You went back to the youth room
and you wondered
which whims did not let you get as far as you could
which fears and disappointments did not let you mark your own destination with your compass
It is not only one  Ithaca
not only one destination
why did not you come back like a ghost one night why you borrowed your dreams from the deads
Every night you hear the ship that sails
Why  you never search the sailor who longed to look with your eyes
and to measure the loneliness of the deep ocean
You went back to the youth room
and you wondered why you did not paint the path you deserved, but you let the boredom and the everydayness smother a small alley with a half-
an alley to walk
an alley to get lost ...

THE UNDEFINED POEM

              I ask you ask they ask
            We ask the same questions
       And we demand the same answers
     But how can we demand for answers
                        From whom
               We are dust in the wind
             And shadows in the desert
       And words in an undefined poem
      We don’t understand his language
         We don’t understand his rhyme
         We don’t understand his rhythm
           But we suppose must sing it
               We must scream with it
       We must scream for life and light
                   And for light in life
   Its difficult for a common people like  
       everyone of us
   to elevate in the sky with this poem
but its difficult also to elevate in the sky
           without this poem
                     The eternal flame
                     The eternal fog
                  The eternal everything
                  The eternal nothing
         “I am not sure about what I say
          But I speak that’s for sure”
  These are words of this undefined poem
      The poem speak I speak you speak    
                  everybody speaks
  the poetry of ignorance or the ignorance  
        of poetry
         No rules just delays and various
           Meanings
    The poem is undefined and infinite
                  The problem is
  That all of us as words of this poem
                  We are not infinites
       So the poem goes on without us…

             CHRISTOS HARATSARIS
                             POET
                    ATHENS-GREECE

SOMETIMES

Sometimes I wonder how am I suppose to
live with my anxious self
I cannot spare the sea that’s obvious
And I cannot escape from the malicious
Boredom of life
I also cannot live without my loneliness
And that is fine in some way
Because I am looking for stars in the
roads
And I only realize the full absence of stars
from the walking avenues
The sky believe what I am saying but he
insist to keep the stars on his body
like a holy tattoo
and that is fine in some way

because I certainly don’t want to see the
stars under the lost footsteps
of the avenues  forgotten pioneers
Sometimes I wonder how am I suppose
To built the ship of my destiny
How am I suppose to fit the lyrics
With my poem
Unfortunately I don’t have the answer
And this tell me that maybe I cannot
finish the ship which can take me to the
land of tomorrow
Sometimes a blind poet come into my dreams
And try to make me one of his lyrics
He realize of course that I cannot sing
and he also knows that I cannot be a poet
but he also knows that I could give

everything
if I could be the Ulisses of my life
even for a minute
if I could follow the road for my
Ithaki…  

              CHRISTOS HARATSARIS
                             POET
                     ATHENS-GREECE

WHAT IS LOVE FOR A STATUE

           I can see through your land
      Through your sea and your horizon
          But what I see I don’t know
          Are you a woman or a statue
        Your hair are made of loneliness
        Your eyes are made of centuries
            Your blood is made of stars
        You are so far but yet so distant
              You skirt me sometimes
Because I think that you steel my ability
            To look with my inner eyes
    But the worst is that you control me
    So much and I cant recognize myself
      Are you a spirit of love or a misery
    Yet
           I can see through your land
      Through your sea and your horizon
    But I cant understand why you left me
            Forgotten in an empty road
           Why you ignore my footsteps
          Why your chains hold me tight
            In your anything except love
               What is love for a statue
    What is love for a creature which his    
                blood is made of stars
                 the philosopher cries
   cause he can say by sure what are you
as I can see you are something between
                a woman and a statue
        you have the beauty of a woman
            and the hardness of a statue
        you are made of flesh and marble
    you are made to cause tears and fears
     to your lovers
    but how can anybody make love with a  
    statue
   how can anybody be a woman and a
   statue in the same time
           I can see through your land
      Through your sea and your horizon
           But I still wonder what I see
           What are you and what I am
                To insist loving you
              But mainly I still wonder
              What is love for a statue

              CHRISTOS HARATSARIS
                             POET
                    ATHENS-GREECE

FORGET THE FAIRYTALES

  Leafes believe the fairytales of the wind
  And blows away
  Remember to forget the fairytales

  Waves believe the fairytales of the land
  And loose the sea
  Remember to forget the fairytales

Fairies believe the fairytales of the moon
And loose their winds
Remember to forget the fairytales

Desert believe the fairytales of the
shadow and become illusion
Remember to forget the fairytales
    Sky believe the fairytales of the earth
    And loose the sun
    Remember to forget the fairytales

   Books believe the fairytales of the truth
   And loose their language
   Remember to forget the fairytales

   Childrens believe the fairytales of the
   adults and loose their childhood
   Remember to forget the fairytales.

             CHRISTOS HARATSARIS
                            POET
                    ATHENS-GREECE