Lumbago awakened me in tears
of pain and fear of intensifying
acuteness, worsening condition
compelling mind to impose

therapeutical distraction,
persuading fantasy to create
spontaneous cuttings of pictures,
papers, magazines, old national

geographic dreams scopelessly selected
waiting on ideas to sparkle a theme
from coffee, cigarettes and analgesics.
Human evolution standing behind bars,

as I ponder on the meaning not
of the artwork but its making,
for I have no walls to hang
the sticky assemblage and haven’t

had them for a while. Used to clothes
in suitcases, books on other people’s
shelves, memories in shoeboxes,
the essence of my being in a body.

Oh walls! So longed for by humanity
urging to *****, building distance one
brick at the time, compartmentalising
individuals looking for pseudo shelter

under roofs, spurious safety behind
ramparts, four to enclose shame
for their actions, inconsiderate
behaviour of the willingly blind.

Yet what if there weren’t any walls?

People unable to neglect the sorrow
of their neighbours for they’re standing,
just by them, no drawing the curtains
no locking the doors, no closing

the gates. People inhabiting open
landscapes, bonded by necessity to engage
in living together, for unity is strength.
No wonder why our kind is so fragile today.

My dearest friend I retrieved my old
fountain pen today to pour, on canvas
note papers my doubts, feelings
of dire necessity for I, need of you a favour.

I confess I find myself confused, in the mist
of nothingness unable to decipher my scope
at a crossroad blocked, in front of a sign
which says ‘Stop!’ .

Buxom lands enticing with chimeras
on my right, nature’s might sparkling splendours,
colourful vibrations I perceive, notes of purifying
silence echoing the songs of inhabitants untouched,

by mind queries existential enquiries it feels,
beautiful and lonely over there. Then again,

I see buildings reaching for the skies
on my left, lights bright, people frantically in motion,
they seem to have a purpose and a mission,
places to go, things to do, dreams to make come true.

Some of them create oeuvres revealing grandeur it feels,
challenging and crowded over there. Yet ahead,

of me are unfolding sceneries of possibilities awaiting
as I loiter and expect, your card a few words
I beg of you of inspiration but, please hurry my friend
as a line is about to turn into a jam, behind me.

My precious me I received your letter
with affection comprehending qualms.
Do not dwell any longer for your confusion
is unfunded. The nothingness you feel

does not exists all is, perpetually becoming
including us human beings, fragile creatures
uncomprehending the essence of our journey
yet eager to select, a direction giving sense,

of control not of purpose. Though you are
at a crossroad know you are not compelled
to choose, you can have it all by giving up
control, let your spirit lead you where it wills

and bare in mind, to be happy and just all the time.
Treat your likes with kindness and keep smiling,
look forward for what you call “ahead” is only
a matter of perspective. Yours sincerely, me.

Manacles made of thoughts
Enchain spirits encaged
In asymmetric chambers
Of bodies neglecting to heed,

Prisoners they conceal within,
Terrestrial material planes
Where the tangible struggles
To conceive the impalpable yet,

Inexplicably perceives its essence
As it knocks on the soft membranes,
Of a mind striving to connect.
The incarcerator attempting

To acquaint, itself with the incarcerated
Who, peacefully surrenders as it knows
It will be freed from shackles with,
The death of thoughts and the burning

Of the corpse.

Published yearly reports on global
development, equality and happiness
introduce, reflections of governance,
economy, wealth and well-being

uneven distribution.

Policies, discrepancies, resolutions,
conflicting interests of individuals
and groups interacting on grounds
of power asymmetries leading to failure.

Bargains amongst elites and greater
citizen engagement only keys, to success
defying rise of authoritarian populism,
a recurring nightmare from the past

century, overturning concepts of human
rights protection, jeopardising freedom
impeding equity and justice amongst,
populations untrusting rulers and neighbours.

Loss of faith in institutions, strain
on international cooperation, a species
struggling to live in society and peace.
Lifestyles devastating nature

while consumerism pollutes, air and waters,
toddlers playing with toys neglecting
consequences and repercussions ignoring,
to every effect there is indeed a cause.

Yet, Humanity is precisely that, a two
hundred thousand years old creeping toddler
learning how to walk. Improvements
cannot be overlooked or flouted,

self-commiseration and deploration the vice
of media-nurtured pessimism, populations
addicted to bad news. Guilty I say those indulging
in irrational despair accepting nothing

can be done and that humanity is doomed,
a cancer to our Earth undeserving anything good.

