Thursday, May 1, 2025

PETROS K VELOUDAS

 




Her Invisible Form


It sits on the

calm soil

and hears the aftershocks

vibrations of the lyrics

as it pulsates

the pen before swimming

in the ink

Then he drinks bitterly

water from

soul of the trees

and at that time

a drop of woe'

wet his drunk

coat…

The cloud was moved

which calmed down today

nature, calm down

the cataclysmic floods

from the breasts of the mountains...

He then sits on a stool

and paints her form

above the portrait of loneliness…

He stands speechless nearby

in the quiet heart

of a sea

which each

 so much

she slaps him

with her wave

to remember her form again! –


Broken Glass


He hurled one

glass beaker

to the sleeper

helium

the glass like

shell tore it in two

the skull of the sun

and yellow blood

started to flow

to become one

small railway

with no rails

the yellow blood has arrived

until the pot

with the little flower

without a name

The pot was watered

and filled bright

yellow color it

face of the day...

Then the little flower

came out of the pot

and piece by piece

he began urgently

to assemble

the broken glass

only now o

sun held it

glass and drank with passion

the ..agony of the silent glass!


PETROS K VELOUDAS


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