He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

But Joel had a feeling that even that would be considered a
steal, and if he had agreed, those two would be in a bar before the
end of the day sucking back beer and chirping about how they
took the dude out at Circle H for a ride.
Since he had the briefcase open, Joel thought that now was as
good a time as any to take a closer look at the parentage of his
livestock. After separating out the remaining older mares, he lay
all of their registration papers from the American Quarter Horse
Association in front of him on the kitchen table. Although he
didn’t know it, he was looking at the living history of some of the
greatest breeding ever.
Just like the old mare that he had just sold, the other matriarch
of the remuda was also a daughter of the legendary Doc Bar out of
a Peppy San mare called Peppy Jane. Her own name was Doc’s
Peppy Jane, confirming the identity of the other older mare.
If that kind of breeding was so valuable in a twenty-one-year-old
mare then the daughters had to be equally valuable. Especially if
they were young enough to still be putting colts on the ground.
And as he scanned the papers, that is exactly what he saw. Absolutely
every one of the other ten mares in the remuda were daughters
of either of the original Doc Bar mares that his dad had
brought up from Denver. With only ten mares besides the other
own daughter of Doc Bar, Joel’s guess would be that his dad had
chosen to keep just the absolute best fillies to include in the
broodmare band.
After clearing the table of the registration papers for the
broodmares, he turned his attention to finding the papers for the
three-year-olds that he and Harry were currently training. After a
little more rummaging through the briefcase, Joel found the
papers for each of the dozen three-year-olds. The first one he
spotted was the filly out of the old blonde mare, and sure enough,
it was the pretty palomino he had just finished the morning with;
Joel had a feeling about the way she was handling herself. He had
convinced himself that when he had a chance to look at the
papers that he would discover that the last three-year-old …

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

Marginal

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Arrival


The late-arriving dawn forgets
its white undergarments between
the petals of the gardenia while
the first wavelet thrusts forward
a light froth as if to mark its territory
when the Kore’s lips shine their desire
for my kiss and I engrave footprints
in the sand of her dream
with my second sip of wine
a thought emanating from the flesh
directs me to the window and peaking
through half-pulled curtains, I observe
her invincible movements
her virginity laments its lost luster
and the glowing silver of the moon’s
face fades slowly in the Kore’s hour
after I closed my eyes being unable
to stare at divinity and its lust
swirling around her soft mound
while a disturbed dream hovers between
conscience and the rosy curtains
hanging on a rod across the lane
the forlornness-friendly sound
of a lyre caressing my earlobes
emerges from the silence of bed sheets
as her fingers dare touch
the middle petal of her orchid
for the first time another day
smiles as sunshine ricochets off
her aroused nipples, the jasmine’s
fragrance spreads over her tongue.

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

Nikos Engonopoulos – Poems

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Life and Death of the Poets


Sinope
is the name
the official name
of the Cloud-City
and City of Fires
which
is somewhere
in South America
this watery
and rather of Hellenic civilization
City
floats in the sky
like a baton
and the experts
place it,
sometimes in the middle
of a straight line
incised between Maracaibo
and Valparaiso
of Chile
other times
between Maracaibo
and Elbasan
there
as all the houses are made of fires
citizens live among the fires
they are constantly burned
and get reborn …

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

Αλήτις Τσαλαχούρη, Αδίστακτη

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Αλήτις Τσαλαχούρη, Αδίστακτη 