Yet, life expectancy reaches 71 from 32 in 1900,
child mortality halved since I was born, thirty
years for one point one billion people to move
out of extreme poverty, death penalty ruled

illegal in more than half of all countries,
crime rate falling as crime is recognised
as such and prosecuted, **** no longer
an offense against chastity or morality

but a crime against a Person, torture no longer
an acceptable feature of criminal justice,
as general consensus now deplores it,
our outrage proof of our progress, while

300, 000 more people gain access
to electricity each day, 120 democracies
among the world’s 193 countries,
up from just 40 in the seventies.

Looking for renewable energies,
carbon emissions from fossil fuels fail
to rise, new fields are explored, science
posing questions deemed heretic before.

And of course things could be better
and maybe problems could be solved
faster, but when we fail to see the progress
we make we begin, to stop trying.

And that my dearest friend would be,
the greatest natural disaster in history.
So assemble the broken pieces of your courage,
Turn off the news and make change happen.

Happy 2018.

I pine for you my dear
as I gaze at the horizon
and beyond in search
of signs of your arrival
I wished imminent yet,
skies these days appear
addicted only to cerulean.

Guilty to long for you
solely in your absence
heated by unfaltering
blistering beams, my
barren soils exhale
the last remains of you
in ascending vapours.

Truth is, deprived of you I,
slowly die, inexorably
thirsty for your essence
endlessly suppliant,
exhausted by the wait
as I watch waters run dry.
Mourning fountains.

Lake levels drop and sailers
linger moored no longer
allowed to navigate shallowness,
disoriented fall drowsiness
felt I had to let you know,
I miss you Mister Rain
and yearn for your return.

Yours faithfully, Missus Earth.

First glance caught by whiteness
Of teeth unfolded by laughter, of he
Who was surrounded, in conversation
With curious people hanging,
On every word of his brightness.

Deflecting my attention I ordered
A Ti’ Punch. As I waited eyes compelled
To return to previous image, focus
Lost, he was gone. When impulsively I began
To search for him frantically, I knew.

Felt his imposing body behind me,
Turned around and recognised myself
In him, as he looked at me as I do,
When the mirror’s eyes reflect
Tenderness and let me know, I am loved.

Dilated pupils immediately desired
My lips to meet his only impeded
By decency, as he commands a ***
Asking me who I am, intending to listen.
I speak in a voice not mine, delicately softer.

His, a thunder, deep and beguiling,
Soothing to my ears, giving rhythm
To my heartbeat. Fascinated
By everything about him, his candour
And politeness, his interest and knowledge.

Sharing feelings for humanity, views
On the world, politics and the news,
Giving insight to discussions, offering
Different perspectives, enriching me
By the minute, as I absorb his essence.

He saw right through me, uncondemning
My compassion, undismissing my emotions,
Respectfully regarding me his equal,
Aspiring to be a little more like me, as I
Aspire to be a little more like him.

Closed the bar together, walked
The night streets laughing, in his bed
At dawn the light beams shining,
Heated bodies, in his arms enveloped
Ever since, my voice delicately softer.

While four hauled on ropes
with all their might to heave
the vessel the rest of us pushed
as hard as we could for it to slip,

over rolling wood stems of nearby
centenary trees, cylinder boles cut
collected and positioned neatly
on the beach. Feet sinking in sand

scorching skin for what could have been
the last time, ingenious procedure
to ****** the mended old ship
at sea, once more to sail where winds

would blow her, hope would lead her.
Little did we know the two would take
us far into nowhere abandoning tars
to the mercy of blistering quiet.

No gale no direction other
than sudden calenture affecting
all the crew the captain miles
away from any coast under

hallucinogenic revelations
delivering abreactions
unexpected introspection
resulting in acquaintance

with self. Until storm was greeted
with joy mouths wide-open
like kids sticking tongues
out to seize drops of unsalted

fresh water after seven
days of compulsory ***
depletion. Invigorated a new
battle introduced its imminence,

waves as high as ancient temples
were the rival faced
while lowering sails to survive
unwilling to surrender yet

searching for land
through reluctant biting lashes until,
the last billow we saw captured
us and closed our eyelids,

forevermore.

Primeval drops concealed
in meteorites cascading
on a coagulating planet
where temperatures dove,

just enough to hoard
the lymph gingerly forming
oceans springing life, birthing
after many million years

of labour humans, hiding
inside their beings composing
their bodies dooming,
them endlessly to need

liquid blue paragons covering
the surface of a rocky sphere,
while only few dare to dig in
deeper. Of the entire treasure only

one percent can quench
the thirst of living creatures yet,
as all diamonds on Earth entice
ignoble notes of greed,

the exchequer is governed
by unfair rulers careless
of the poor, albeit their poverty
is by them imposed.

