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Christos Rigakos May 2012
i wax nostalgic as I pull my hair,
as they have always come, again they're here,
my friends, they sit like corpses and they stare,

lamenting how my life's been most unfair,
while quivering and lapping up my tears,
i wax nostalgic as I pull my hair,

and as the follicles from skin I tear,
they hush their tongues, in silence lend their ears,
my friends, they sit like corpses and they stare,

how long have two lone brothers been a pair?
how much was shared between two hearts most near?
i wax nostalgic as I pull my hair,

yet how much can these friends of mine more bear?
i've burdened them with pity year by year,
my friends, they sit like corpses and they stare,

fatigued of me, yet one day more they dare,
to sit with me, for one more tale to hear,
i wax nostalgic as I pull my hair,
my friends, they sit like corpses and they stare

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos
Villanelle
Christos Rigakos May 2012
If I should pass away before you do,
knowing your heart is free to love again,
the torment of that thought would carry through
the grave to life beyond my mortal end.

If you should pass away before my eyes,
knowing my life is void of your sweet love,
my life would be but death in life's disguise,
spent seeking you in empty skies above.

'Tis best if our eternal love had life
eternal, spent eternally in birth,
or that neither your husband nor my wife
should know a moment spent alone on Earth.

Life's but a fleeting moment winding fast,
that we should spend as if it were our last.

(C)2006, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
May 2012 · 594
if you had died
Christos Rigakos May 2012
if you had died
i could have kept your love
and bronzed your memory
like little baby booties on
the mantle over the fireplace

instead you lived
and ran with love away
and left me with an urn
the ashes of your love
whose form i can't discern


(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
May 2012 · 1.7k
my eyes like puppy dogs
Christos Rigakos May 2012
my eyes
like puppy dogs
follow you everywhere
happily hopping
tongues hanging
tails wagging
my eyes are yours
and you walk them
on a leash.


(C)2000, Christos Rigakos
Christos Rigakos May 2012
We're strapped into our seats upon this boat,
the vessel of the journey of our days,
and steady 'pon the Grand River we float,
that would we, we could not deter its way.

The children whine, this journey never ends,
adults see where they've been and where they go,
The elderly, prepared to leave, pretend,
yet wish the ride to stutter and to slow.

The journey's one, though it be mine or thine,
though when it starts, the start is all we know,
the more we've traveled, less we have of time,
and wish we had some more before we go.

But God has granted me to be this wise:
that I should spend my journey in your eyes.

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
straight through my spine the desert winds blow flute,
before my burial under the sand,
my skull an empty can, whistle and hoot,
my ribs a xylophone, femur in hand,

the dissonant cacophany--my taps,
a song for funerals devoid of men,
the vultures took my flesh in neat-sized scraps,
efficiently disposed in nature's den,

oh, once a garden, lush with greenery,
our love, abandoned by my rib's dear Eve,
now with her heart removed, the scenery
decayed, and to the burning sand i cleave,

my covering completes with eve's new dusk,
out of her sight, this old forgotten husk

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
my daily regimen, focused, intense,
a pugilistic kata of the tongue,
in preparation for our oral fence,
run laps around ideas, expand lungs,

my visualization of that day--
we spar with strikes and parries, counterstrikes,
in reasonings' most ****** kumite,
my verbal knuckles down her oral pikes,

so armed with good reasons to reconcile,
arriving at the place where she should be,
she proves to be so much more versatile
absent, my wasted versatility,

i cannot win with passion or with rage,
a lover's heart which simply won't engage

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
he lays upon a hammock in the garden,
to watch the sun slow travel 'cross the sky,
weighed down by love long gone, profanely ardent,
apollo's fiery chariot drags his eye,

and when the sun god's sunk into the bay,
the glow of hope for her return now cooled,
his eyes then close upon the fruitless day,
his prayers to apollo overruled,

in dreams, there hades beckons him to come,
a room has been prepared that he may stay,
enjoy a painless state existing numb,
where no more he will rue the light of day,

yet he, who can not live without her breath,
likewise can not depart from her in death

