DIMITRIS P. KRANIOTIS

TO THE DEAD POET OF OBSCURITY

(In honor of the dead unpublished poet)

Well done!

You have won!

You should not feel sorry.

Your unpublished poems

-always remember-

have not been buried,

haven't bent

under the strength of time.

Like gold

inside the soil

they remain,

they never melt.

They may be late

but they will be given

to their people

someday,

to offer their sweet,

eternal essence.

ASHES

The fireplace

was eager

to put a fullstop,

in the sentence

where the road

of my dreams

stuck

upon the word of happiness

with sparkles

of wet logs

I collected

from the inside of me

that I dared

to turn to ashes.

THE END

The savour of fruits

still remains

in my mouth,

but the bitterness of words

demolishes the clouds

and wrings the snow

counting the pebbles.

But you never told me

why you deceived me,

why with pain

and injustice did you desire

to say that the end

always in tears

is cast to flames.

[DIMITRIS P. KRANIOTIS]