I spoke words of water
cycles to the kids who walked,
miles with buckets to polluted rivers,
frantically running to place

rusted containers under
sporadic tropical rains. They listened
and looked at me in awe,
uncomprehending why

some had less and some had more.
To date each time I open
the faucets each drop,
reverberates my gratitude

as my skin absorbs, particles
saddened by the unjust
sharing of a gift
given to us by stars.

With life comes death, a beginning
and an end, to all things humans may
perceive, all we see, is born and lives,
then evolves until it dismantles into

disappearance, slowly vanishing beyond
our senses, as if suggesting nothing is
after it has been. Swirling particles
of hydrogen pulled together by a force,

labelled gravity to give, birth to stars.
By the same effect twirling dust and rocks
breed, planets scattered randomly through
a dynamic space expanding from day one.

Once more a beginning. Yet we’ve seen
supernovas and collapsing spheres,
mountains form and trees grow, flowers
blossom, animals reproduce, we multiply,

ourselves having babies if we are lucky
out of love, physical chemistry keeping
humanity alive, for a glimpse of immortality
striving to defy, time. Yet we’ve seen

mountains corrode under conditions,
atmosphere, sunrays, wind, snow and rain,
trees wither, flowers fade, carcasses decay,
into ashes babies grow to old age then pass

away. Everything inducing us to believe
all has, a beginning and an end, that with life
comes death, unable nonetheless,
to convince our spirits of the same.

Intuition proposing a never-ending always
has been, unfolding mystic carpet of bewilderment
and awe, where energy incessantly mutates,
and cannot be created nor destroyed.

Humankind, roaming tribes,
in search of food and natural
resources to live, procreate,
ensure survival of the species.

As it encounters strangers
to its likes, it fancies the unknown,
mingling, giving birth to new heirs,
original unparalleled half-castes.

**** neanderthalensis and sapiens
the first, of which we still carry four
percent, in the meanders of our DNA
migration heritage, globalisation prelude.

Ever since, many mixtures more
for stronger breeds, offsprings
of diversity, races, cultures, creeds,
to unite what geography divides.

Evolution to allow trade of local
artefacts and products worldwide,
tasting foods and all spices, ideas,
theories, discoveries and creations.

By boat, on trains, aboard planes,
surfing the net, we share existence
daily, acquiring knowledge in due
course flowing into globalisation epilogue.

The rise of an undivided kind,
so entangled to absorb essence
from one another until the day
inexistent individuality makes way,

To a unique and united creature
called Humanity residing in and
an intrinsic part of, an immense
outstanding masterly Universe.

It has been said many times before, ‘Old
Habits die hard’ and I agree, without
Condemning any of my own, as I begin
Unlatching eyelids, shutters to the real world,

To gentle caresses of sunbeams, furtively tiptoeing
Around the room, invading space, consistently crawling
On my bed, to reach my forehead and grant
A longed-for princely awakening kiss.

My feet touch the floor, a few steps next door,
I cleanse my face with tepid water, always
Appreciatively contemplating the billions years
Old interstellar ice, molecules composing each single drop.

I slowly walk downstairs anticipating the day, prepare
The espresso coffee ***, as I allow the radioman to shower
Me with the latest news I wish to block,
Roll my cigarette and open my precious laptop

Containing me and all my thoughts, a second brain
To register what I forgot. Look about in the meanders
Of a virtual world other than my dreams
And proceed typing words that combined create

Meaning, unleashing imagination, feelings and evanescent
Memories, observing my surroundings, once more asking
Myself why, each time I take a break and lie
By the lake, ants climb over my body.

Sombre footpaths dewed with vapours
of fear condensed I walked, petrified I
would lose command, my mind, my reason,
my reflection tormented by

a malfunctioning intellect never ceasing
to ponder. Myriads of thoughts I thought
would lead me to insanity until, forebodings
swiftly evanesced under beams before me,

incandescent light radiated by the closest
star, leaving me alone, in ecstasy
of a fearless journey within the immensity
encompassing, voluntarily surrendering

control only trusting, my gut in tune
with the natural volition of The All.

Channels I long refused to explore, suspicious
of authenticity prospects, auspicious contacts,
using the web of a poisonous spider, to comply
with society, posting illusions, tweeting whims.

