The love lost will be forever enshrined
within the warmest places of my heart,
such sweet sorrow for...
wait, what's your name again???

to be so eloquent of mind
but the mouth is locked
what sweet river that flows in the heart
betrayed by the tongue
this maddening speech
a struggle to say
a struggle to be heard
the stammer does not define me
despite it tripping my boot at every turn
to be so eloquent of mind
with the tongue so twisted

this is for you
•if you're still learning to love yourself
•if you have no idea why people choose you
•if you are anxious and overwhelmed because they said everything's gonna be okay but it just doesn't feel that way

-------
My mama said,
"Do not give them everything. Leave some for yourself. Do not give a hundred per cent so that if they break your heart, you are not left empty."

and so..

if I offer you only 50%
of the Love i have left to give
and keep the other 50%
so I can Love myself, too
will you still take it?
will that be enough?

if I put myself first
and then those I loved before I met you
and only then have time for you
will you still stand in line?
will you still say,
"I'm just happy you are mine?"

if you see all my scars
and my bruises that are still healing
will you still think me beautiful?
will you understand?

if my world starts to unfold
and you see the risk you are taking
for being crazy for staying
for being dumb for believing
in a future worth saving
will you still point forward
and show me the direction
towards
the house you've built for you and me
made of promises I've heard before
of dreams I've woken up to
of hope I have forgotten
and of Love that I no longer trust?

if the 50% you're getting means
the chaos and the mess of my past
and the tears you have to wipe away
and answering the same questions everyday
"do you still like me?"
"do you still want me?"
"are you still there?"
will you patiently say "yes"
over and over
until my anxiety is no longer
the the first thing I wake up to?

if I listen to my mama
(and this time I will)
will you take just the half I can offer
and make it your own
perhaps it'll grow bigger
like a seed that needs water
like a flower in the winter sun
waiting for spring to come
so that one day we won't have to
quantify how much I can Love you.

Inquire not of me, nor of my life!
     All knowledge, by instruction, is withheld.
     Our blood line cut, your kin no more my wife,
     your right to know by your own hand dispelled.
Your silence had you ousted from my heart,
     when I besought your most beloved names.
     Your hush kept me at bay, and us apart,
     as I sought you, my son-ship you disclaimed.
Now if perchance a thought of me has raised,
     please quick extinguish it and mind me not.
     Why resurrect the ghost of one you've razed
     upon your kin's request, and made as naught?  
True love, when born, has immortality;
when false it lives only conditionally.

(C)2018, Christos Rigakos

Am
I
Always
Going to
Feel
So
L
  O
     S
       T
?

I travel nightly to and fro on windswept sandy dunes,
and watch the far side of the moon, for it won't face me here.

I hear the Mourning Dove start sighing meloncholy tunes
in morning light, which starts too soon, and always finds me here.

I ponder life so quizzically, and contemplate the rhunes,
for I must never ask the Moon, whose silence chills me here.

Behind the glowing clouds that veil the fine majestic moon,
the bride awaits beloved groom, as I stand watching here.

"I am your mate, have you forgotten, my dear silent Moon?"
"We are a single flesh, in tune.  Why have you left me here?"

"Your face aloft and turned away, to stars you wail and croon,"
"and seek your other now lost Lune, while I am waiting here!"

Her farthest edges faintly glow. I'd pay to watch her swoon,
to my heart's rhythm late in June, yet I'm imprisoned here.

My chest, that swells by what I knew of times our love did bloom,
deflates remembering its doom, and I am stranded here.

"Too high to reach, in clouds cocooned, my far beloved Moon,
return to me on Earth and soon, or find my bones still here.

(C)2020, Christos Rigakos

There at the heart of the nation a great edifice
a temple if you will
erected to reflect the very best and greatest hopes of a nation.
While the cities burn
is it swift breaking dawn of a new age for the Republic,
or is it a last whispering death rattle of Democracy that we witness from the steps of these hallowed grounds
I tell myself not to fear
our nation has struggled through many great trials
to have found its way back from many dark days...
yet, still, the cities burn...
yet still, our nation divided...
We can only stand on these steps of Lincoln's epitaph
bear silent witness and hope
hope

You were always
Someone to live for

And now you’re gone....
And now I’m alone....


And now,
I have something to die for.








Why does everyone leave me?

there are symphonies in the silence
there are forests of thoughts
to be had in the space between
when she storms out the door
and when the loneliness sneaks in