left all that behind. I had to get out from under.”
“Think you’ll ever go back to it?’
“If I did, it wouldn’t be there.”
Poodie watched, intent on the conversation, marveling that
these men rode freight trains, lived in the open, begged for food,
did odd jobs, wanted no home, and he had found a home. Engine
Fred offered him whiskey out of his tin cup.
“Just a sip, see how you like it.”
Engine Fred and Old Sam laughed at Poodie’s grimace and the
tears in his eyes.
“You’ll get used to it,” Old Sam said, peering at Poodie’s face.
Poodie shook his head and made low sounds. He got out his pad
and pencil, wrote, tore off the sheet and handed it to the old man.
Old Sam studied it, shrugged and passed the note to Engine Fred.
“What’s it say, Engine?”
“It says, ‘No more of that.’ See, Sam, I told you he was smart.”
Two nights later, Poodie made his way up to the jungle carrying a
bag of apples. As he came around the big boulder at the path’s final
turn, he saw Old Sam cowering near the bonfire, trying to shield
his head from the blows of a big man in black clothing wielding a
club, a cloth tied over his nose and mouth, his hat pulled low. Sam
twisted, arched his back, tried to tuck his chin into his chest. The
man kicked at Sam’s groin and aimed the club at his ribs, chest and
face. Poodie dropped the apples and stood frozen. The man suspended
his club in mid-strike and looked at Poodie. All that
Poodie could see of his face was eyes reflecting the firelight. The
attacker started toward him, then turned and ran toward the tracks.
Poodie rushed to Sam. The old man’s neck was bloody.

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

Ερίνα Χαραλάμπους

Impulses

Newspapers
Papers sell worthy events
the kiss prince charming gave
princess wild
fold your heroes in pages
wrinkled and part ripped
packaged kilo of red mullets
secretly they rise your heroes
moistened by fish gills and scales
they ascend declaring to the kitchen
and to olive oil smoking in the pan
their innocence of youth
erased dreams and ambitions

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073565

Wheat Ears

Colors
City smog diaphanous blue
gasps like a gazelle’s neck
tightly held in the lion’s jaws
and her mound’s thin hair
as soft as breeze
amid my fingers
touching, feeling smoothness
lustrous purple dusk
divided in two equal parts
immense in our internal mirror
on her hand a bit of yellow
and a rose, fiery red
for her bloodied path
to the faraway land where
the stern knee of the Kore
transforms
the beauty of earth into
an amphora of limpidity

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

Jazz with Ella

excerpt

said Chopyk with only a hint of irony. He stroked his beard and stared at her with curiosity in his eyes. “I understand from Maria that you have a class scheduled for this morning.”
“Yes,” replied Jennifer tersely. Don’t explain, don’t apologize. Last night is none of his business. “I want to hear the students’ experiences in Leningrad. I have my own to share, too.”
“But I also know that you have been cancelling classes while in Leningrad….”
“As we discussed that first night,” she broke in quickly, starting across the lobby.
“Yes, agreed…but….” Chopyk followed, taking small, deliberate steps beside her. She matched his fussy gait. What is this nonsense all about? Surely he isn’t going to punish me?
“Since I have been carrying on with classes while in Leningrad for any who care to study,” he sniffed, “I think it only right that you should lead both groups, juniors and seniors, while on the Volga cruise.”
So that was it. Once again, he had hit her at her most guilty moment. He wanted to lounge on the sundeck reading his academic papers and not have to deal with a pack of rowdy students.
“Certainly. I’d be happy to do that,” she answered. “I know how one’s research suffers when class prep is a priority,” she added archly. He appeared not to notice her tone of voice. They entered the dining room in silence.

That morning she ended her class by presenting a poem that Volodya had written out for her: an excerpt from “Spring in Leningrad” by the Russian war poet, Margarita Aliger. Jennifer told the students the story of the Leningrad mother who had suffered during the siege and how her son, Volodya, had been moved by this poem. Despite her own sense of loss, Hank’s bad mood and Ted’s hangover, the students rallied and they recited it in Russian, then took a stab at translating it.
“O city without light, without water!
One hundred and twenty five grams of blockade rationed bread…
Savage rumbling of trouble
from the pitiless, dead sky.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Troglodytes

VI
Almighty blonde Acheron
like an archaic tautology,
the gateway to the Underworld,
with all its strength and length,
commands all other rivers
to stop painting their life
on earth and below.
Dry riverbeds bemoan
as water hardly trickles
like a slow drip ceasing slowly
as the dreams halt midway.
Silence substitutes the
memory of sunlit dusks
arduous solitude reigns over
the orphan dream of the seed
which never sprouts.
Stillness, anger, inertia
and the commencing Death.
Only Death smiles and
enters with grandiose fanfare.

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

Hours of the Stars

Hercules
Irascible beast
born executioner to face Poseidon’s spread evil
that sprouts into the sea
for memoirs will be written only
on the edge of the sword
that cracks the cheekbones of the night like walnuts.
Castles of the night will fall like trees
anatomy lesson on the body of the deed
poisoned by his own hand
his final chiton
he put on
like the lion of the desert puts on its bandolier

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763408

Water in the Wilderness

excerpt

She sat down on the sofa and stretched her legs out in front of her. Actually, it did feel good to rest. She had been a little tired and weary in the last few weeks, but she knew it was only because her body was going through hormonal changes. Dr. Rosthern had pronounced her perfectly healthy.
Stifling a yawn, she glanced at her husband. “What did your mom say when you told her we won’t be with them for Christmas dinner? Was she very disappointed?”
Morley looked up. “She said she understands, and she figured we’d be going to your folks this year. And Mom and Dad won’t be alone all day. Aunt Peg and her two daughters will be there for dinner.”
“And we’ll go over in the evening after you’ve done the milking?”
“Of course we will, hon. I told Mom that, and she’s okay with it.”
Tyne yawned again, then getting to her feet, she went to stand behind Morley and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “And you, my dear husband, will be taking me Christmas shopping in Medicine Hat tomorrow, won’t you?”
He tipped his head back to look at her. “Whatever happened to shopping from Eaton’s catalogue like my mom used to do?”
Tyne wrinkled her nose. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re past the middle of the twentieth century. Besides that, I love the excitement of Christmas shopping in the city, the store windows all decorated, and Santa ringing his bell beside the Salvation Army kettle on the sidewalk.”
His eyes were full of laughter. “I hope you’re not disappointed then. We’re going to Medicine Hat, not Calgary.”
“Same thing – you’ll see.” Tyne bent her head to kiss him lightly on the forehead. “Now I must get my beauty sleep if I’m going to be at my shopping best tomorrow. Don’t be long, dear. Let’s finish the tree tomorrow night.”
Morley smiled as his eyes followed her progress up the stairs.
The town of Medicine Hat almost lived up to Tyne’s expectations. The windows were decorated, carols were playing in the stores as well as on the sidewalks, and a fresh fall of snow during the night had left

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676319X

Ελάχιστα για τα ‘Λαϊκά Μανιφέστα’ του Λώρενς Φερλινγκέτι