Whither thou goest, hither or thither?
     Goest thou thither or nay?
Thou claimest thou goest far thither most farthest,
     yet hither thou art till this day.
For all thou proclaimest, when thou oft complainest,
     thou movest not one whit today.
I dare say thou puffest thy chest and thou bluffest,
     for this is thy passionate way.


(C)2019, Christos Rigakos

you never thought to chew my lips like gum,
or scream your hurricane to flap my skin,
you never served your eyes to me like ***,
but breathed your name most like a thought within,

you were neither a virtue nor a sin,
i had no boast of you nor did confess,
never a scowl or howl but halfway grin,
you had a name my mind can not profess,

today you question me in much distress,
we met and spent the day but yesterday,
you claim you wore a pretty summer dress,
how could i not recall these things you say?

whoever you were, whatever your name,
to've met you or to not would be the same

(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

with every thought of you,
my heart explodes roses,
filling my mind's sky
with rose petal rain,
and every red petal
bears your name,
showering me with smiles
with every thought of you.

(C)1997, Christos Rigakos

With pompous fanfare I delight those few,
To smiles and loud ovations from afar,
Who sit upon my daydream's blessed pew,
And light night's darkened pathways as the stars,

With half-truths, bland omissions, outright lies,
I paint the murals colored by success,
To cover over failures, my disguise,
And hide their idol God has yet to bless,

For had I told the truth and never lied,
Those precious few would see and nod their heads,
Acknowledge my ejection justified,
Accept their children's love for me as dead,

For any food that fails to carry taste,
Is cast aside as utter worthless waste.

(C)2014, Christos Rigakos

Your love, with anguish, shows me passageways,
To exit doors and places of escape,
That I may flee impending sorrow's scrape,
Against my heart-skin in the coming days.

But love's advice begins my own malaise,
I'm smothered as under a weighty drape.
My heart compressed then loses its true shape,
While trampled under words of your own phrase.

I'd live serenely separate from this pair,
You often warn so bluntly yet so coy.
The thought of this is more than I could bear.

I'd rather live in service to your care,
Caressing you through duty or through joy,
Than live on loveless in such deep despair.

(C)2014, Christos Rigakos

your name is written
on a strand of your hair

if i could read your name
and utter it
conjure it
you would be

physically
how i knew you
but

in every other way
someone else

for who you were
is more than your name
all that you experienced
made you who you were
and who you were
could never again
be conjured
by the hand of man
but by the hand of God alone.

(C)2014, Christos Rigakos