Alive

Looking for the path that deadlock finds its way,
I'm traveling.

Building homes and changing lands,
I remember.

Fighting fire with alcohol and smoke,
I forget.

Sleeping with the danger to stay awake,
I smile.

Dressing cold nights with a sweet voice.
I cry.

Breaking walls in a home without doors,
I insist.

Planting flowers to smell their aroma for a second,
I appreciate.

Living years within moments,
I grow up.

Flying in worlds where oxygen is our breath,
I'm dreaming.

Sailing in deep blue to find shipwrecks,
I expand.

Seeing colors in black and white,
I hope.

Replying to messages with questions,
I wonder.

Preparing myself for my next mistake,
I am alive.

Learning to walk in time and space to meet you,
I miss you.

Typewriter

I want to write about you.

I want to capture your smile in a phrase.

I want to imprint on paper characters that reflect your gentle eyes.

I want to draw a diagram with the pulse of my heartbeat when I first met you.

I want to record the melody that you whispered once in the dark.

I want to paint with colours our first kiss.

I want to chronicle the stories we used to share and laugh.

I want to list our precious memories and secrets that nobody knows. 

But I can’t. 

I don’t remember your smile; I can only recall a mouth terribly shut.

I don’t remember your eyes, you looked down before the silence.

I don’t remember the pulse of my heartbeat; its sound changed the next moment.

I don’t remember the melody you whispered, its rhythm is locked in my mute world.

I don’t remember our first kiss; its sweetness was removed by a bitter slap.

I don’t remember our stories, the last dark one won the battle and killed the rest.

I don’t remember our memories and secrets, they are kidnapped by my future. 

But there are times that the past haunts my soul and a kiss from tomorrow resurrects my mouth.

And these times, my typewriter becomes an armchair; she invites me to sit down softly on her keys and beg me to talk.

These times, I recount and she writes. 

About all those old tales that are now covered by dust and those new that look at me with a tempting smile.

These times, my name is Afrodite Janus. 

 

Wind

Sometimes I wonder how things would be without the wind

That wind that lifts you up and push you to fly to unknown lands

That rude flurry of the sky that swirls your peaceful mind

That furious power that fights with your heart’s gravity and always wins.

Sometimes I wish I could swim in the air of my soul

I wish I could reach the sun and burn my desires’ wings
I wish I could dissolve my fears in the empty clouds

I wish I could land safely on the ground with the first rain drops.

Sometimes I smile for all those I could see from the heights

Roofs of forgotten dreams that incubate power and courage

Hats of noble men that cover wise wrinkles and rich inner worlds

Intelligent spirits that fight for a place in a body match race. 

Sometimes I want to scream and let my voice travel with the wind

To warn all those that try to hide their ugliness that are visible in the dark

To lift the face of those lonely blind walkers and make them trust the light

To speak to nature, declare my trivial presence and unify with its beauty.  

Sometimes I cry for all those that followed me silently and I forgot

For those that were killed unfairly when the wind was strong

For those that were lost by mistake and will never be found

For those that were struggling to speak but had no chance and voice.

Sometimes I imagine I open my arms and I surrender to the wind

Like a naked weak bird that trust its magnetic instinct

Like an erotic dance of a lone leaf that miss the ground

Like a sunray that travels fast knowing it will never come back.  

I met the sky once and begged: 

“Fly me to my dreams".

The sky replied:

"Maybe, if you let yourself into the wind, you may land in the right place someday, instead of looking around your whole life to find it. There, at that land, your dreams are waiting for you".

Hood

I am ready now to take off my hood.
My hesitations start to fall apart.
My emotions dance and flood.

I don't want just to hold your hand.
I want to feel you close.
In heart and soul, not land.

Longing for your hypnotic kiss.
I live to feel your smile.
To see you push the button of bliss.

Chase away your doubts and fears.
Shape a story, insist, make us stars.
Capture life in seconds and years.