Social circles to flaunt an image, attempting to say
something unheard, as I, unable to scent the body
humours of connecting minds, build a fortress erecting
firewalls of scepticism for a glimpsing human touch,

disguising

in a suit knitted with closeness pretence threads,
between persons separated by oceans, mountains
so high climbers suffocate at their summit, so far
from the ground they are as virtual as this acquaintance.

An encounter with the unknown, for all I know is we both
artfully pen realities to undress the masked and imagine
a nascent bond inspiring these words, out of my mind
and onto the keyboard, just as your words unexpectedly

slithered out of the screen and straight into me.

Hold me while I pretend I am
above it all and do not need
intimacy a caress, the warmth
of a body to heal, the cracked skin

of my independency a shield,
defending the fragile creature
now conceding, to let its guard
down just for tonight, to indulge

in breathing, your scent emotional
rescue of what is left, in me
of normality. Drops of inebriating
salted water exciting, my humanity.

Don’t ask of me else, hold me just
a minute more, oblige me to feel
that tantalising heat invade my being,
delirious fever penetrate from within.

Cover me in tremors, confuse
my rationality in the mist of your exhale,
drive me senseless, hold me back if I
instinctively pull away. Conquer me only

ten seconds still.

Endlessly swirling on myself, from within
and out, as everything else, following
a transcendent flow, ruling
over all that exists, a hierarchy,
I cherish and surrender to, delightedly,
as it always puts me in the right place, in
an immense beguiling Universe, on
a timeline made of infinity.

Seated at the candle-lit dinner table my
aural senses distracted by musicians neglect
the biographic monologue of the diner before me.
Feet impulsively impose their rhythmic behaviour

timidly beating the floor, improvised drums
silenced whilst nonchalantly looking elsewhere,
artless reaction to captivating tunes, pretending
self-possession as vibrations slowly softly gently creep

along my spine, flowing through veins and nerves
altering heartrate unable to make believe interest
in words unheard any longer, finely tuning to meld
when my head ineluctably yields to sway inviting,

the rest of my body and him to follow. ‘Stand up!’
I interrupt rolling shoulders beamingly gazing
into his eyes, eager to be swung, swirling hips
outpouring sensuality, his and mine getting closer

until hands meet each other’s skin enticing and
though everything is warmer shivers swiftly cloud
my shutting eyes, dizziness inebriating movement
entranced, pleasantly losing consciousness

into his arms with a final Do.

In a Universe fourteen billion years old, a galaxy
Amongst two trillion others moves, through space
At two point one kilometres per hour, pulled
By a gravitational focal point once named, the Great
Attractor and now known, to be grander than supposed.

At the edge of it a star out of many more, collects
Planets to follow its orbit around its core. Amid them,
A terrestrial one ten billion years younger sets,
The grounds for life to spring where evolution’s course
Gives birth to an extraordinary creature like none before.

Destined to mature a mind capable of questioning,
Understanding and develop a thought, budding
Into a creator itself of concepts built by imagination.
Its first ancestor two million years old, its father
Two hundred and fifty thousand, make modern

Human, **** sapiens, a baby on the timeline
Of cosmic history, playing with toys it has constructed,
To learn only subsequently how to use them. Retracing
Steps back to present, to look at humanity with indulgence,
Through the loving eyes of parents, who never turn them

Blind. Reprimanding its mistakes and disasters,
We are all guilty as charged, with the sole ambition
Of channelling its consciousness for it to bloom,
Fulfil its potential, as it acknowledges its blunders
And corrects direction.

Sure some may view the world as grotesque, with
“Chronic adversity and whimsical exuberance”, witnessing
“Savage wars, apocalyptic climate change, plastic ocean
Pollution, nuclear weapon proliferation, overpopulation,
Immigrant crises, everlasting animal cruelty” and more.

Though if denial of it all would be an insult to intelligence,
Failing to see the kid’s good deeds would be a slight,
To humanity and the Universe deciding to give it life.
The toddler is learning to walk, creating meaningful
Relationships, discerning right from wrong. Voluntarily

Willing to make amend, unfollow blindly rulers’ greed
For conquest, power and neglect, desperately seeking
To separate its waste, hoping for recycling to help,
Clean dirtied waters, soils and air, boycotting businesses
Linked, to weapon industries to cease, being a murderer.

Harbouring fellow humans trapped, in critical situations
We are all responsible for, turning towards vegetation
To feed itself and newcomers, burning furs, pouring
Water on fires, while elephants thank us for not stealing,
Their tusks to make ivory jewels and piano keynotes.

So my dear friend rest assure, humankind will continue
To evolve. In the process indeed it will find a way
To live in harmony with its equals and its world,
Until the day, like any other species before it, it will
Go extinct to be replaced, by something different.