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
Apr 2012 · 481
Her Words
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
her words
i'll remember
"i'll love you forever
and never will i stop loving
never"

"never
will i ever
want you again ever
even though i said forever--
never"

her breath
evaporates
her words are breath to me
not to grasp but inhale and dream
of them

her words
exist no more
not carved in stone nor steel
not bound by worth or earth, but by
my thoughts

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain Sequence
Apr 2012 · 1.4k
Outcast
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
i am
disconnected
among the living, dead
i move about unseen, unheard
unknown

the world
rejects my face
it hides its eyes from mine
it wears the face it shows the dead
unseen

i walk
deserted streets
where midnight moon alone
illumines roads for creeping things
unseen

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain Sequence
Apr 2012 · 636
Arise, Lover!
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
arise!
dearest lover
from my lonely longing
words of wishful rememberance
arise!

arise!
i command you
with desperate words aflame
like coals smoldering within me
arise!

arise!
or be consumed
i will and burn ablaze
for heat as this cannot be held
arise!

arise!
my screams whisper
my moans twist up in smoke
in memory alone you smile
risen.

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain Sequence
Apr 2012 · 685
A Quiet Storm
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Silence,
but tap-tapping
raindrops on window-sill.
Night sky's rumbling thunder in the
distance.


(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain
Apr 2012 · 2.7k
Filling A Void
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Seashells
line my bare shelves,
barely--line my bare walls,
collecting emptiness to fill
my house.

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain
Apr 2012 · 2.1k
Full moon
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Full moon--
lone traveler
in a boat of white cloud,
drifts across the silent dark
night sky.

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain
Apr 2012 · 737
Birth and Death
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
in warmth
we dress inside
a darkened dressing room
not caring for the fashion trend
this womb

in dark
and cold undress
ourselves to lie, to sleep,
not knowing of a fasion trend
this tomb

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain Sequence
Apr 2012 · 1.5k
The Old Tickling Trick
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
tickling
squirm and giggle
lead to grabbing hands and
holding hands and stares while drawing
nearer

the eyes
draw faces close
before the hungry kiss
and held hands release to embrace
with fire

the kiss
now ended nice
recalling the tickling
realizing it wont work again
that's past

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Cinquain Sequence
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
their warm arterial embrace was ripped
the day you tore your heart from mine, it died
alone, its beating stopped where once it skipped,
it withered in its solitude and dried,

now pluck this deadened fruit from out its vine,
and crush it into powder fine and white,
from purity of love it is refined,
a remnant of my love unspoiled, zinc bright,

freebase it and inject it in your veins,
or mix with water, drink it as an ale,
or snort it yet don't leave a single grain,
or nebulize it, deeply do inhale,

my essence seeks to once more be a part
in some way with your unforgiving heart

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Shakesperean (English) Sonnet
Apr 2012 · 776
buried
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
buried
in the casket
stillness



(C)2009, Christos Rigakos
Haiku
Apr 2012 · 1.6k
hospital sheets
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
hospital sheets
laying crumpled on the bed
my father



(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Haiku
Apr 2012 · 2.5k
sunset
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
sunset
over the horizon
our love
sinking into the sea
of distance


(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 646
coughing up
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
coughing up
not able to
his breathing tube


(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Haiku
Apr 2012 · 813
the last red balloon
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
the last red balloon
from your last birthday party
now deflated
i slump in my chair
staring at your pictures

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 781
The Wendy's Massacre
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
at the storefront
where the life blood
poured out
from the hearts of many
balloons flowers and letters

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 728
inside the groove
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
inside the groove
of a headstone's engraving
a wandering ant
learns the name
of my grandmother

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 1.5k
he swore
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
he swore
he didn't have a gun
"Kurt Cobain"
etched in stone
on this songless night

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 1.0k
since our parting
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
since our parting
another's taken her place
loneliness
with unwavering loyalty
never leaves my side

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 734
after the chocolates
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
after the chocolates
only emptiness fills
this heart-shaped box
since you left I wonder
why mine keeps beating

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 469
all night
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
all night
eluding my capture
sleep
holds me captive
in the morning

