Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aurora kastanias Mar 2018
Countries fabricated
by roaming people drawing
borders behind them,
trails of hostility

to select those who would cross
rims after them, to keep
resources to themselves,
lands of prosperity

on which to build, greed
homes to shield,
newly engendered families
xenophobes,

induced to believe
by governors they are different,
they are better, superior
and ultimately worth

much more, than any stranger
standing on the other side
of imaginary lines, they are barbarians,
unbelonging

to great civilisations, against whom
we need protection,
stealing scientists
left right and centre,

research peddled as development
promising a high from nuclear weapons,
bombs called mothers to adore
campaigning over a grand potency

participating in, an international
mallet-measuring contest
whilst signing accords,
for those who have to keep

and those who don’t
not to aspire, to acquire,
a prize for populations
who have successfully or can

destroy approaching aliens
simply by, pressing the right button
on a joystick suitable for games,
of mass destruction

ten thousand nuclear warheads
ready for use.
On nuclear weapons and non-proliferation treaty
aurora kastanias Mar 2018
Why is it so arduous
for us to believe we are
beguilingly startling
creatures as none?

Whilst we look at others
we call animals and remain,
befuddled by the perfection
of a nature we reclaim,

temporary beings
roaming freely a land
of prosperous marvels
releasing an infinity

of colours, delicate those
of uncountable flowers,
green that of trees
erecting forests of auburn,

as we spectate the dance
of stones raising mountains,
following the streams
sourcing from them,

cascading into rivers
torrents pouring into
shimmering oceans
unfolding to the limits

of our sight,
where water touches the sky
and we stare marvelling,
at sunset giving birth

to myriad stars iridescent
on black canvas.

Why is it so arduous
for us to believe we are
beguilingly startling
creatures as none?
On human beings and nature
aurora kastanias Mar 2018
You took me dancing by the harbour
after snow fell the night, covering
sand and sea in white for an instant
mist in my eyes, as we twirled

towards dizziness held
by the heated pressure of your right
hand posed on my back
the seat of my emotions pressed

against your chest, blind
to others the cold
breeze a scorching ray,
hitting violently on pins and needles

skin an awkward sensation,
confusing ice for fire,
strikes for strokes,
your attention for love.
On encounters and dates
aurora kastanias Mar 2018
As February departs with promises
of spring abandoning premature buds
yellow on solitary mimosa trees left
to freeze and shiver under the unwanted

caress of Russian buran, sternly gliding
over mounts rivers and valleys to cross
the unsurmountable Urals, past graves
to the defeat of many warriors, undaunted

by obstacles to reach the Italian peninsula,
covering lands and my garden in white
blankets of thick soft snow, suffocating my roses,
teasing my ficuses and palms, wringing

firewood to the disappointment of my chimney,
never as now so appealing, chameleonicly
camouflaging my hoary stray cat, it has deserted
its usual spot, its hammock imbued

turning to a colourful icy sheet of material,
as I coincidentally prepare for my physics
exam on climate change, I bring
to shelter my bonsais and baobabs.
On snow covering the garden
aurora kastanias Feb 2018
A stranded auburn brittle leaf before me
surrenders to the deftly sweep of zephyr,
coriolically swirling to elevate its conquest
into an air of revolving molecules, colliding,

split by ultraviolets to recombine, ceaselessly
creating shielding layers of evanescence, rare,
delicate, perfect. All in graceful motion
synergically metamorphosing around,

immovable trees deeply rooted in fertile soils,
breathing in our toxics, exhaling our essential
inhales, growing to shade, fauna from irradiance,
that of a star wizardly shilly-shallying with water,

a silent duet, dissolving to ascend
towards the skies, finding freedom in vapours
yet unable to escape, hauled back to rain,
replenish lakes, rivers flowing a course

estuaries to lavishing blue oceans, the depths
in which cells creatively began moulding into shape,
under erumpent tides metronomes of balance
orchestrating and echoing foreplays of attraction,

to a distant enchanting moon of paleness
jealously mimicking the love affair between
Earth and Sun, the first chasing the latter
endlessly in infinite space, as it performs

revolutions around holes of darkness seduced
by its opposite in which it mirrors and identifies
mutual origins, marble games where speeds
of clustered spheres exceed a million miles an hour

where inexistent time beats the rhythm scored
by elegant laws pulling the strings to the dance
of seduction, pirouetting above our blind eyes,
power, as zephyr decides to repose

the auburn brittle leaf once more,
before me.
On nature and the Universe
aurora kastanias Feb 2018
Tick-tock the hands of the clock plock
the pendulum swings to the immutable
rhythm of hypnotic seconds measuring time,
the soundtrack to the great oeuvre that is

our life. An existence we perceive
ephemeral, thus instinctively preparing
suitcases since inception, on an earthly
sphere we interpret merely as a vestibule,

be it a pretty one awaiting to embark
on a journey to a destination unknown,
neatly folding experiences one by one,
hiding mistakes between the nethermost

layers, shameful feelings, regrettable deeds
tucked under blankets of tears, loving
sentiments nostalgically stowed as valuables
in secret pockets where fears glow.

Achievements meticulously placed in side-
compartments for easy retrieval, references
just in case, identity printed in capital letters
on a stateless passport holding the blank

ticket stretching ears to heed announcements,
last call for immediate boarding, hopefully
after blowing on candles times enough
for departure to be tolerable, desirable. Yet

the bell tolls every so often unexpectedly,
rendering the baggage of a life time instantly
redundant, while climbing the invisible ladder
naked, slowly dissolving into the ether, a rapid

transition between who we are, have been
and will be once more, pure energy melting
to recompose, metamorphosis in tune not
with the pendulum but with the mute

timeless cosmic flow encompassing all,
the solemn moment the weight suspended
from the pivot ceases to swing.
On death and beyond
aurora kastanias Feb 2018
‘How many hairs on the palm
of your hand?’ my father used to ask
waiting to note, whether I would look.

‘None!’ gullible little me would reply
as he smiled asserting the quest
was in itself indeed the first

sign of madness,
to my bittersweet disappointment.

Little would he know then, that years
later growing up I would no longer search
yet would suffer as it happens from

mental distress,
to my tortured existential struggle.

Learning to hide hints and symptoms
of derangement I would confide
only to my Self, beloved faithful ally,

thereby exhibiting the second sign
solaced by Aurora to believe it was fine
whilst enjoying the conversation.

A dialogue between the many versions
of Self unfolding, for me to discover ego
laughing to my jokes, caressing my cheeks

whispering words of soothing power,
sympathising with endeavours
clement with my limits, coaching me

to courageously strive
to surpass them.

Counting stories of imagination
which would later be written
by my hands holding fountain pens

pouring ink on mute white papers,
a life of insanity within which
reason finds its peaceful abode.

As I now look around and observe
all the sane normal people who neglect
listening and talking to themselves,

I realise that my soliloquy engenders
a unique blissful bond, whereby
the trillion pieces composing me all

interconnect soundly rooted
in essential loving accord.
On talking to self
Next page