OFFERING

Jean-Baptiste Greuze - Morning Prayer

One day, my love,
I will be tired
to sing for you.

Yes, my words will
hush forever
I won't hurt you.

You sing your songs
elsewhere, as I
see deep inside,

what was the lie 
about you from
all that I loved.

A conclusion
not deriving,
I feel different .

I smile though to
the invisible
thread that unites

our lives even
for moments, for 
the offered joy.

It was not that
you have loved me,
I'm still puzzled.

But just that is!
The inside greatness
I felt through you ...

NEVER TRUST THE POETS

Poetry is not feelings, and images and all that most poets usually write .
Reason for which Plato expelled them from his ideal Politeia.
Poetry means Geometry, means mathematics, means approach of the Kosmos (Kosmos=World from Kosmema=jewelry and the mathematical harmony which is holding it - the eternal beauty)of the phenomena and of human beings through geodesic domes (a geodesic dome is a triangulation of a Platonic solid or other polyhedron to produce a close approximation to a sphere (or hemisphere)). 
Remember that "Let no one who doesn't know geometry get in " out of the Academy of Plato (who was also a great poet).
In the sixth premise of his poem "Free Besieged", the national Greek Poet Solomos says:
"The meaning of the poem is a world mathematically graduated."
We, the poets, mentioned to me a friend, we are strange people and the worst objectively companions. Nobody should ever believe us completely. We usually write what we feel at the moment, we want at all costs to express that which pushes us internally, what we would like to live, the passion that devours our soul. So we can say or write the biggest lies, things which will remain wishful thinking, things that will never see the light of our reality, in the most persuasive and charming way. We are not what we write, but we would like to, we live for writing. We can not do anything else. We survive thanks to our tale, thanks to our dream. We are sinners Narcissi who are trying to communicate mirroring in the soul of our companion the love for our own soul and the fear of its loss.

ΜΗΝ ΕΜΠΙΣΤΕΥΕΣΑΙ ΤΟΥΣ ΠΟΙΗΤΕΣ

".............Η ποίηση δεν είναι μόνο τα συναισθήματα, και οι εικόνες και όλα αυτά που κάνουν οι περισσότεροι ποιητές.

Λόγος για τον οποίο τους εξόρισε ο Πλάτων από την ιδεώδη Πολιτεία του.

I HATE CANCER!

Blame my damn distinction for keeping me away from you. Many times I thought: What will happen if I come to meet you and you buy me a coffee? Anyone would dare. I missed you so much! You was a friend first and foremost, and your physical presence would reassure me, love in my eyes would reanimate your hope. As much as I need to see you, you would have too. I came several times outside your door, sat in the tavern opposite, in spying, lifted many times the phone to talk to you. I did not.
As you sickened , you started to change. This cursed cancer ate you as a whole. Rallied you came back to basics. Seeing your rapid decline, not controlling the effects of the exhausting treatment and the illness's progression, you were pitying yourself, but you did not want to be pitied.
But I love you. You would never be seen by me differently. I would never lose my hope for you. I longed for your soul and for gaining more time next to you, especially now that the threat of a future shortage was obvious and rapid.
You knew how much I suffered. Knew, but you did not want to share this awful pain, nor to be concerned with my distress about it, to be extorted from your hard champion's fight .
You had your own family to support them and to be supported, their anguish to face ahead, you lapped to win for them, with them to be hugged.
Furthermore it was you and yourself in battle. In a duel no third is shuffled , except the trustworthy witnesses.
On the other hand you dreamed about our own relationship in different conditions and now it seemed your plan was sinking, our ship hit a reef, so we should abandon the ship.
I 've been excluded, blocked. Violently. You did not have the luxury to think about it. Maybe that way your problem was moving away from me. Maybe that way I would be saved from your agony.
But I loved you and I still love you. The human soul is dissolved by such separations. It trivializes. Loses its purpose, its essence, its rationale. What's the point in having my love for you in my heart if I do not accompany you discreetly even from afar in your suffering?
What I experienced in your case I describe it in one word: hell. Yeah, so I set myself to hell. When being thirsty to drink I can not find where, when I want me to stand by you and I am chased away, when I want to take advantage of every second to contact and I must wait for an uncertain future, when I want to prove my feelings and I'm rejected.
And this Hell is still continuing, I remain with the phone in my hand without calling you, because this damn distinction of mine keep whispering in my ear that you have any right to remain silent; you have any right to keep me away...