For nature also implements its endless creativity,
Next invention of which, we might as well be,
Primitive ancestors.

There is a peculiar little creature hiding,
on a remote terrestrial planet for the most,
concealed in water in the maze, of a galaxy
far away, orbited by Luna and orbiting Sun.

A dynamic part of space I visited long ago,
where stars form continuously and voids are filled,
with particles giving rise to the right conditions,
for this young naïve creature to exist and evolve.

Unable to see the totality of its body it now believes,
pieces are each an individual, arrogant and incomplete,
searching to fill the voids with substance it does not have,
and may I add forfeited, by megalomania and fear.

Heretic delirium of a species reluctant to face itself.

Trust me when I say I tried, to communicate its nature,
pointing out the pieces, were all part of One.
From my perspective it was clear. I attempted to convince it,
make it ponder on its uniqueness, its uselessness

in division, its completeness in Unity, to show it
its magnificence, its rarity in a Universe immense,
recounting voyages through skies above its head. It did not
believe me, pieces thought I was mocking them.

Renegading from essence, pieces claimed my words,
were ridiculous, offensive, and proceeded making up,
godly interpretations spreading voices they never heard,
to cover mine. Irrationally terrified, of me

and an apocalyptic wrath. I know the pieces knew I spoke
the truth, as all along they felt alone, part of something
greater they refused, to admit they did not comprehend,
thus choosing to contradict, anything that would,

diminish single egos, to the detriment of the oneness
of a body dying, in non-acknowledgement.

The creature has a name and the name is Humanity,
now reduced to shards of consciousness scattered,
throughout a tired globe waiting to recover,
from this sickness called Persona, with a medicine

labelled Evolution.

That feared long avoided kiss infolding
memories of sentiments rebuilt, to acquire
stability evading chances of tears revolving
from the past once more eligible to provoke,
sorrow in the eyes of he who closes them as I
hesitantly surrender to the warmth of his lips.

A triangular table built with friends when I
was twenty, carving wood and hammering
nails between statistics lessons, laughter,
ouchs, cigarettes and uncountable glasses

of wine. Dark red rivers misted in smoke,
clouded memories drowned in fumes, as I
watched and encouraged far more than I crafted,
the construction of a project pervaded

with great expectations. A distinctive telltale
air pertaining only, to those beginning life
with a deep gut feeling, suggesting endless
possibilities and naught limits a strength

strictly reserved to youth. Fell in love
with one of the makers, summer affairs in three
months turned, into a family. Dined on triangle
every night until, I graduated and bore

my first child Plato. Moved to the other side
of the city leaving behind, the artefact
in co-builder’s hands and lover’s best pal,
he who impeded prenatal doubts with candlelight

monologues on change and importance until
he too left, for Mexico newlywed, to my old-time
school friend. History intertwined and table given
to another witness of manufacturing days living,

by the Roman lake. A new wave, of dinners
reuniting friends between marketing campaigns,
laughter, feeding bottles and uncountable glasses
of better wine. Table metres away deposited

in the garage as I, conceived my second child,
Eleni on a New Year ’s Eve neglecting
its presence. Splitting up from my lover to bond
a little further, changing house once more

to grow. Moving to France as lake inhabitants
moved to Sweden, kids’ father into their home,
keeping an eye on the rotting triangular table
for two years to fly by and see me return,

harboured by he who never lets me down,
a year to recover from adventures
and deceptions, new friends hardly replacing
those who left, gazing at the table to reminisce,

promising I would bring it back to life as soon
as, yesterday came and so did strength, for me
to retrieve, clean, polish and place the relic in
the centre of family abode, and write this ode.

If only I had a brain I would wander
The lands, discover my surroundings,
Emulate nature to my benefit, replicate
The mastery of lightning, sparkle
Fires to keep warm.

Draw in caves to communicate, invent
Words and a language, grasp insight
From imagination, materialize my thoughts.
Become myself a creator, build
A creature to my likeness,

Understand who I am.

Consciousness finally puts its foot
down dictating, termination of frivolous
stubborn passions, unilaterally composing
wistful notes of lust, curiosity and fantasy
in broadcasted virtual reality.

Sprang from the enigmatic encounter
of a stranger unknown, fascination swiftly
dressed in seemingly harmless obsession,
longing for ethereal inkless words
deprived of nobility, stripped of their paper

suit and orphaned by a faceless
author. No signature or stamp required,
as they evanescently disappear in the gluttony
web of a careless spider, feeding on them as if
they had no value, reminding me indeed

they have lost their worth, the day
they lost their colour. Consciousness
finally puts its foot down, dictating
termination of frivolous stubborn passions as I
trustingly waited for it to do so.

