Thoughtful Behaviour
He counted the handshakes, his expressions, his words,
even during the night, when, alone, in his dark room,
he was taking care of his shoes, his clothes, moving
from his bed to the closet. And if, once, at midnight,
he got undressed and observed his nakedness
erotically in front of the mirror, this took place as if
he didn’t know that the voyeur was listening, from
the next room, from the vacant, empty room with
the nails in the walls, and was always watching him
through the invisible holes in the door and his own body.
Ontogenesis
Immortal darkness
of the underworld, oh, Kore
a supplicant I become
the sky to adorn
the cloud with my fear to define
momentous freedom of thought
I am the Great Spirit’s song
eternal warmth of life
I possess before I come down
to find refuge in your abode
after my days reach their end
accept me in your Sanctum Sanctorum
oh Kore, a simple minded fir I’ve been
for all the days and nights of my life
Disposition
And I tried to name the nameless
describe it to the beasts with images
of my kin and they laughed at my expense
so cheap was the guilt those days
that I bought a lot with my tears
and I devoted my energy to reach
the unreachable, dreamer that I was
trying to unclasp my innocence
from the talons of the void
the sweet voice of the poet yelled
from deep within my essence what
you save during the length of a lightning bolt
diaphanous it will remain forever
I stood speechless before the wise statue
and pondered on the meaning of little
whitewashed houses by the bay
and the metal cross of the little chapel
that crucified my inheritance
black stigmata and my disposition
With Eyes Closed
Beautiful as the wilderness
is tamed by pagodas
as the fourth eye weeps the nectar,
as on the artificial turf
the boy is dribbling between two lightning bolts
Here swallows guard the summer,
our fading, lean summer.
They zigzag tirelessly and
and as long as they are here, they don’t let
the molecules of summer disintegrate.
Reading cloud-books
the unflappable windmill,
grinding its letters into flour
that the bread may not be only earth and water,
but blue sky too.
Today I have no reason to flee,
yet I remember. Somewhere
there’s a hidden door, I’ll smoothen
the wall. I close my eyes,
to make it easier to find.
Manolis Aligizakis 