ΑΝ ΕΓΩ ΕΙΜΑΙ ΕΔΩ / SE SONO QUI BY ANTONIO BLUNDA VIDEOPOEM-TRANSLATION- RECITED BY CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

SE SONO QUI


Se io son qui
quando la Tua sera
è un'isola di stanchezza

se son qui
e nient'altro vince
contro tutto il dolore
che Tu ed io


se io son qui
e se non posso fermarmi
sarà che il mio cuore è acceso
e non è un calcolo freddo


Questa sera è di stanchezza
ed io son qui per Te
con cento ragioni dell' universo

E non sono altro
che la Tua piccola sosta
sorridente
nei campi delle lanterne
(A Dio)
copyright 2012 Antonio Blunda


AN EIMAI ΕΔΩ

Αν εγώ είμαι εδώ
τότε που η νυχτιά Σου
είναι νήσος για το μόχθο

Αν βρεθώ εδώ
και δεν θα νικήσει άλλος κανείς
κόντρα σ' όποια οδύνη
παρεκτός Εσύ κι εγώ


Αν εγώ είμαι εδώ
κι αν αδυνατώ να σταματήσω
θα'ναι απ' την καρδιά μου μέσα
και όχι από ψυχρό υπολογισμό


Τούτη τη νυχτιά του μόχθου
είμαι εδώ μαζί Σου
για εκατό λόγους στο Σύμπαν


Και δεν είμαι άλλο
πέρα απ' τη  μικρή ανάπαυλά Σου
για χαμόγελο
κάτω από τις ουράνιες απλωσιές των καντηλιών Σου.

( Στο Θεό)

ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ: ΧΡΥΣΑ ΒΕΛΗΣΣΑΡΙΟΥ

IF I AM HERE

If I am here
when Your evening
is an island of tiredness

if i am here
and nothing else wins
against all the pain
like You and I

if I am here
and if I can not stop myself
it will be that my heart is turned on
and it's not a cold calculation

This evening is of tiredness
and I am here for You
with a hundred reasons of the universe

And i'm nothing else other
that Your short break
smiling
in the fields of lanterns

(to God)

Translation: Antonio Blunta

TOGETHER

Do not belittle
your sweet body
that unites us.

I am with you
now from loving
and not for love.

Ach, those kisses
that I gave you
were sealing us.

But you felt as
if I want them
because of lust.

We fell in love
You craved for me
so we are one.

Eros became
the fitting key
for the approach.

I don't regret 
the paradise
I found on earth.

Begotten joy
sterile the grief
and removal.

My victory
here I'm with you
Above passion.

I won't seek you
you're inside me
resurrected.

Making Herstory By Cindi Silva / Δημιουργώντας την ιστορία της...Της CINDI SILVA

They say every story
Has a beginning

a middle
and an end

Her story
The beginning . . .

She started out from a typical 2 parent middle class
Blue collar background
Her mom worked inside the home
Struggle, strife but never lacking anything

The middle . . .

She was living the American dream
A beautiful house, 2 cars, 2 beautiful children, a high paying job
And never lacking anything

Until one day it all changed and she experienced loss
First with her health; a diagnosis of cancer;
Loss of relationships - some people can’t deal with cancer; and even loss of her marriage;

Then there was the material loss that came with the other loss and an unforgiving ex;
The loss of the beautiful house; her 401k she was forced to live on while the divorce stretched out for four years (at the time of this prose); the loss of her car (she had always had a car since
she bought her first car in high school)

She realized that loss brought her insight and awareness;

and she started writing again; because she had a message to send;
she wasn’t bitter from the loss; at first she was disappointed; but she got over it; and a good friend told her she should write a book; which she did; and then poetry started pouring from her heart and soul;

loss brought her a gift gain; she was actually a more prolific writer than ever before; loss brought her so much to write about.

Her goal to raise awareness ; and unite us; to let everyone know they were interconnected and never alone; because no one should ever feel alone; and there was so much more to write about.

She liked to remind everyone that there is so much beauty in the world to be enjoyed each and every day
No matter what else was going on in their lives; she knew this to be true

The end . . .

The end will come with her last breath until then there will be endless possibilities and like every good story no one knows where the story will go next;

Until each page is written by you in your own story and each new page brings more possibilities to live life fully, joyfully, and mindfully.

this is her story . . . my story . . .

succinctly . . .

Have fun! Live a life filled with kindness,hope and joy;
This is it, this is life!

ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ ΑΠΟ ΧΡΥΣΑ ΒΕΛΗΣΣΑΡΙΟΥ

Λένε ότι κάθε ιστορία

έχει μια αρχή,
μια μέση,
και ένα τέλος.

Η ιστορία της
Η αρχή. . .

Προήλθε από μια τυπική οικογένεια μεσαίας τάξης.
Βιοπαλαιστές.
Η μητέρα της ήταν νοικοκυρά στο σπίτι της.
Αγώνας, συγκρούσεις, αλλά ποτέ δεν της έλειψε τίποτε.

Η μέση. . .

Ζούσε το Αμερικάνικο όνειρο.
Ένα όμορφο σπίτι, δυο αυτοκίνητα, δυο όμορφα παιδιά, καλά αμειβόμενη εργασία.
Και ποτέ δεν της έλειψε τίποτε.