I now freeze wishes and just pray.
This time life to play fairly its game.
Wise fate to show us the way.

What do you expect?

Nothing. 
Expectations kill the moment. 
I just need to get rid of this heavy hood. 
I need to feel the sun on my skin. 
I need to breath. 
I need to live. 
And yes. 
I need to see you coming. 

Loneliness

Kill loneliness.

Make a bet she will disappear with a smile.

Then shed a tear and let time shape your mouth.

Fight loneliness.

A scent in the air still tries to find its way.

A voice lost in time echoes from the future.

Stare at loneliness.

Draw her unshaped figure.

See her shadow, touch her color.

Seduce loneliness.

Look at her blind eyes, confess.

Speak her mute language.

Don’t blame loneliness.

Honor her presence; she came to teach you.

The value of a true kiss that last.

Listen to loneliness.

Amazing stories are waiting to be told.

In silence all voices are louder.

Don’t hate loneliness.

Protect her. Embrace her.

You will miss her sometime.

I asked loneliness to go.

She smiled and came closer.

I moved away. She approached.

I run. She looked after me.

I slept. She came in my dreams.

She gave me a gift. A bad company.

I asked her back. She returned.

We spent some time together.

She read me stories to sleep.

She gave me another gift.

Appreciation. 

For all that I look but I never see. 
For all that I keep but I never touch.
For all that I sense but I never feel.

I realized her precious presence.

We are now friends.

I love her good company.

She follows me in the crowd.

I dance with her.

We make long walks and talks.

I feel thankful for all that I learned from her.
I feel complete/

Lonely but never alone.

I owe her.

Love Chemistry

Love (L) is a rare molecule consisting of three atoms/elements tied together: Friendship, Attraction, Vision.

Friendship is a basic element; the soul of this small particle. Its unique property to maintain the molecule's stability under pressure is determinant for its strong consistency.

Attraction is an unstable element, temperature-dependent. It reacts violently with other elements, giving a strong exothermic reaction, resulting to its rapid inactivation if not properly handled.

Vision is a heavy element. It is important in maintaining L molecule' s property to create strong bonds with other similar molecules and remain constant even under the most extreme external conditions.

When two L molecules meet under proper conditions, their one-way reaction is immediate and inevitable. The use of a catalyzer is unnecessary. The new compound formed is the most precious in nature. Nothing and no one can break the bonds of the new strong and powerful substance. A return to its previous state is impossible.

What if under really extreme conditions the substance breaks into the two L molecules? 

Then it was not L molecules. 
It was something else. 











[*L molecule = oxytocin]

Happiness

It all relates to those that bring a genuine smile in your face.
It all smiles at you when it comes from inside.
It all comes from inside when you thankfully grab what life offers you.
It is all offered to you generously when you know how to share and dare the impossible.
It is all possible when you have the capacity to appreciate properly and on time.
It is all appreciated when you know what value means.
It is all valued by time, presence and absence, ends and beginnings. 
It is a beginning when there is a mature and sincere decision to follow a new choice.
It is a new choice when you know how, where and when to put an end.
It is an end when you lost something you considered all yours.
It is all yours; your dreams, your time, your desires, your mind, your heart, your path.
It is your right path, when you find it easy, as if it is meant to happen.
It all happens when you least expect it. 
It is all expected when you have tried hard and you deserve it.
It is clear that you deserve it when your soul is pure.
It is pure when your heart sings.
It sings when have all you ever dreamed of. 
It is all you ever dreamed of that determines who you really are.
It is who you are that lead you to specific life goals and their pursuit. 
It is a life pursuit that worth it when you feel peaceful, when you have reached happiness.

It is happiness when you insisted 
on those that really matter and 
you feel the circle is complete.

It is complete when you end up 
with a unique genuine smile in your face.

