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(In honor of the dead unpublished poet)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Your unpublished poems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]
0 Comments
