Poetic Movements

  I. The light so eternal shapes you in the world. II. You float bluer than any dream. III. I hold you on the surface before you slip from me away and beneath. IV. The morning star fades in the bergamot atmosphere. V. I long for dreams asleep and awake and always. VI. Night flights above us and I envy their promises, each and every single one of them. VII. Cricket songs as the night deepens first and foremost in my heart. VIII. Night flights now mistaken for rushing stars. IX. Rushed smokes in-between card turns quiet games underneath a quieter sky. X. You thrive in the light of the dashing dawn. (“You always look so cool”, Daisy Buchanan would have said instead.) XI. A taste of salt and sunscreen memories elsewhere short-lived. XII. The sun burns now and suddenly the mind more than the skin. XIII. The summer deepens; deeper than its nights deeper than the sea. XIV. The sun die...

  I Irregular images go by quite naturally. II A pull deep inside the wave plunges before the shore. III A procession of doors shutting firmly behind me. IV A further pull the water mumbles far from the shore. V Gardens how in their beauty spread in front of me. VI Hooded crows paired in the skies time-travellers alike. VII Stairs beneath my feet rise in rambling buildings. VIII A single white feather by the wind carried across horizon deep. IX The train with all its nine coaches drags in tunnels stoically. X Sky creatures bizarrely by me undisturbed in the same sea. XI Words of use written or spoken lavishly, kindly. XII Thick shadows of the olive trees for a moment still unnaturally. XIII In a bookstore’s poetry section we speak for ten minutes then never again. XIV All the sounds finally surrender to the eyes’ silence. Summer 2024, London – Samothraki. Picture: Tavist...

I Your dreams are lately red. In the defiant light of the sun we appear less clean. What if I hide underneath the surface of the sea? Love was supposed to be effortless at start. Same songs same rain all the things you are doing with others. Storms unleashed threads pending cuts; your dreams are red. II Night butterflies fill the room night flowers drop tears reflections of us populate the walls underneath the sky I inhale the stars. The sea will expand to the world’s end (I know now) mountains will for once retract is it possible is it thinkable to stand here still? May 2024, Samothraki.

I Your lips had a familiar taste of bitter almond. II In the mirror a wheatish face only reminding of summers past. III We let go in dark waters idle. IV The salt burnt your skin & my heart. V Time repeated itself always late in the afternoon. VI The mountain deluged with light eternal. VII Fires broke out without a reason endlessly. VIII Black cats marched the lanes like a conquering army. IX We were all waiting for something or someone. X A night sky’s traffic busy with stars & airplanes. XI We danced up to the sunrise our bodies suddenly younger. XII Your memoirs were dense & secret. XIII The land still stood across remote & immobile. Summer 2022, Samothraki. Photograph: the moon rising above Saos mountain, one day before the Buck supermoon; 12 July 2022, Samothraki.

I. Chess games we played in sight plain. II. Queens and Kings in stone built now towards a tantric sleep . III. Movements unforeseen on your fingertips beneath. IV. Inside your dreams there’s been some long-awaited win. V. Thoughts; they shush and they shroud. VI. In transcendence souls reach out aloud. VII. Easter scents – the belated awakening of spring woven as such to be. April 2022, Athens.

Ι. Ξυπνάω εδώ κάθε φορά νωρίτερα. ΙΙ. Οι μέρες & οι νύχτες ένας κύκλος με διάμετρο όνειρα που σβήνουν πριν το ξημέρωμα. ΙΙΙ. Στη σκιά του ήλιου αντικατοπτρίζονται τα λόγια του νερού · ώσπου οι ροές του ποταμού αλλάξουν και πάλι βούληση. IV. Αγγίζω τη σκέψη σου τ’ απομεσήμερο όταν το αλάτι αποκτά ευωδιά βασιλικού. V. Απ’ το σούρουπο πάντα ξεπροβάλλει το διαφεύγον αύριο. VI. Στη νοητή συνέχεια της στεριάς νοητά στεκόμαστε. Αύγουστος 2021, Σαμοθράκη.

I. The drizzle now drying on the body a memory that hasn’t been yet. II. A warmth yet unknown settling in. III. Subtle and ordinary the day begins. IV. The streets for now unseen anticipate to be stepped upon. V. The snow uncertain its coming already feels like a fire. VI. An avalanche – can it ever be populated? VII. Through the atmosphere clear as glass the light pierces all that’s surfaced. VIII. Our bodies on this surface travelling with time, ageing. IX. What are poems about if not recording the changes in the hours? January 2021, Athens. Photograph: portrait of Virginia flourishing in the winter sun; Athens, 13 Jan. 2021.   

I. Between you              & me a hurricane always lurking. II. Across the atmosphere words unspoken floating. III. And stanzas in my hands have been long dying. IV. Through the open window the broken window a room to be viewed. V. Two hands in one; VI. who’s awaiting whom tonight? VII. Numbers and verses I’ve been counting. VIII. The vase on the room’s corner fading. IX. Uneasy eyes foreground and background. X. You & me: a hurricane. June 2020, Athens. Photograph: 1 June 2020, Athens.

More than you, my body craved the sun.

I. Στις ταράτσες ψηλά ατίθασες στους καιρούς οι δεκαοχτούρες ερωτοτροπούν. II. Η βιντεοκλήση σπάει τα κλειστά σύνορα. III. Στις μικρές κοινωνίες ποτέ δε φαντάστηκα τόση εμπάθεια. IV. Κοιμάσαι περισσότερο · πατημασιές πάνω στα σύννεφα. V. Αύριο θα είναι μία άλλη μέρα; VI. Στο filofax καθημερινά διαγράφονται events. VII. Τις νύχτες το φεγγάρι επισκιάζει τις κραυγές των ασθενοφόρων. VIII. Κάθε μέρα είναι  μία  ακόμα εξουθενωμένη Κυριακή. IX. Η αγάπη μου για σένα γέμισε τις άδειες πλατείες. Απρίλιος 2020, Αθήνα σε lockdown. Φωτογραφία: αστικές σκιές υπό το φεγγάρι · Κορυδαλλός, 10.04.20.