CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

I'M NOT A REAL POETESS

Soon I will write

Real Poetry

I strive for this a long time

But I produce fragments

That's why I do not recommend them to the crowd

I shall continue to practice in metaphore

In allegory, in mappings

In symmetry, in beauty

On the rythm and the metron

I limited myself even in rhyme

So I acquire the courage

To write One day even only One poem

Which will sweeten the undeniable loneliness

TONGUE OUT

Tongue out

Life, home, manners

became caricatures

Cheap morticians

undertake even the

burying of dreams

An aversion

for what I was adequately

fascinated with

I do not understand anymore

On which foundations did I build

my life?

How much falsehood did they feed me?

It's outrageous really

that I return in adolescence

in my fifties .

I trust only

my internal being

and there's wilderness in there

That was your life, Madam!

Admit it! It has gone.

Take it easy. Peace...

Fly for the last time

Try your wings again

You are experienced in falling down

No problem...

TO FEEL

For some reason I gather things

I gather tears inside me

I gather screams

I gather words

As the ant does with the seeds

As I gather the summer clothes in the closets

Someday, one day will come, won't it ?

It will bloom again

Even for a moment

A great moment

The next great moment

I want to live now

Sometimes it is impossible

Nowadays, it is impossible for many people

I collect words inside me

I gather sceams

I gather tears

I feel

At least I feel something

(c)

CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU