CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

 

 

Cleanup

 

She came to clean the house-

the dung of Augeas.

I suppose it would take

a new Hercules

to do it.

I was in despair.

I begged her

not to leave me alone

in there again.

“Sorry for the mess,” I said,

asking to be forgiven.

“I can no longer

keep his house tidy.

I don’t know…

I don’t feel like it…

I don’t love him

as I did.

Maybe I am older.

Maybe I am punishing him.

I will pay you more.

Just bear our dirt.

Take it away.

Throw it away.”

And she said:

“I was not meant

to be a housekeeper.

But I need the money.”

I felt worse.

But she needed the money.

How could I push her away

from her destiny?

I could not afford

to pay

for her lost dreams too.

 

The Turtle

 

Is it wrong to say

that I am different?

 

That I admire those

who express themselves easily,

though I never could?

 

I am going away, my little one.

 

I grow wild.

I became angry all at once

with everything

I should have faced

long ago.

 

As long as you were near,

you sweetened me.

 

They say there are no illusions.

 

But the face of the world

changes

with the eyes that see it

and the moment that holds them.

 

So I peep from inside my shell,

like a wise old turtle

who lived two hundred years

instead of one hundred,

and is now endangered.

 

Do turtles go through menopause?

Or do they go on,

carrying life

until the end?

 

They do, I suppose.

 

I do not.

 

I am tired.

Most of all, because of you.

 

You made me feel

we are no longer needed

on this planet.

 

So why begin again?

 

Whatever I once admired

in my kind

faded to nothing in your presence.

 

I am too tired

to build everything

from the beginning.

 

So here I remain,

inside my shell,

preparing a long journey

with all my kind—

 

going to find our destiny elsewhere,

hoping the others

will justify

the reason for their existence.

 

And perhaps I, too,

will forget-

through something quiet,

something I have not yet known,

before I disappear.

 

Through somewhere

that does not wound.

 

My Command

 

Live! Live! Live!

Get away!

Stand upright!

Look ahead!

 

Force destiny

to face you

as a soldier.

 

That inner impulse-

I will give it to you.

I just need you.

 

Do not drag me

into pain.

 

I look at you

in the eyes—

with one bullet

in my forehead,

and another,

point-blank,

in my heart.

 

Ready within,

wayfarer.

 

Live! Live! Live!

 

There is no later.

Only

this moment—

take it.

©Chryssa Velissariou

 

 

CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU

 

CHRYSSA VELISSARIOU is a physicist, educator, and principal of the General Lyceum of Domeniko, based in Greece. She is the founder of STEAMDUP EUROPE (NGO) and an active member of the social cooperative “Smiling Sketches,” with strong involvement in European projects (Erasmus+, Creative Europe) that combine science, art, and education. She designs participatory actions, audiovisual productions, and innovative educational programs with a focus on the environment and storytelling. As a poet, she has received international distinctions, including 1st International NBPF Beat Poet Laureate and NBPF Poet Laureate Lifetime, and serves as Poetry Canada & International Peace Ambassador to Greece. Her work explores human experience, vulnerability, and the search for meaning through creative expression.