Monday, December 31, 2012

Όραση

Δε βράζουν μέσα σου τα σπλάχνα τ'αηδονιού, σπινθίρισμα με κρώξιμο λυπηρό
κι τα στήθια σου μια αναπνοή, το αγέρι προκαλούν σε σπινθιρομαχία
μια τα λυπηρά μου χέρια βυθίζονται στο οινοπνευμά σου και μεθώ και μια, 
του ξημερώματος τα ταχταρίσματα κάθομαι και στοχοποιώ
μπας κι απαντήσει, το τσίπουρο κι ας βράζει, με γεμίζει μυρωδιές του κάμπου

Ελεύθερος στον οδυρμό, σαν σιδερόβεργα λυγίζει ο αστήρ στα όρια του ματιού
μα πιο πολύ πονεί τούτη απ'την αληθινή, σαν στις τόσες που θα λάβεις
ακούς με πόνο τις απραγματοποίητες σου πια ορμές και βλέπεις την ζωή σου
και σαν νυχτώνει, η μάνα νύχτα στο πέπλο σου σφιχτά πως σε θωρεί
γιατι το ψάθάκι σου ξέρανε ο αστήρ και πως φριχτά κροάζει στην νυχτιά χωρίς χρυσό

Στενάχωρα μου θώπευσες τα ροδαλά της μάτια, τ'αστρός ξημέρωμα τι κι αν!
φοβάσαι τους διάττοντες αστέρες, ο δικός μας χρώμα χρυσαφί σε μπλε μοκέτα
αητό θυμίζει και την μέρα τους άλλους καβαλικεύει, μα νύχτα στεγνώνει
κι μια του καμπού τη σιγή ενθυμούμαι, τη διαμαντένια του ουρανού φωτιά
δεν είναι δαχτυλίδι, μα δέσμιος μαζί του στη λύπη μου κλεφτά θα ζω.

The Symmetry of Dionysus [Episode 2]

-->
I tried getting up but my feet didn’t do much to help, they felt like steel, rusty and hard, they were denying my will to live. After what seemed like hours, I finally found the strength to stand up and move. I had to move, I had to keep on surviving and see the light of day. I had to get out of this hellhole.

My room was a small room with just a bed and an empty table, no chairs and nothing that could be of use for me. I first tried going to the door and listening to what was behind it hoping that I would get an acoustic glimpse of what would surely be my abductors. But there was nothing, the resonance of solitude drowned the place keeping down any noise to a minimum. I turned the handle, slowly moving my body towards the exit, cautiously hovering my hurt limbs over the poorly constructed floor of this god-forsaken place. And it was then that I heard a whisper, tumbling down from the stairs that led to the upper level of this building. It consisted of nothing but static, lip-stutter if I must describe its symmetry.  I looked at my hands and saw cuts, cuts that had been made with something really sharp. I knew of them, my daughter had made such cuts to her own hands when she was a teenager. But she was now dead, the drugs got to her on an icy October day. She was found behind a dumpster, frozen to death with a needle forcefully injected in her neck. The authorities told me that it was a clear-cut case of overdose. But it was then that my daughter’s eyes told me the absolute truth. She looked at me with the only look that could fill a dead person’s eyes, the look of absolute horror. I couldn’t sleep for days; my room felt like I was inside her eyes, demons haunted me and kept me at bay. I lost my job and friends and I looked like a carcass that should have been eaten by predators a long time ago.

To be continued...

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

The Symmetry of Dionysus [Episode 1]


We walked down the road and we were just arriving at the old house near the street when she looked at me eerily. ‘’Things haven’t really going well for my family, you know, the stress, the lack of food-they really have taken a toll on us’’ she said.  I just stood there, looking at her with eyes sore like muscles after a good run, my soul in the gutter just waiting to be picked up by a random driver who’s giving odd souls like me hitchhikes. ‘’What can I do to help?’’ I tried to mutter but couldn’t. She looked at me, disappointed, and lowered her head. She looked as if she was let down, like I had put her head in dirty water and held her there with her hands tied behind her back waiting for her to stop struggling. The feeling of her asphyxiation hit me hard, the sounds of her soul crushing against my icy wall of apathy made sounds that made even the sanest men find madness at their doorstep.

I woke up anxiously; sweat dripping of my forehead, grasping my sheets as I tried to drown my fearful scream down my throat. I didn’t recognize the place I was and disoriented as I was, I tumbled down from my sweaty and messy bed. The heart-ached scene of what appeared to be a dream gave way to a dark and moist room, filled with scents of old times and a soaring, deleterious headache was kicking my head, keeping it down with the force of an army man with boots made out of steel. 

My windpipe felt like it was closed for ages now, filled with the nasty aromas that emanated from this awful place and this made me gag.

To be continued..