(C)2001, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 567
a clearance sale
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
across the street
a clearance sale
at the antique shop
i wonder if they carry
my old lover's heart

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 2.0k
under the full moon
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
under the full moon
the ceaseless howling
of a dog
i join in kinship
for one so far away

(C)2002, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 497
as you pour the wine
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
as you pour the wine
while staring at me
it overflows
this heart of mine
with uncontainable love

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 572
waiting silently
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
waiting silently
by the crematorium
the ashes
fall from her cigarette
without a sound

(C)2005, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 730
her shriek
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
her shriek
as a millipede on the wall
is crawling
up and down her rubbing arms
the thousand legs of goosebumps

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka

This one got an, "oh that's good!" from Jane Reichold.  I'm honored.
Apr 2012 · 646
fluttering wings
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
fluttering wings
suddenly a bare branch
left shaking
my heart soars to the skies
with the thought of you

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 718
since our parting
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
since our parting
we've become intimate
the side of her face
receiving my kisses
from a distance

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 405
space
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
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
Tanka Sequence
Apr 2012 · 808
empty shell
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
with brother
in the grave
my spirit
without him an empty shell
now roams the earth

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 483
pouring out old water
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
pouring out
old water
even my heart
needs catharsis
now and then

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Tanka
Apr 2012 · 711
Behold Your Parents
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
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
Heroic Sestet Narrative

A little wise advice to myself.  I'm not the best son.  Maybe if I keep reading, it will sink in.
Apr 2012 · 1.2k
Interview Honesty
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
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
I adopted the metaphor, "Interview Honesty," and decided to post it here as well.
Apr 2012 · 1.9k
Winter's Bare Trees
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
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
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
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
Villanelle
Apr 2012 · 371
Our Eyes
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Our friends, they see your eyes in mine,
our special sideways glance,
I am your echo left behind,
and every often chance,
I catch them looking in my eyes,
discerning you from me,
when tears well up in their own eyes,
it's only me I see.

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
ngiti mo sumunog sa puso ko
mata mo alipimin kaluluwa ko
kapag ikay nakatitig sakin
napapaso ako sayong mga tinging magpakailanman

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Apr 2012 · 697
The Soldier's Weigh-In
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Awakened by the rumble in the ground,
I stared unfocused at a rolling cloud
of smoke and black soot falling all around,
and startled at the thunder-crack so loud,
          that scared to lifeless sleep a thousand faces,
          which littered fields to the most remote places.

The rumbling, now with squeaking iron wheels,
grew louder as the iron beasts approached,
I stood  and reeled upon two aching heels,
the sight of monsters ready to encroach.
          I fell beneath the belly of one beast,
          devoured into its raging, trampling feast.

Awakened by the whooshing of my breath,
pressed out from lungs and skin so completely,
after the cracking, crunching sound of death,
where pneuma from its flesh finds liberty.
          As light as soot-less air that blows away,
          I bid farewell to me.  I could not stay.

Around the fields where soldiers came to slay,
some shadows danced their jig victoriously,
while others puppeteered warriors in play,
and bathed in blood-warm sin so joyfully.
          And white-robed praying men stood off aside,
          with faces deep in praying hands to hide.

And,  as if sniffing blood upon the air,
some shadows turned their heads at once to me,
proceeded to approach like floating hair
of one drowned, pushed about, under  the sea.
          Their un-mouthed accusations, gurgled screams,
          struck fearsome that I burned up at my seams.

Yet one warm hand upon my shoulder stayed
my tremblings, my accusers ghastly shrieked.
My fears, not fully quenched, were much allayed.
The white-robed man, in un-mouthed words did speak,
          in my defense, recalling all good deeds,
          at times when his advice I'd somehow heed.

The raging shrieks cast all I ever did,
from infancy until this very war,
all things exposed and all I ever hid,
my very being was bared down to my core.
          In minutes lasting for eternity,
          my every living moment I could see.

Both sides had piled my deeds upon a scale,
each deed a colored weight much like a stone.
When one would add his stone,  the other'd wail,
till finally I found myself alone.
          I looked around and saw no one in sight,
          as darkness overcame me with a fright.

