ΑΦΙΕΡΩΜΑ ΣΤΟ http://antonioblunda.wordpress.com

Ο αγαπητός μου φίλος και πολυβραβευμένος Ιταλός ποιητής από το Παλέρμο Antonio Blunda με τίμησε με ένα όμορφο αφιέρωμα στην ιστοσελίδα του και τον ευχαριστώ πολύ. Δείτε το και απολαύστε και τα δικά του ωραία ποιήματα στα ιταλικά. ΠΑΤΗΣΤΕ ΕΔΩ!
My friend 

and multiprized Italian poet Antonio Blunda from Palermo has honoured με with a tribute to my poetry in his web page. Please take a look if you wish and enjoy there the beautiful poems of Antonio too. Thank you, Antonio Blunda!!! CLICK HERE!

ESCAPE

the_waiting_escape by Stephen Dabrowski

ESCAPE.

I want to leave here.
I started to be unjust,
to peg and hurt thee with nails,
because only then, I can
mindful to remain.

No longer covered
by the ordinary logic,
eradicated from ground,
I walked reversely
only for thy sake.

Guess I could escape
from my so devastating,
anarchist autonomous
self,  if I will mentally
try to murder thee.

Futile ... Do not smile!
Often thou rose in me from 
the dead, but perhaps this cycle
of the seasons  let me indeed 
survive through the loss...

I want to take back
my carelessness, my laughing,
my deferred, belated, unbound 
adolescence, thou hast stolen
from me only as a loot.

I will revenge the
time, which misconducted me,
it gave me, what it promised
for my living's beginning, 
prosperously in the end.

Ι WILL ΝΟΤ ...

The " I WILL"
I never liked it.
I will not fly, I will not go

Painting: Vanitas by Pieter Claesz of Haarlem, 1630

I WILL NOT die one day ...
I fly and I walk, I live
because I still exist.
Otherwise
let me get my dagger
and fall in love
with the beyond.
But how can I offer to myself
such a favor?
I WANT to be,
even crawling.
I am here to stay,
I came to WIN.
I gave birth to winners.
Now I OWE
as my strong branches
need a winner root
for them to keep growing.

LETHARGY

Painting: Daniel Ridgway Knight A Pensive Monent

Listen thou to me, trampled daisy!
My soul wedded to thy petals;
my heart way off- key, put out of use.
Maybe we even won't survive this year...

My life swayed by beautiful illusions!
I smelled beautiful feelings in my dreams!
Awkward Sleeping Beauty's awakening .
The kiss of the Prince plunged a flowing life
into life force's draining, hideous doom.


Ah, the voracious, merciless Eros!
Impetuous knight without logic ...

GONE DAWN DONG DORE DONG ALONE

http://soundcloud.com/chryssa-velissariou/audio-recording-on-sunday-2

ANGEL

Εσύ ήσουν πεθαμένος. 

Εγώ τώρα πεθαίνω!

MANIA (ENGLISH VERSION)

‘Guardian of Dreams’ by Klapouh Yuri

I want to write now;
my hand's eating me.
I do not want to eat,
I do not want to sleep,
I just want to write now,
because inside me
I'm slaughtered , I suffer.
Secretly might I
manage better.
Hidden in a cave,
naked, hanging only
with black ink,
writing on my skin,
writing on the walls,
on the ceiling and on floors,
writing to be extinct
together with this martyrdom.
I wouldn't be tempted my passions
to be pilloried by me
all over the world.
I wouldn't be tempted
to turn myself to the neighbor
desperate for salvation.
I wouldn't be tempted
you to beg.
I would extinguish quietly.
Where are you? Even though
I was howling,
you never saw,
what I was going through.
You were just passing by.
But now I,
I WANT to write.

BIG BANG

http://schweizerarts.blogspot.gr/2011/01/song-painting-and-video-big-bang.html

Well, weird!

I conquer Atlantis

through and through ...

I laugh and talk

with the elders

of Babylon

I copulate

with blue-blooded elves

I satisfy the insatiable

appetites of African Magus

I reproduce my generation

with wolves, lions and eagles

I crawl kissing the legs

of jesters and of insane ones ...

Though I am losing you!

Shame! 

But after all perhaps

it does not suit you,

the uproar of my existence.

How to connect 

a mathematical point 

with chaos?

The death of one of them

feeds the beginning of the other ... 

MY SELF'S QUEST

painting: innermost by Mohannad Orabi

Who am I...
Who will tell me?
You
my passionate lovers
have you really 
understood anything about me?
Or you didn't even look for?
You stayed just for your needs
Once you started to know me
you left with your tail between your legs
or you stayed out of habit.
Who ever learned my innermost?
My seedlings maybe?
I nourished them 
through my breasts for years
with their eyes clinging to my soul
absorbing my personal dreams
Until I stopped anymore 
to ask if I still was me
Am I indeed?
Thou hast madeth me remember
how it is to be myself
I blame thee!
Thou art the cause that I try 
awake 
with blood for ink
to meet with my stray existence
Because who else will testify 
who I am?
Who else really cares?
Thou? 
Let me laugh! 
No!
Thou lookst so persistently for thy reflection!
Oh my poor self!
No matter how diligently I detected
an exit to find from my loneliness
unfortunately 
I might always be the only one 
who my self-knowledge will seek.
COPYRIGHT2012 CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

ROMANTIC

What else could feathered beings do
in spring
than chirp about
winged Eros?
With whom dying butterflies
could lie
in fall
than with wing flapping hopes?