clear night sky
among countless stars
i seek just one
where have you gone
little brother?

reaching up
to touch the stars
this distance
now between our souls
the vast expanse of space

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos

with brother
in the grave
my spirit
without him an empty shell
now roams the earth

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos

pouring out
old water
even my heart
needs catharsis
now and then

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos

behold your mother bent over with age,
who washes still your clothes over the tub,
and he whose joints now more frequent he rubs,
behold your father as your mirror gauge,
          for what he is, that also you will be,
          and how he leaves, you likewise will, so see

her old curved spine slight twisted won't deter,
the mighty worker from her daily chore,
of caring for the child-like man she bore,
for love, her duties she will not defer,
          for still she will admonish what is right,
          until she leaves your unattentive sight,

the once invincible and wise father,
now frail with muscles atrophied and weak,
persists beyond your stubborness to speak,
whose sage advice, to heed you will not bother,
          oh dear, with aging horns yet still a fawn,
          at whose feet will you sit when he is gone?

remember well your parents while they are,
while wrinkled trembling arms may still embrace,
to whisper in the ear and kiss your face,
before their mouths and ears will be too far,
          for one day you will find yourself alone,
          until your aging flesh departs from bone

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

oh hey, what's up? I'm your next interview!
What's that? Oh yeah! These are my favorite jeans,
you know the ones so comfortable, they're you,
so ripped and faded, comfort seam to seam?

No way. No wearing suits, that's not my style.
My hair? I like the messy look, why ask?
My favorite show starts in a little while.
Could we get on with this, speed up the task?

Your company? I haven't heard a thing.
Don't you guys sell, like, thrifty shoes and socks,
and bells? Oh, closing bell! The one they ring,
the floor, you're trading with the Payless Stocks!

Yeah, no. I don't know anything 'bout that.
I'm anti-corporation anyway.
But hey, you want to see my brand new tat?
I show it off at every gig we play.

I don't know spreadhseets, Word or Powerpoint,
but my new iPad's got those Angry Birds,
and I can show you how to roll a joint.
Hey, where's the bathroom? Got to drop some turds!

Aw, ****! It's out of order, you should know.
Oh sorry dude, that silent smell's a ****.
I think I'll get a mohawk, let it grow.
I'm hungry, are we done, when do I start?

This Monday? Are you kidding? Yo! High five!
Oh, wait, I'm going fishing with my girl.
How 'bout next week, whenever I arrive?
I'll celebrate my new job till I hurl!

I'm glad you like my honesty, that's fair,
to give more guys like me an equal chance.
My laid back mind's a breath of fresh new air.
and honesty's a virtue at a glance.

When I come in I'll do the best I can,
with all the missing knowledge in my head,
the many skills I'm lacking in my hand,
and all the bad production you all dread.

I'll see you when I see you Mister Boss,
I never asked your name, who gives a ****.
There's something on your lip, is that lip gloss?
Oh, wait, you're not a dude? Oh, sorry ma'am!

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

another winter's come, the trees lay bare,
mere skeletons, stiff standing, 'pon the ground,
like you, protruding from the mind, no sound,
a quiet remnant, gone, but always there,

the trees wait patiently for that one day,
when life returns to every waiting thing,
I, too, await the Day of mankind's Spring,
when you'll return from where you've gone away.

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos

that Scythe has rent my heart, i'm penetrated
the blade's removed yet its cold steel remains
our spirit's gone, our breaths remain abated

upon us both the crime's been perpetrated
and though the blade is marked with just his stains
that Scythe has rent my heart, i'm penetrated

his essence from my own's been dislocated
my life remains with only his remains
our spirit's gone, our breaths remain abated

my soul's been scraped, upon my thoughts' been grated
his blood powdered, mixed with my tears, i'm stained
that Scythe has rent my heart, i'm penetrated

and as grief's torments whip my heart striated
all joy swirls round and round a filthy drain
our spirit's gone, our breaths remain abated

i frame my memories,they're venerated
as cries repeat in minor key refrains
that Scythe has rent my heart, i'm penetrated
our spirit's gone, our breaths remain abated

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos