Poetic Movements

Oktovria Kotsira's response to Sundays & other days Sunday is the day you don't have to make your bed you don't have to get up at all, put on uncomfortable clothes, your high heels and go conquer the world. Sunday is the day you can lay low you can swing back and forth future plans, digest your failures and reassure yourself you' re gonna make it. Sunday is the day for rosy cheeks from the warmth of your sheets or just from the excitement of too many cookies. Sunday is the day of no to-dos lists of life spent watching FRIENDS and reading same pages again and again. Retrospection, breathing slowly, sinking and floating within yourself. On a rainy Sunday brainstorming words travelling from Tayport to Athens. 24 February 2019, Athens.

Sunday is the day for cream cakes and breezy walks by the river for yesterday’s newspaper casually folded on the floor to be fought by the cat and for all these plans to be falling apart for the sake of some peace of mind. The other days bear the taste of hasty filter coffee hazy eyes back and forth on bus rides home-cooked meals in the evening craved since the way back commented texts laying on the floor just like the cat equally uninterested in the fuss of ordinary life. Exhausted soles aching yet dancing their way to one more Sunday. February 2019, Tayport.

[a sleep poem] Sink. To sink down into gravity eyes/brows arms palms knees ankles the waist the spine with all its weight all its burdens all its importance sinking; yet the mind to keep extending to areas unknown breaking the silence the lullabies of gravity the barriers of hypnosis stretching the line between what’s conscious and what’s not. January – February 2019, Athens, Greece & Dundee – Tayport, Scotland.

Oh, how is your sleep? You ‘ve lifted the veil of mortality & who knows where your paws are taking you now. Will you be chasing again, I wonder, watery drops in a bathtub, perhaps your own? Will you be having a sofa of your own, sometimes shared sometimes monopolised? Will you be looking for something, going after it & then letting it go? Your sleep is deep undisturbed; are we in your dreams? Or are you chasing the sunlight you couldn’t for so long? 12 February 2019, Tayport. For our short-lived little friend, Mimi the cat. May she enjoy the remaining of her 9 lives.

The night dropped its veil unusual for wintertime; its whiteness covered the soil and then the soil vanished                        underneath as if it were all a dream; the journey      the frost                     the cold hands                            the dried lips. And it was all quiet. Quiet & still. Tayport, 3 Feb. 2019.