the dream throughout time's pass
(oh it's gone)

very few people have a clear vision of their goal that is not to be achieved
but is to make them want to get better
during the whole time of their lives.
For others, if they once discover such a goal, it is something they have to keep on shaping and letting go
and finding again, not pursuing and not stopping being worried about its evolvement.

so the seasons pass.
each reappearing either as a form of wonder or as a distant reality that has no beginning and no end.
we can teach ourselves to refine the thought and to be open by claiming a time of touch, a part of land when our senses and our thoughts are no longer separated.

we shall then have formed the kind of relation which we might recall as our freedom.

so much is going on that we don't even have the time and the strength to think of. How can we relate to all this that is happening so fast and so far away and not bound ourselves to the mundane of repetition? how can we stop finding pleasure in those repeated acts which form a kind of certainty and reassurance and an excuse for our lack of time and energy? every morning every noon every night

they said there has been a rebellion in egypt, leading to several deaths and thousands of injured people and a new formed government by the very same person the people have turned against to and some new promises
some 2000 people lose their jobs in greece everyday, according to an article of a newspaper left on a table i passed by; i find it hard to accept. My neighbors' dad is in the hospital and tomorrow is 9 months since my grandmother passed away. In real time that is.


the plant loses leaves
they fall to the ground one by one
there is not enough light
the house looks empty
i stare at it all puzzled
suddenly there is the sound of falling
the mere sound of touching something unchangeable


going again and again
to the same place
through the same route
the chairs bring back memories of people once greatly loved
walls portray the shadow of the hand
the yellows smile at me with all the grandma's lively shine!
i said having lost everything from sight
seeing through a dreamt insight


gifts for the memory to withhold
the oranges, the fruit, the flower
the eye and all that are doomed and free
such captures are our gifts
the trophies for our journey.


on reflection
about direction
and limit


this is from Finland, of course.
I could almost reach the untouchable surface between me and my reflection.

Το ενθυμούμαι ζωηρότατα, καθώς και το εξής παράξενον, επιτρέψατέ μου, μοναδικόν ούτως ειπείν: σε κάθε σεισμική δόνηση, εσείοντο, ως ήτο φυσικόν, και οι πάμπολλες μουριές, και βλέπατε τότε να πίπτουν συγχρόνως χιλιάδες κατακόκκινα μούρα. Μια θαυμασία εικών, έπιπτον όλα μαζί, χιλιάδες γινωμένα μούρα, θαυμασία εικών ενθυμούμαι...

Από το Μνήμην άειδε θεά της Κικής Δημουλά (Εκτός Σχεδίου, Ίκαρος, 2005)


everything sits under the sun.
Kindly resting before diving into darkness.
Showing its features: the shape, the imaginative color
the implications for the human mind.
Slightly absorbent
as an old sponge.
Carrying some load for the human perspective.

a strange thought just came to my mind:
whoever lives closer to the archetypes of tales
might live closer to life, i am sorry i cannot use the term real one.
There is some definite truthfulness in the shape of circle,
you know,
sometimes i think that the irregular protesting and provoking shapes
are handsome
sometimes i think of them as mere dangerous.
I am sure this doesn't make any sense but to myself. Just a note, then. Hello.


outside there is the most silent cold and a bright sunlight. One might almost feel suddenly sad to drink coffee next to the fireplace, holding pieces of wood, wearing light clothes, smelling pies, singing along with little birds, moving from page to page, almost guilty for feeling content and warm and safe.


it's already the 8th day. Nothing much seems to have changed with the change of the calendar. The same views are out of our windows, the same chores are to be done, almost the same words we can think of, we have not yet discovered one new. Still, you know,
some new people are around us now,
and some known to us people are gone.
Like in the river's waterway, there is water all right, but even the idea of stableness does not apply.

but most of us need a kind of a reassurance. Temporariness is a way to cut time into tiny pieces. And if we remember the little, we are safely keeping some pieces of the whole.


where are you? might you be behind those rocks?
it has not even reached the shore
water is so cold
we have to follow a route of rocks
where to? where to?