Link
Undoubted link between
the national good and the death
of thousands in faraway lands
unavoidable suffering of many
for the well-being of the few
the general said
was the equilibrium
one had to always seek
our happiness interlinked
with the death of others
the general insisted
our joy and lives depended
on the suffering of others
the general said
that was a god given equilibrium

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

Excerpt

tables; there was absolute silence until the teachers gave them the
okay to go and pick their bowl of porridge, their daily breakfast.
Once the order was given, two at a time, like little soldiers, they
stepped to the counters, each took his bowl and a spoon and
walked back to their seat where they focused on their food.
Anton and Dylan took their coffees and a slice of toast
each and walked to their table when the maid, Ananya walked
in and with quick strides reached Father Nicolas and said something
to him as if whispering. Father Nicolas raised his hand
and called Sister Naomi, told her something then both Father
Nicolas and Ananya took their leave.
Dylan looked at Anton and signaled to him to stay put
while he walked to George the cook. He leaned over the small
divider between the kitchen and the eating area, talked to
George, then went back to his seat and kept having his coffee.
Sister Naomi walked around the tables holding her stick in her
hand and moving from side to side she meant business to these
kids who knew very well the feel of the stick on their flesh.
Time passed in absolute quietness. When all the porridge
was consumed and the children took their bowls back to kitchen
counters, Sister Naomi escorted them to their classes for their
first lesson. Dylan and Anton went to their job at the laundry.
“What you think happened?” Anton asked Dylan when
they were loading the washers with dirty clothes.
“I don’t know, but we’ll soon find out. George will let us
know.”
A few minutes later George came in and declared, “the
old skunk is dead.”
Dylan stopped loading the washer, “When? I knew he
wasn’t that well, but…”
“An hour ago.”

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

Ancient Tomb

The moon gleams with soft rays
over Mycenae, while the blow
of wild air bursts Agamemnon’s
tomb open, next to the spirit of
the almond tree jutting out like
Oreste’s mania swirling skyward
like a dancing serpent while
Electra’s dance depicts the end
of the Asphodel’s dream
in the Hellenic essence of my soul
rivulets still hold the sunshine
in their hands and the paradisiacal
lust of the first kiss dangles from
the lips of the Kore glorifying
innocence as the kyrie eleison travel
eastward to the Mediterranean Sea
say,
let’s dance and long for this year’s
newborns, for this year’s red eggs
a wavelet appears from the blue forest
with the light wave froth calling
and promising nostalgia
in the Hellenic essence of my soul
tomorrow isn’t yet and
splendorous yesterday dwells in the void
what else can one ask other than
the profound meaning
of the non-existent now?
Bravo, he says to me,
always follow the stars and read their minds
the end is never a goal, only the way
to its faraway shore that gleams
clear in your viscera

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

The Executioner
Grunts were heard from the dens, a mad person
was looking at me from the window, a bird was
sitting on the huge bulb of his eye, a bird he had
buried, as a child, in the edge of the garden;
the woman with the covered face was following
my way, that ugly, dump woman with whom
I slept once; after she died she often visited me
in fact I saw her once unfolding the small carpet
over where I kneeled so people would feel sorry
for me; it was when he took me in, the one with
the small garden at the far side of the back yard;
when we knocked the executioner opened,
“I’m innocent” he said, “this killed them; it’s not
my fault the others couldn’t hear it” and he pointed
at the flute on the table;
the dead cried and leaned on the fireplace, even
if others said it was the rain, my aunt started yelling
when they tried to take her childish drawing which
she still held in front of the Lord during the Last
Judgment Day,
while, as evening came, the passing musicians
played tirelessly at the street corner although
no sound was heard since their violins were already
faraway in the unrealized.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763564

Automobile
In the public road like the embrace
of a two pronged compass,
the wind’s fingers in the mane
and miles in the belly,
us two were leaving, hollow,
whiplash for the soft gaze;
the mind a makeup, the blood make up
naked, naked, naked!
…On the bed with a soft
high pillow
how dizziness slipped away
like a fish in the sea…
In the two pronged public road
we were leaving, just bodies,
but with our hearts on each branch
separate, one left, one right.

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

An Old Man
In the back of the noisy cafe
bent over a table, an old man sits;
with a newspaper in front of him, alone.
And in the miserable scorn of old age
he thinks of how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, and eloquence, and beauty.
He knows that he has grown old; he feels it, he sees it.
And yet the time when he was young seems
like yesterday. How short, how short a time.
And he contemplates how Discretion deceived him;
and how he always trusted it—how foolish—
the liar who said, “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”
He remembers urges he restrained; and all the joy
he sacrificed. Now for every lost chance
he scolds his foolish Discretion.
. . . But from all this thinking and remembering
the old man gets dizzy. And falls asleep
bent over the table in the café.

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