Ώσπου μια μέρα όλα άλλαξαν και βίωσε την απώλεια.
Πρώτον της υγείας της. Διάγνωση καρκίνου.
Απώλεια κοινωνικών σχέσεων - μερικοί άνθρωποι δεν μπορούν να αντιμετωπίσουν ούτε ως ιδέα τον καρκίνο. Και ακόμη απώλεια του γάμου της.

Μετά ήρθαν οι υλικές απώλειες που συνόδευαν τις άλλες απώλειες και έναν ανελέητο πρώην.
Η απώλεια του όμορφου σπιτιού της, οι οικονομικές απώλειες, αφού αναγκάστηκε να ζήσει εξαργυρώνοντας το συνταξιοδοτικό της ασφαλιστήριο για τέσσερα χρόνια μετά το διαζύγιο (τον καιρό που γραφόταν το βιβλίο όπου αναφέρεται αυτό το κείμενο), η απώλεια του αυτοκινήτου της (είχε πάντα ένα αυτοκίνητο από τότε που αγόρασε το πρώτο της στο γυμνάσιο).

Συνειδητοποίησε ότι η απώλεια της πρόσφερε διορατικότητα και ευαισθητοποίηση.

και άρχισε να γράφει και πάλι' γιατί είχε ένα μήνυμα να στείλει'
δεν ήταν πικρό από την απώλεια' αρχικά ήταν απογοητευμένη' αλλά πήρε σύντομα τα πάνω της' και ένας καλός φίλος της είπε ότι έπρεπε να γράψει ένα βιβλίο' πράγμα το οποίο έκανε' και στη συνέχεια η ποίηση άρχισε να ξεχύνεται από την καρδιά και την ψυχή της.

Η απώλεια της έφερε ένα κερδοφόρο δώρο' στην πραγματικότητα έγινε πολύ πιο παραγωγική συγγραφέας από ποτέ' η απώλεια της πρόσφερε τόσα πολλά για να γράψει.

Στόχος της να εγείρει την ευαισθησία' και να μας ενώσει όλους μαζί; να κάνει σ' όλους γνωστό ότι είναι αλληλένδετοι και ότι δεν είναι ποτέ μόνοι' γιατί κανένας δε θα έπρεπε ποτέ να αισθάνεται μόνος' και υπήρχαν τόσα πολλά να γράψει ακόμη...

Της άρεσε να θυμίζει σε όλους ότι υπάρχει τόσο πολλή ομορφιά στον κόσμο να απολαύσουμε κάθε μέρα όλες τις ημέρες της ζωής μας
ανεξάρτητα με το τι άλλο μας συμβαίνει' ήξερε πια ότι αυτό ήταν η αλήθεια.

Το τέλος . . .

Το τέλος θα έρθει με την τελευταία της πνοή, μέχρι τότε θα υπάρξουν ατελείωτες δυνατότητες και όπως κάθε καλή ιστορία κανείς δεν ξέρει πώς θα συνεχιστεί παραπέρα...

Μέχρι όλες οι σελίδες να γραφτούν απ' τη δική σας ιστορία, κάθε νέα σελίδα σας προσφέρει περισσότερες δυνατότητες για να ζήσετε τη ζωή σας πλήρη, με χαρά, και προσεγμένα.
αυτή είναι η ιστορία της. . . η δική μου ιστορία. . .

συνοπτικά. . .

Διασκεδάστε! Ζήστε μια ζωή γεμάτη με καλοσύνη, ελπίδα και χαρά.
Αυτό είναι, αυτό είναι η ζωή!

DO NOT FEEL SAD

Look at me!

I won't hurt you.
The stars up
though they explode
simply sparkle.

Do love me!
Do not suffer
I 'm near you,
from afar,
where I stand.

Gentle souls
we 're burning
as upright
candles in
candle stand.

Our dear love
While fatal,
blissful though,
like a dream
or a death.

Dedicated to Chouchou Maldemar

METAMORFOSIS

Feeling alone
in the middle of 
many people ,
opened my heart

to presences,
I would never
be able to see
they were near me.
Bright soulmates
surrounded me,
give me the hope
raise my dreams range
and excite me.

You, the cause of
my loneliness
and gateway
to a new today.
That's why we met
-don't say in vain-
since the one was
catalyst to
transformation
of the life of
the other ; in the
sunset of a
caterpillar
rises the start
of butterfly ...

THE UNFULFILLED

by  Nocid Eia

In your bottomless glance mines,
I fight against silence.
To your voiceless cries  exiles,
I even lose my prudence.

Trying in vain to eliminate
every memory kept,
unreasonably to castrate,
every beautiful is trapped

Absent love will be forgotten 
Might I  live  without.
But my heart have been broken,
like a bough cutted out .

Death won't hurt you neither surprise 
'f I die away from home...
It won't be me to close your eyes,
when your time will come.

Sometimes I  find a way to escape.
I see you as out of wear.
Vision endured till mornings rape
which for a while I dare.