Throne

You are idle and calm, sleeping in the expensive king size bed of your loneliness, surrounded by people who are your friends, your lovers, your soulmates, your family, all those that live in the palace of your life. Some of them, small in number, are your life followers. You define them as trustful courtiers. They love you deeply and their road goes in parallel with yours. They observe silently your life, they accept your choices with respect, they are always there for you, to teach you, to advice you. These are your true friends and family that you want to feel close when you walk on the red carpet of your life's passage.

And there is "the one". The one that you selected to be your king, your partner, your love, your lover, your best friend, your breath, your everything. The one to whom you dared to show all the bright and dark rooms of your palace; your true self, your soul's secrets, your deep desires and wishes, your dreams and dark fears. The one that you trusted your heart's sound, your body's desires, your mind's buried concerns. The one that you gave access to your most precious place; your time's throne.

And you are so innocent and ignorant, or just so true to all others but to yourself, that you forgot that this throne is yours, only. Tired of standing up alone you forgot your title, you became someone else. ...You suddenly feel there is not enough oxygen in the air. You throw away your luxurious crown, you deny your tiresome swampy role. You feel the intense need to seek a quite and warm place down in the basement to spool yourself, to become a hamble servant to your needs, to you; to find love and peace in the small things that you ignored for so long. You hide for some time searching for your heart.

Two slim figures apporach gently and introduce to you; you face clearly your dreams and desires. They are so beautiful and young, so simple and genuine wearing their uniforms and white clean aprons. They smile at you conspiratorially and invite you secretly to show you the way towards a locked door on the loft that guides you to all you ever wished for. You look at them playfully and you smile back. They close their eye and disappear in the dark. You follow them in the wet corridors of your soul's castle. You hear creepy screams on the way; dead games of your mind. There is no fear running in your blood. Nothing can distract you from your thirst to follow those little witty shadows. A few more steps. You push the heavy door and you are finally there. Out. On the roof.

Oxygen. Your knees bend. You take a deep breath. Relieved and peaceful you lie down, you look at the stars, you touch your heart and you suddenly feel free and more rich than ever, having nothing but your true self by your side. You close your eyes for a while to feel the liberating power of the wind on your face. When you open your eyes you feel a touch. You see around. You find yourself sitting on your throne. Someone keeps your hands softly. He lies down next to you. He huggs your knees. He has transferred the throne at the roof for you so that you can be with your little friends, your dreams and wishes. He respects them. He needs them with you. You can feel all that he has to say in his eyes.  You know. He is the one. You put another throne close to yours. One black and one white.


[*Sometimes there is a moment that you see clearly whether "the one" is going to be there for you forever; close to you, your angel, your heart; to support you, to be proud of you, to need you, to love you, to miss you, to share with you, to desire you. A romantic way of life, yes, but who says life is not romantic? This moment you just know it's him or just a number, one more story. Then you write about it, to remember or to forget...sitting on your throne].  

What happened that dark night you went to that basement? 

...Maybe it was just the sad rhythm of a red waltz that you danced alone; that lonely spinning walk around yourself that made you realize that a real king who deserves to be "the one" gives place to his queen first, and always needs her by his side. 

That night you received and you gave a slap. The most painful was the one you gave to yourself. To wake up. You suddently did wake up. It was just a nightmare.

Mistake

This is our biggest mistake.

We always think we have time.

And the time of the past has gone.

We see its blurred figure already far away.

It doesn't turn its head back, just moves forward.

Proud, aware of its increased value; it disappears.

 

And the time of the present is here, available.

We see its innocent face staring at us helpless.

It stands speechless, waiting to be exploited.

Unaware of its potential and charm, cheats us that it will never go.

And the time of the future is only in our dreams.

We only see its seductive shadow that ignites our tension to fantasize.

It has its mouth shut, hiding its shady and pointy teeth.

Ready to bite our present, to snatch and familiarize the property of procrastination haters.

And we remain blind in our passion to ignore past, postpone present and expect future.