The Circle

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Excerpt

Hakim starts getting jittery and shows signs of being ready to go, although
Talal doesn’t seem to pay attention to the signals. Jennifer wants to go with
Hakim to his apartment and stay overnight and Emily wishes Jennifer and
Hakim would go, without Talal, so she might take him upstairs to her bed and
show him what it means to be sexually hungry. Yet, they all sit around and talk
for another half an hour, playing the game people call the waiting game as Emily
becomes interestingly aroused with each minute.
“I think it is time to go,” Hakim says, looking at Talal, who doesn’t seem to be
ready to comply.
“Mom, I’ll go with Hakim. I’ll get my things ready, okay?” Jennifer takes her
mom and Hakim by surprise.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, don’t you have to work tomorrow?” Emily
realizes her wish will become reality.
“Yeah, I do, but I’m going to get my things ready; I’ll go to work from
Hakim’s, no big deal. I’ll take your car.”
Talal relaxes with Emily knowing that after the two go he’ll really have the
time of his life. He imagines her breasts bouncing up and down as she rides her
hunger on top of him.
“I’m in on hurry, my friend,” Talal turns and says to Hakim. “I don’t have to
work tomorrow. The night is still young.Howabout another glass ofwine, Emily?”
Emily gives him the best smile ever and gets up and fills their glasses with wine.
She gives him the glass and he caresses her hand in a way only Emily notices.Hakim
is wondering what’s going on and how far Talal is going to take this.
Jennifer comes downstairs and the two are ready to go. They say goodnight,
and walk through the basement to the family garage. They take Emily’s car and
drive away.
Talal moves closer to Emily and takes her hands in his, her hands tremble.
She knows what comes next, although she likes to be taken by the hand and that’s
exactly what Talal does. They walk slowly up the stairs kissing and caressing.
Her bed welcomes them with open arms, as their sexual pleasure heats up
slowly but steadily, Emily is happy once more on top of him, her breasts
bouncing. He lets her enjoy the climax of her orgasm as he feels the sensuality
taking him over as well. Emily is loud in her moaning, breathing fast, and having
very strong convulsions at the top of her satisfaction.
In the midst of their sexual climax, the phone rings.
Emily looks at the display screen: it’s Matthew. She wonders for a moment
whether to take the call or not. She looks at Talal, and he knows who is on the
phone by seeing her reaction. He nods at her to take the call. She lifts the receiver.
“Hello, Matt,” she says, her breathing still a bit excited.

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

Life is a Poem

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CONDITION
The room begins to grow like despair,
the air expands in my dream
the gray angels flee.
I’m alone.
Space can hardly breathe,
the crater of the moon rolls towards me,
the hairy paw of the earth holds me, –
forgive me, mother
forgive me, sweetie
the terrified hair screams
the mouth groans crushed with fear,
the carious space is forced to laugh.
It’s a nightmare, I say
the whim of the night in mourning and weeping,
the grimace of the weather frowning
in children with asthenia –
the air is whimsical, it’s late
the dream tormented by fatigue
jumps to his lame feet.
I can hear my breath,
I hear spitting glances everywhere
and here is the leap
and the fall,
and the noise,
everything crashes
into the gap between me and something else.
And there is no sleep
and there is no flesh,
I’m just air
and I’m still a nightmare
which is not over yet.

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

Red in Black

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Sundown
Last reflection of the sun rays
on the leaves of the oleander
and onto the moist rock that stands
guard opposite the sea’s slow movement
life declares its benevolence
transcending Earth with its songs
before the night conquers
the cracks of hours
and the door shuts till morning
stay up, I’ll tell you
taste the bloom of your emotions
eternal moments
that only last a short while

