‘Manolis, a prolific poet, possesses a distinctly Mediterranean flavour, as would a poet schooled on Cavafy or Elytis, aromatic, tangy, like freshness of an olive grove in the morning.’

– Richard Olafson

 

Poetry, Ekstasis Edition 2009
ISBN 978-1-897430-51-4
116 Pages
6 x 9
$19.95
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Praise

Nuances is a transformative and elegant book, featuring sure-handed lines and vivid images rendered with delicate clarity. Manolis, a prolific poet, possesses a distinctly Mediterranean flavour, as would a poet schooled on Cavafy or Elytis, aromatic, tangy, like freshness of an olive grove in the morning. Nuances revels in the vitality of the sensuous motion of language on a sea of thought. The poems move in a transparent and openhearted gesture, subtle images intersecting with revealing philosophical meanings and benevolent meditations on the human condition. They provide insight into the mysterious act of writing itself and, open to the moment of creation, Manolis discovers, within the foliage of one poem, the next poem.

~ Richard Olafson, poet, editor, publisher, Ekstasis Editions

‘In this collection of poems, Manolis provides a contemporary discourse on the sensory perceptions that fill the gap between presence and absence. His canvas, like a Chagall painting, is a blend of moods and well crafted images, reflecting the many nuances of life – nuances that rise above the threshold of primal emotive scenes to where he stands as a poet, observing, contemplating, and arguing for the celebration of love in all its manifestations and connections. His work must be credited for its sustained thoughtfulness, lyrical voice, and invitation to view life not as barren subject but as a complex dynamic that has its own extraordinary design and imago of truth.’

~Ilya Tourtidis, poet, Bright Bardo, Libros Libertad

 

NEUTRALITY

 

White neutrality of page

before words until

uncommitted void displays

a plan task ideal

or a dream

before your hand takes

the pen neutral white page

shows you the purity of touch

like when you feel the skin

of the virgin or the image

of snow on the mountaintop

suddenly you change your mind

no need to write anything

poem already speaks softly

 

FLIES

 

Flies take charge of the wound

decay creeps into his nostrils

sorceress curses you and in the corner a

blood-filled bucket and avenging bull

looking and wondering what he

committed what he accomplished when

he gored the matador’s chest with

his right horn, deep aspirating gash where

breeze collapses matador with

eloquent movements such

poetic eyes why the brassy band

cheers victory? Who’s? His?

The matador’s? Or a poet’s

composing a eulogy?

 

 

HILLS

 

Hills undulating euphoria

lungs like butterflies

extend and collapse as

country road fills with eyes

wondering at immense beauty

a song rippling air of the car

your favored Boccelli tune

and you touch my hand

as if to reaffirm your contention

being here this

forever moment

at this stretch of the road

while a grateful sunshine complements

your lips with diamonds