In a blend of visions, dead wishes, alive hopes, sick prospects.

And we wake up every day forgetting to live now.

Regretting the past and replacing the present with tomorrow.

And the present becomes past that we forget.

And the future becomes present that we hate.

And life goes on silently and we refuse to live.

And lost opportunities are becoming old, grey, dead.

And we become pessimists for the past that has been left unexplored.

And optimists for a future that will balance our woes.

And we think we are fighters but the truth is only one. 

We are nothing but ugly, terrified creatures, wasting time.

Unable to appreciate the true meaning of present.
We are suddenly old and wise enough to remember our mistakes. 

Small to realize that time is never ours.

So ungrateful that we continue our lonely trip with sole companion our fake illusions.

And we move on.  

And we fill our life with actions to feel busy. 

We walk, we cross bridges, we stand, we rest, we sleep, we wait, but we never think. 

Killed in the past, living as zombies in the present, hoping for a resurrection in the future.

And we continue our daily effortless energy waste of feeding others' hungry minds.  

To live a life that others think we deserve.

To build a worth-telling story so as others be proud to share.

To love and be loved expecting that others will never notice our deprived heart.

And we see time mocking at us and leaving.

And nothing stays the same.

And we count victories.

When all we have is our lost battles.

Dust traps of unexplored golden mines.

Of daily smiles replaced by sullen faces.

Of true loves and values replaced by ruthless ambitions.

Of a lost past and an unexplored present. 

But we are happy.

'Cause future is in front of us.

We have time.

Fall

I met a little girl once.

She was so strong and decisive. 

Her eyes were so bright and smart.

Her witty and innocent figure reminded me of a forgotten instict.

The passion for true love and meaningful life. 

The joy of fighting for your dreams and insisting against all odds. 

It was so evident. 

She was that kind of girl you just knew she was different.
Even if everything on her was so common. 

You could feel her endless potential.

Her dynamic powerful nature.

Born to be a leader and a servant at the same time.

Dedicated to her believes with no fear. 

Daring to live, to enjoy, to share, to fight. 

But at the same time, another little girl was living inside her. 

Unknown to most people. 

A sensitive, gentle and tender girl. 

Deeply emotional and introvert. 

Daring to love with all her heart and feel pain. 

She loved to speak and share all that made her happy, sad, alive.

Her world, her feelings, her visions, the colours of the sky.

But when her words had no sound she was silently hidding in her secret cave.

Time found her one night and gave her a gift.

A brush to paint and a pen to write.

So as never to feel alone. 

To speak and be heard. 

Even when noone listens.

This little girl..

I just knew all about her.

I saw her picture some days ago.

An old family album came into my hands.

I immediately recognized her.

I admired her familiar face for a while.

Her smile was still the same.

She didn’t know anything about her future yet.

I wished I could touch her, speak to her, advice her. 

All human emotions flooded over me in a moment. 

What would I say to her if I had the chance?
What would I change in her story?
Who can say things would be better if different?
Is she lucky after all?
Is she happy?
Why is she always so thirsty for passion? 

I touched softly the timeworn photo of the past.

Sweet memories jumped out of the black and white paper.

And suddenly I felt so proud of her.

Of the path she was about to cross.

Of the experiences she was going to taste. 

All part of her passionate and adorable nature. 

I suddenly knew. 
I wouldn’t dare to speak to her.

I wouldn’t like to change her destiny.

I would let her be shaped by her decisions and mistakes.

I would let her fall.

Again and again.

Until she knows.

Until she finds her way, her balance.

So as to stand tall.

Alone. 

I looked at the photo again. 

The little girl was looking me in the eyes. 

I saw her lips moving. 

She was trying to speak to me. 

She was trying to reveal my future. 

She was trying to warn me, to guide me, to protect me.

I smiled at her with affection. 

I now was sure. 
The little girl I once met never changed.

I closed the album.