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

Still Waters

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Excerpt

be the reason for Curly’s depression? Both Tyne and Moe had been
happy about the blossoming friendship between their roommate
and the medical intern. Curly had made no secret of her infatuation
with him.
“You’re not insensitive, Tyne. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just
don’t want to talk about him.”
“I understand. Of course you don’t.” Then she added with an attempt
at jocularity, “Men! They aren’t worth talking about, anyway.”
Curly did not reply and they walked on in silence until Tyne looked
at her watch. “Hey, it’s almost seven o’clock. What say we run down
to the dairy and get an ice cream cone? My treat. Then, I’d better try
to catch forty winks before duty calls.”
Curly looked up and smiled. They linked arms and started down
the street in the fading September light. 
Two days later, Tyne returned to the residence at eight o’clock in
the morning to find Carol Ann just getting out of bed.
“Hey, Curly, it’s your day off. What’s your hurry? Are you going
home for the day?”
Curly shook her head as she tied the belt of her housecoat. “No,
I have a few things to do downtown. Mom and Dad are away, and I
don’t want to go home to an empty house.” She picked up her towel
and headed down the hall to the washroom.
Later as Tyne crawled into bed, Curly, dressed in a tartan skirt
and yellow pullover, went out to the cupboard in the corridor and
returned with her coat over her arm.
“See you later, Tyne. Don’t know what time I’ll be back, but I won’t
wake you when I come in.”
“I know you won’t, not intentionally, anyway. But don’t worry
about it; I’ve been sleeping better this last week.”
“Bye then, pleasant dreams.” She hurried out the door, closing it
softly behind her.
Tyne frowned as she settled under the covers. Curly appeared extra
cheerful this morning. But something was not quite as it seemed.
Tyne could not put a finger on it, but something felt wrong. She
wished she had offered to go downtown with her friend. She could
have slept later, through the supper hour if necessary. But it was too

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068

Savages and Beasts

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Excerpt

Three months went by. July came with mischievousness and playfulness
from the hot afternoons that kept the city boys running
behind the ice cream truck to the stuffy nights that kept most
Kamloops residents awake and sweaty. And it was a stuffy place,
Kamloops, when the winds rejected every request for a blow
and the clouds refused to appear from the west where they came
most of the times; it was a stuffy place, Kamloops, with the nuns
and the priests waging their war against the savages while they
tried to teach them what they thought was necessary and useful
to them, alas they didn’t know that when you try to wash off the
black of a man trying to turn him into a white you only waste
your soap.
This was a celebratory Kamloops morning with the sun
half way up the invisible staff of nature’s flag when Anton imagined
it rising in tune with the joyous anthem of nature and all
the earth creatures stood in attention, from the tiny ants which
raised their antennae to the orcas in the pacific which raised their
dorsal fins straight up in the air as if slicing it in two pieces, from
the immense wings of the condors spread in salutation, to the
tiny wings of the hummingbirds balancing themselves in midair
as they gazed at the marvel of a fuchsia, and from the raised
tusks of the elephants in glorification of the rising flag to the
salutation of the injured soldiers in the muddy hutments of war,
such glorious was this morning in Kamloops when Anton drove
his GMC pickup towards the Indian Residential School before
seven o’clock.
He passed the quiet Thompson murmuring indecipherable
secrets to the shrubs and verdure standing on its two banks,
certainly in attention too, and soon he was parked at the School
parking lot. His glance went through the gap the big oaks were

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

Ithaca Series, Poem # 726

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 Painting by Christine Brunnock

Traces

The storm has quieted down:
the grains of sand mingled

with the algae on the beach,
traces of the raging
of violence.

But elsewhere the raging does not stop:
houses are set ablaze
there lie no algae
there lie the dead
like bloody traces
of a murderous war.

ΙΧΝΟΙ

Η καταιγίδα ησύχασε

κόκκοι άμμου μπλέκονται

με τα φύκια στην ακροθαλασσιά

ίχνοι της σκληρής βίας.

Μα κάπου αλλού η βία δεν σταματά:

σπίτια καίγοναι

φύκια δεν υπάρχουν εκεί

μόνο κουφάρια σκοτωμένων

σημαδια του θανατοφόρου

πολέμου

 
Hope

It is winter:
the chilly wind has torn off
the last leaves from the trees
which before were protection
and accommodation for the birds.

They shiver in the cold
but still whistle
because they also hope
for better times.

ΕΛΠΙΔΑ

Χειμώνας

ο παγωμένος αέρας γυμνώνει

τα δέντρα απ’ τα τελευταία φύλλα

που προστάτευαν κι έκρυβαν τα πουλιά

Τα δέντρα τρέμουν στην παγωνιά

μ’ ακόμα τραγουδούν

προσμένοντας

τις καλύτερες μέρες

Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//Translated by Manolis Aligizakis

Germain Droogenbroodt
Translation Germain Droogenbroodt – Stanley Barkan