In blindness, all around me, grinding teeth,
unreachable, beyond my farthest reach,
a heaviness, as trapped down underneath,
a chasm, somewhere, never to be breached.
          The argument had finished, I surmised,
          with my conclusion hardly a surprise.

(C)2010, Christos Rigakos
For lack of a better genre or poetic form description I would categorize this poem as a Linked Quatrain-Couplet Narrative (or a Venus and Adonis Narrative--after the Shakespeare poem of the same name written in iambic pentameter), and somewhat in the style of William Wordsworth's "Daffodils" (1804), written in iambic tetrameter.

After more extensive research, I found this to be a Narrative of Sicilian Heroic Sestets (of rhyme scheme ababcc), not to be confused with the Italian form (of rhyme scheme abbacc).  The Sicilian Heroic Sestet is identical to the English Sestet (which I believe was brought to England from Italy by Petrarch?)

As an extra aside, this form was inspired in me after reading a poem of similar form inside the wrapper of a Chocolov chocolate bar.  Great chocolate, great poetry.
Apr 2012 · 3.1k
Mourning Dove
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
The mourning dove--it casts its shadow long,
from windowsill, along my bedroom floor,
black sprawled across my bed until the door--
it fills my ears with morbid sighing song.

Throughout the day on paths I walk along,
it sits on bare tree branches up on high,
and sounds aloud its four-tone lonely sigh,
its presence ever-subtle, ever-strong.

And when I then return from where I've roamed,
in my so vain attempts to daily flee,
where I realize there's no escape from me,
the mourning dove, it greets me when I'm home.

Perched on my windowsill, within my sight,
it starts once more its melancholy song,
and casts again its shadow growing long,
that blends into the darkness of the night.

(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Standard Quatrain Form
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
insane, i boxed the snarling dragon's snout
and bruised its lips, bruised knuckles on its teeth
i struck its eyes above and chin beneath
it snarled and growled, i punched it all about

my desperation vanished quick all doubt
without a mighty sword, even a sheath--
to slice open that throat just underneath--
just ****** flurry storm with thunder shout

i pried open its mouth, my damsel there
much deeper in the throat this time around
i reached and pulled her out past snapping jaws

how often must i raid this dragon's lair
to save one who in dragon's mouth be found
so frequently delicious with her flaws?

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Petrarchan (Italian) Sonnet
Apr 2012 · 652
My Alice in Chains
Christos Rigakos Apr 2012
Alice In Chains embodies my soul,
complete reflection of my toll,
their addiction, and my addiction,
same in pain and all affliction,

Drugs for them and love for me,
equal in savage dependency,
taken away from us, we tremble,
I and my Chains, in this, we resemble,

In howling minor keys they play,
matching my feeling, enhancing its way,
expressing with lyrics so concrete and cold
the burning blackness of our broken soul.

(C)1999, Christos Rigakos
Standard Quatrain.
Christos Rigakos Mar 2012
eight months we loved and fought with equal rage
upon the net's equator spinning round
we baked our flesh in sun of summer's age
and died on winter's snow filled concrete ground

this, every day a battle to the death
we slaughtered one another to the grave
then making love, restoring life with breath
we'd soar back to the skies embraced and saved

each day has been a lifetime full of life
lived fully in our love den's angry place
ineffable our love in passion's strife
so many resurrections in one space

and now too tired to raise again the sword
we rest with silenced love and not a word

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Sonnet
Christos Rigakos Mar 2012
oh how coincidental is this fate
to grab a seat within a new classroom
between my current and my former mate?

who knew that destiny could calculate
the weaving of three strings upon its loom?
oh how coincidental is this fate

the swinging of the pendulum so great
within the grandpa clock before the room
between my current and my former mate?

my senses convolute when both create
a rare concoction of combined perfume,
oh how coincidental is this fate

when memories flash back and forth in state
my heart from extreme ends being consumed
between my current and my former mate?

eventually they'll meet, communicate
the sign of the beginning of my doom
oh how coincidental is this fate
between my current and my former mate?

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Villanelle
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