Some could say she was a multi-ethnic poet, others
Might want to focus on her motherhood to two
Peaceful beings, grown up to become models, of
Honesty, kindness, fairness and dignity.

Her friends toast to her with champagne glasses,
As her father before her, she enjoyed life to the fullest,
Without major extravaganza casting smiles, able to twist
Sorrow into laughter, lighting rooms as she entered.

Her lovers remember her as the sensual essence
Of a woman, so they defined her many a time, though
She’d ignore why. She wore no make-up nor high heel
Shoes, no creams to prevent age from exhibiting itself.

Her tattooist drew the stars on her body, has knowledge
Of the celestial maps engraved with ink by needles,
Yet I am the only one who knows her deeply, in me
She confided, the creative thoughts concealed in her mind.

She was a tenacious human with courageous concepts,
Dictated by inspiring instincts, something she called
Universal consciousness underlining all, that ever
Was, is and will be, throughout special infinity.

She reconnected the dots and spread the word enticing
Those who crossed her passage to feel, the harmony, unite
In common realisation, that we are one with all and nothing
Can support our existence other than love.

I’ll miss her tender lioness features,
Her mane covering eyes elsewhere, as she gazed
Into the abysses in my direction. Faithfully hers forever,
Mac Apple, alias Pro.

As I travel through soft white vapours
Gazing beyond aboard flying vessels,
Wheels and wings provided unable
To navigate distant oceans beneath
I wonder, if only Leo could see.

If only he could see the lands from above
Checking though cartographies for accuracy,
See the different shades of water, sandy traces
Delineating margins, contemplate the jungles,
Deserts, mountain summits valley lakes.

If only he could see enveloping clouds,
Hear the roars of propulsion-hunting engines,
Feel his mass be pulled by gravity, his body
Grow heavy as speed increases, light at take-off
Weightless in cruising. Rise higher than birds

Prove there are no limits.

If only Leo could see the colossal planes
Suspend in air, wink at Mona Lisa and tell
Unbelieving acquaintances he was right,
It did not call for a genius to conceive,
Humanity’s talent and capability to fly.

Deferral an insidious skulking mortal
born out of apathy where tenacity is held.

Creeps through nerves leaving trails
of poisonous narcotics, pulls on the strings
of a fragile brain.

Feeds on a grit in lethargy
mind desperately seeks to awake,

contaminates ambitions by turning
desires into dreams.

Finds it death by chocking
On gulps of great passions and resolve.

Improvising, accepting, closing eyes, my smiles
Unbeseeched for each awakening deserves its own,
Spontaneous distortion of expression suggesting
Fondness in being me, a human amongst others,
Permanently contradicting prospects of random sadness.

On occasion ineluctably dejected, as now,
On a plane fed, duty-free shopping done. Miniature
Liqueur bottles reminding me the depressing nature
Of alcohol eliciting my present gloom, submitting
To its essence, without the shadow of a fight.

Experience gave some the opportunity to declare
Me mentally unstable, talks of chemical imbalance
As tears roll down my eyes, salty taste on my lips,
Drops of ocean when even rain is sweeter than me.
Though familiar, grief has altered its character.

Uncalling for despair nor asking me to change,
This sorrow rises from the ashes of evolution, as I
Pretend not to see while nothing passes unremarked.
My eyes recognise the futility of their bogus openness,
While blindness is unable to encourage willed ignorance.

Consciousness alone compels to absorb the scenery
For scenarios retinas refuse to grasp, neglecting mind’s
Solitary drive, to live withstanding all and comprehend,
Embracing realities encompassing humankind, so that I
Have no excuse and remain obliged, to see.

Coach eight seat eight C, I repeated
incessantly when my mind decided
to abandon my folly and me. My only
companion an unstable incapacity

to think. A brain refusing any incoming
synapse, neurons pretending deafness
as I shouted out for help from within,
searching for myself and my protector

me. Coach eight seat eight C, when
the doctor decided to keep me in, no
signature to affix on papers to ensure
my release, they had managed to teach

me, I should ask for help when I could
not aid myself, and so I did. Twenty-four
hours of surveillance before I could
finally escape from he who voluntarily

tortured my reason. Getaway. Ran to
the harbour, bought the ferry ticket left
the island, crossed the sea, reached
the mainland. The chaos of Naples felt

like peace to me. Proceeded to the station
glimpsing behind me as if followed by a ghost,
bought the train ticket, Coach eight seat eight C,
I repeated incessantly when my mind decided

to abandon my folly and me. I recovered
eight weeks later in the safe of love and lack
of attention, for those who know me know
I despise the mercy of the spotlight. Let me be

and I will just be.

