You Forgot
wrong and you
know it
but you have to
learn to suffer
In the station
you will wait for
the spring you
expect
and yet you are
old for enduring...
And your love
that you had lost
in the suitcase
you had forgotten
the dreams that
you had folded
In the canopy of
the sky
you had spread
But when love
becomes a
habit then when
everyone asks for
help, you are
somewhere else
and cry the
truth that your
lover was
reading
from bitter
fairy tales...
Love Is Blossoming
A flower that
life is love
In the garden of
the soul
blooms the kiss,
the caress...
Love transforms
with a brush of
joy
sadness
Love is
translated
into many
languages
It brings
spring to the look
it brings the
smiling sun
Love will say
that you give emotion
and receive a
breath of happiness
Love someone
said
that it is the
embrace of the stars
in the peaceful
and bright moon of companionship...
The Pooling Waters Of Poetry
Pooling waters
cause
conflicts at the
level
of a
non-negotiable
hyperbolic egocentrism.
Suggestions for
exchanging expressions
under the cover
of immature inks.
Virtual
frequencies of waves,
an enchanted
tide of thoughts
that penetrates
mental wires,
artificial
smell, melancholic
psychically
charged sentiments
and
perceptions...
Those who know
how to recognize
the words are
not ashamed to
look them in the
face, since
they themselves
neither swim in shallow mental
waters, nor do
they converse in maddening
undercurrents
and tender ups and downs
in a ship of
poetry anchored in lands of
spiritual
silence.
Thoughts
tyrannize the night,
their
sleeplessness becomes a moon sponge
fighting with
star swords and shields
the heavenly
pillows of unruly clouds.
Ponding but
internally peaceful
poetic waters,
phrases and exclamations being
refreshments
flow seductively
on the lips of
paper pages
thirsty for eternal coolness,
having scrawled
words
and crossed
adverbs in entire
headings of the
modern paltry,
tasteless oozing
wooden discourse of knowledge.
Then as if from
a machine hope comes the
liberating,
heartfelt kiss of poetry to
redeem
hesitations, notions and entertainment
the pages are
reborn bright without routines
and gray houses
or a gray neighborhood
the inner
psychic sun bathes with its lyrical
rays, giving
true meaning
to a weary traveler
the exuberant...of
"becoming"...down!
PETROS KYRIAKOU VELOUDAS
PETROS KYRIAKOU
VELOUDAS
was born in Agrinio in 1977, where he still lives today. He graduated in
Greek Culture at the Open University of Greece School of Humanities in Patras.
He has worked as a radio producer in local radio stations, while publishing his
humorous poems or stories in the newspapers of the city of Agrinio such as
MACHITIS, ANANGELIA, PALMOS. He is a kindergarten teacher and works as a
private employee. Today he is a member of the International Society of Greek
Writers (DEEL). His literary work is included in the Panhellenic poetic encyclopedia
of CHARIS PATSIS. He is a member of the International Society of Greek Writers
(DEEL), executive director of the poets' guild of Argentina, academic poet of
the Brazilian poetry academy-AMCL, member of the WORLD POETS UNION, WRITERS'
UNION, WORLD POETS UNION, GREEK POET AMBASSADOR FOR EQUALITY IN BANGLADESH. His
poems are translated into many languages, he is also a lyricist. His songs are
on youtube. Hobbies, comic reader and creator, amateur actor.
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