It's not the time of dandelions;
they've all been blown away;
those fragile fragments now remind
the shooting stars of day.
And though the seedlings blown away seem gone;
they float as static light and air along
as pieces of a never ending earth –
a universe recycling its dearth.
All matter is
and always is.
A dandelion
may be his
smile. And think – drink water from your sink –
it may be reimagined stars you drink.
you never thought to chew my lips like gum,
or scream your hurricane to flap my skin,
you never served your eyes to me like rum,
but breathed your name most like a thought within,
you were neither a virtue nor a sin,
i had no boast of you nor did confess,
never a scowl or howl but halfway grin,
you had a name my mind can not profess,
today you question me in much distress,
we met and spent the day but yesterday,
you claim you wore a pretty summer dress,
how could i not recall these things you say?
whoever you were, whatever your name,
to've met you or to not would be the same
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
to hate me is the only way to live,
for loving me is holding back the clock,
don't hold its hands, they'll break for they won't give,
and now these hands, your heart are made of rock,
your lips are sealed to me as with a lock,
and though i scream to you you'll have no speech,
our love you've pawned, our friendship you now hock,
and all my protestations can not reach,
your heart's allowed new love to seep and breach,
its torment's come from loving fully two,
both loves have grated on your nerves to screetch,
so now you bid your old one adieu!
and i, the one you swore you'd always love,
fall off the precipice by violent shove
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
i wish, i wish, i were a simple fish,
that spends a thoughtless life in salty sea,
is hooked, and fried, and ends up on a dish,
deboned and sliced to pieces silently,
for i have been too human-like for me,
and cry out salty rivers held by dams,
for losses that, to fish, would never be,
with words upon my inner teeth enjambed,
yet if i were, the salt would grow by grams,
the sea in saltiness would kill all life,
before the fish had any chance to scram,
avoiding death to live with heavy strife,
for all my tears in water'd be unseen,
fish mouths agape would know not why they scream
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
six years have passed, the family is fine,
for we don't speak about him anymore,
but mother, with a frequent random line,
which closes lips, draws eyes down to the floor,
no, we don't speak about him anymore,
but fill our mouths with all things that distract,
our open living room has one closed door,
we chat about all things except one fact,
discussions, all sweet-tempered by our tact,
with tact we step around the elephant,
our dire necessity's survival act,
we've learned to force the smile and quell the rant,
at end of day each one within his room,
speaks to his memory in tones of gloom
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