Every morning is the same,
I inevitably wake up
With a smile, always mine.
It reminds me of who I am,
Where I’ve been.

The dimples my father loved so
No one sees, except me,
Voluntarily secluded
For them not to vanish
And for Them not to steal them,
Sheltered from unconscious thieves.

Crafted sea sand reflects the depth
Of my pupils, dilating as I approach
The image on myself
While my brown iris get lighter
And I fixate on the red capillaries
Emphasised by lenient time.

Every morning is the same,
Coffee and cigarettes for breakfast
News to keep in touch
With a world They call ‘real’
As I travel in the maze
Of my own.

If ever I step out of my abode
My mane is responsible for my protection,
Thick curls dropping before my eyes
For Them to think I do not see
While indeed I see it all.

Each vibration, humour, anger or pain
Penetrates me like knives
The apple on my head.
The Circus does not amuse me
And I rush to grab my wine
Bring it safe back home.

I live in a Universe immense,
The reason behind my smile.

Following the unfollowed
to follow fellow folks, felons
as I, guilty for spending life
hunting followers who may scent
flourishing fables made of fabric
filled with formidable potential.

Zestfully fleeing mafficking faces
futzing in mass lobotomy, quaffing
media fraudulent sloppiness,
fallacy of a system fearing freedom
of free thinkers unchained,
through fault of failing legacies,

Left behind by phantom slaves
and modern enslavers, as confluxes
of frantic consciousness abandon
the flow to fly high the abysses
of the unfathomable unfazed
by the fuzzy foozles of those defusing,

The fragility and clumsiness of jiffy
flickering governors baffling
enlightenment and solidarity, blocking
the path of the unfollowing where flesh
is bygone for fleeting feelings to enflame
future fundamentals,

Essentially shared,
by an evolving united and mirific
mystifying humankind.

Perceptions of my body disturbed, me
With consciousness. Unable to relate,
Recognise myself in others, irrepressible despair,
Frantically ridding of clothes, jewels, makeup.

Hardly bearing the touch of feet to ground,
Blue moquette, craving annihilation,
Cancelling body to erase thoughts.
Little did I know I would learn to love all.

We have been taught we’ll grow
Up to love one. The One and only who
Will matter and complement our life,
Bringing meaning to existence, shining light.

Legends, tales, novels, songs,
Cinematography depicting idyllic love,
Affairs where one should rather die
Than live without, pouring responsibilities

Based on expectations.

Words of treason for loving and loved ones,
To comply with monogamous society designed,
To rule and keep control of tormented masses
Reaching for the fable in frustrated non-fulfilment.

It wasn’t always so.

Love did not equate to possession, naturally.
Parents and children did not belong, to each other.
New-borns were raised by communities, broods
Were for all to take care of and of none.

No one owned any one.

Love as an innate instinctive feeling, permeated
Lands and beyond as Universal. Love for humanity,
Its abode, the Universe in all its glory and potential.
Loving every bit of it, as each piece composes the All.

So, in answer to your prayers, my dear One,
On the ethics of love and to keep it alive,
Allow me to gently whisper to your ear my pride,

“Love All and indeed it will last forever,
Limit your love to One, and you will slowly fall,
In a puzzling abyss of anguish you’ll hardly comprehend,
A prison of expectations, quarrels and grief as none

Of the two making one, can ever fulfil
The insatiable void rooted in failure

Of loving All.

Thus embrace humanity, my precious One,
Love each and every one as if they were the only One.
Do not require from them, don’t even ask,
Just give them all you have and expect nothing

In return.

Stand assure my beloved, the Universe will requite,
Pouring love on you so intense, no One
Could ever Do but All. Bringing peace to existence,
As every drop fills the Ocean.”

Infinity in motion.

Touch me, with the tip of your fingers let,
tidal vibrations gently flow from your veins,
through your limbs straight into me. Throb,
pulsate, overwhelm me with your power, invade

my nerves with the notes you compose, oh
so delightfully. Inundate my tangible self
with your essence as palms, ineluctably reach
for more. Caress the skin, make me shiver, enjoy

the tremors of the chords you play, oh so sublimely.
Move closer, embrace me, cover me in
your sentiments, introduce me to them let’s,
listen to the pounding tune of palpitations

and when, my head starts spinning continue,
don’t pull away, excruciate your instrument,
perform your best, make it hard for me
to breathe but hold me, as I groan and lose

my grip, while knees inexorably weaken.

