Vernal Equinox

The deep ground of Manolis’s poetry is an ancient music that is the source of all great poetry, and within the context of these poems the shades of Anacreon and Neruda are ever present.’

– Richard Olafson

vern

Poetry, Ekstasis Editions 2011
Paperback 9 x 6 in
116 pages
ISBN: 978-1-897430-69-9
$21.95
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Synopsis

In Vernal Equinox, his third volume of poetry from Ekstasis, the Greek emigre poet Manolis is at his most intimately eloquent and passionately exuberant. As with Ovid, as with Neruda, the quotidian and the ordinary is transcended by Eros. The poems in this volume are taut, lyrical and informed by a powerful and subtle music, infused by un-sentimental directness and sensual precision. Working within the domain of consciously reduced perceptions, Manolis pushes language to its outer edge, locating the sayable within the shifting tumult of the real. Moment to moment the poems move through the world, rooted in a dark radiance and a luminous energy, charged with sensuality and grace. In the deep ground of being, love is woven through all life, and amorous love is but the tip of a powerful emotion—at the heart’s core, remains the mysteries of erotic love to which we all owe our existence. Vernal Equinox is an honest and expansive expression, linked by passages from Lorca, but imbued by a singular voice that is both candid and instinctive.

 

SCANDALOUS

 

He stops shaving razor floating in air

hand absentmindedly creates a circle in mid-void

like a bird stilled by camera lens

her scandalous vulva visits his mind

from days of that August

on the scorched island

in low tone siesta

in muffled moaning

lest the mirror would crack from tension

in the cool soothing room

before his eyes

finger in circular motion of agony

swirling eroticism

higher and higher

near a shuddering apex

wind pandemonium

lust and a red colored

Lucifer laughs sardonically

as the razor touches his flesh

opening it

like hers

color reddish

 

LAMPPOST

 

After leaving our marks

on the sole lamppost

we parted

 

she to the west

I to the east

 

with a promise

to meet again

 

by this lamppost

and trace our marks

 

though we never thought of the Sirens

the Cyclops and the angry Poseidon

 

though we never thought of the pricey

ferryman

 

WHAT IF

 

If you didn’t get to the train station

 

at that exact time you wouldn’t

 

have met him you wouldn’t have

 

started dating you wouldn’t have

 

married you wouldn’t have

 

the twins graduating this year and

 

where would you be now

 

had you taken the next train?

 

 

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