Category: Poetry

Living / Death

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In darkness she walks the planes of thereafter

as death ‘round lives tender so mutedly preys

today then tomorrow draws her not closer

her presence through time shoring up in life’s bay.

A friend and a jester in shadows enveloped

she stands at my door asking with me to stay

the play of her forces draws me to greet her

for straying in blindness only time may delay.

Through pink and black leaves she outwardly beckons

and hands in cold terror belatedly folds

for both of us know she long here had treaded

leading our cycles unto the beyond.


–


In darkness we walk, praying together

her void with my tears I never did fill

and as I embrace her she weaves in all feeling

priming a heart for life’s waves never still.

The Sun of November / Fear rooted releasing

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The Sun of November

on grey seas reflecting

through solitude waving

and with it I move.


Uncertainty seething

and others sense drowning

the depths of our being

in stillness consumed.


Resistance to yielding

in virtue transforming

through darkness and greeting

an ancestry formed.


The Sun of November

through solitude waving

Fear rooted releasing

and with it I moved.



A translation of Galop (Γκάλοπ) by Lena Platonos (Λένα Πλάτωνος)

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Dear reader,

I offer here a humble translation of the closing track of Lena Platonos’ iconic album ‘Galop‘. I do this to honour the feat of storytelling that many of the pieces on the album represent.

Now,
just as a little air lifted,
everyone expected these days to be cool.
At least that’s what they all said.

Even the lady at the street pavilion
made mistakes in her transactions
from the excessive heat.

And on the radio
they prepare the winter
with humour and stability,
seriousness,

galloping through
and choosing different answers.

You close your eyes.
You arrange a date.
You close your eyes
and dream of different cities.
Sparsely populated cities in the night
lacking unnecessary sounds
whose light emanates from within the people,
from the walls of the houses.

A door opens.
Someone lifts their hand
and their greeting traces the shape of a star,

mmmm,

or rather a moon.

You reciprocate.
Slowly many gather,
then even more.

They all reciprocate
and their greeting traces the shape of a moon

and as they approach one another
they are united by that same gallop
of the first rain;
by the colour of the moon in their own touch.

Yes, and further down there is a couple
that have only a moon
that they cut in two,
biting the half

and again the half,
until crumbs are left behind.
Until nothingness remains.

But they share even that nothingness
as it appears that nothing doesn’t exist.

Maybe that’s why the light emanates from them so.

The Vastness

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She swims in a vastness which drifts


and within its essence caresses;


in affection of past, foregone, uncovered,


through rhythm and motion and boundless expanse.



So it becomes


(her advance of no mould)


in uncertainty covered and tension released,


as she swims through the vastness


(swallowed by it)


and her fondness softly embraces.



Stop / See / Embrace

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Hop past that stone

To skip to the next

(Jump, stress, race)

Seeking forever a new one to face.


Counting the stones

To move to the next

(Hop, skip, face)

Never enough those stones that I chase.


Eyeing ahead

To look past the next

(Count, move, chase)

Blinded as ever to the path that I trace.


Stopping at one

To see my own place,

(Eye, look, trace)

Vision in stillness I start to embrace.


Standing in current

To feel my own space

(Stop, see, embrace)

Restful in knowing there’s no need to press.


Playing in turning

To grow from my base

Learning at last how the now stone to grace.


The truthful trace / patient grace

Sia

To pause from love and take one’s break,

To fret alone, alone to shake,

To think about what’s there to make

And love not so for love’s own sake.

To rest the self and feel the space,

To love but once a many face,

To see how aimless is the chase

And bring to light the truthful trace.

To trust love’s purpose and its place,

To praise its whims with patient grace,

To draw the line, then to retrace

And faith in ease and life to place.

She, the Moon on a Pond

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She swims in the pond of driving desires

Deep and vast as it is.

Deep and vast as the skin and the touch

She praises and folds ’round another.

 

Enchanted, the moon wraps her light,

Plump and round as it is.

Plump and round as her mind, in flow,

Releases the body’s desire.

 

Her and the moon draw the thin string

Perilous and tender it is.

Perilous and tender as the love in the stars

That so easily never could be.

 

The moon on a pond, illuminates her –

Loving and gentle she is.

Loving and gentle as the line that she draws

Shimmering brightly for those who can see.