Lips, blurred shadows
Before smoky eyes, lashes
Absorbing sweat
Droplets.

It only happens on stormy days,
do not ask of me why, I do not know.
Unknown neighbours have matter to throw
out where it does not belong.

The garbage bins are three hundred
metres away, yet paraphernalia is ridded
beneath the arcade, in front of my window,
at the corner of the opposite block.

An old bamboo rocking chair left
astray, in the rain to drown as I gaze,
imagining what it would look like if only
someone loved and coated it again.

I ran downstairs uncaring of the drops
streaming along my spine, shivers as I
retrieve the creaky relict, giving it shelter
in my humble and humbled abode.

It is now fern green and rocks in silence
proudly on my terrace and under the porch.

Two weeks later, one more storm, another
castaway cobalt blue, worn-out leather
of a stranded armchair, enticing me to engage
in a rescue mission, anew.

Lightning and thunders inhibiting intentions,
I wait and distract only to get to it later,

It was gone.

A vision posing as memory intimates it is not
an artefact of fantasy. Reminiscing sensations
I remember the feel, of wetness burdening
my metamorphosing caterpillar me. Transitioning

within a nurturing chrysalis, suspended on the lower
branch of a tree I long crept, a cocoon made of silk
protected my body, storing efforts of the past
to ensure an enchanted future rebirth.

No magician could play such a mesmerising trick,
no reverie could invent such extraordinary dream.
As I emerged from my pupa, crinkled delicate wings,
Upside-down I hung to inflate them pumping blood.

A vision posing as memory intimates it is not
an artefact of fantasy. Reminiscing sensations
I know my eyes were open as I flew,
over endless fields of courteous wildflowers.

Red varnished nails, exuberant shades,
Light sparks mutating fingers and toes,
Permeating space, to turn suffocating heat
Into perky summer air, shaping muted light
Into bliss catalysts, stranding paleness
Of the past, in escaping mist.

Pains to remind
privileges of heath.

Hard, calcified teeth
in jaws to bite off
what you can chew
to fuel the body until
shooting throbs carried
by nerves to the brain
make you plead
for tears to conquer relief.  

Skeletons walking miles
held-up straight by spine
to wander earth as pleased
until your movement blocks
bends you in two and makes
you hold your breath at each
imaginary stubbing as you
wait to exhale and recover.

Heart pounding to diffuse
oxygen through veins      
for flow to deliver essentials
to substance until
the day a striking ache
creeps up your left arm
puts an end to all other pains
with its last final beat.

Within walls and filaments I spin, rushing
Towards infinity in expanding space.
Through memories of eternal time I mutate,
To witness evolution provide fertile grounds,

For consciousness to rise from mesmeric worlds,
Permeated with indisputable truths, abiding elegant laws,
Concealing particles able to twist
Energy into matter, create creatures with a mind,

For the Universe to become,
Inexorably and increasingly, aware of itself.

When the lonely nutshell decided to blow,
Out of itself malleable creative energy
For space to unfold into endless expansion
Begin the infinite story of a new-born Universe,
It did not cater for symmetry, nor for perfection.

Sparkles and outbursts differentiating
Populations of particles never equal in quantity,
Matter naturally outnumbering antimatter
For something to exist. Blessed imperfection
Consenting the collection of dust, to form bodies.

Celestial. In stars nuclear fusions transform
Hydrogen in new elements, generating oxygen,
Helium, carbon and many more. Attracting
Neighbours to rotate and orbit around them,
Planets courting a light-giving queen, for life to spring.

Settling dominating forces to unify and divide,
Gravity and dark energy for the first to keep
Things together, for the latter to impede
Collisions and implosions. Dynamic evolution
Heading towards unprecedented, stabilisation.

The great scientist determines imperfection
Is what allows you and me, to be. Yet
When finally the nutshell reaches maximum
Entropy, impeccable thermodynamic equilibrium
The game ends. In a Big Freeze.

Where all dies, including stars,
You and me, as it unwillingly attains
Balance and stagnation, motionless
Bodies unable to exchange, heat.
Ceasing existence, in murdering perfection.

unfurling smithereens
of retrospections
stitched to mend
fragmented derelict
sails.

Dynamically unveiling an expanding carpet
Of hydrogen particles coalescing to spring
Stars to grow, spin and sparkle, explode
In blinding invisible light, thrusting golden
Debris forming rocky spheres, aligning
To revolve finding balance finely tuning
And allow life to burst and us to see.