you are a spark out of a dying ember, phoenix of my life. where one dies, another is born, and you are the lantern of the light in my darkness.
I am raw and unhinged, while you are dreamy and uninhibited. the colors of the iridescent webs you weave leave me breathless as I examine each gossamer strand.
you are artemis, the goddess of the hunt; protector of all creatures great and small. I, being a mere red fox, fall under your care. your empathetic abilities radiate so much love, and fluctuate to meet my moods and emotions.
you are as if nature and nurture collided together through the stars as they formed you.
you weave your celestial lights in the sky, my aurora borealis. you are an ethereal essence made of light and love ribboning in the night.
I want to bottle you up and keep your eternal light by my bedside to guide me throughout life – to finally say that I own and have a small piece of something of perfect divinity in nature; but I know this can't be the case.
you are wild and free; untamed by man. but I know somehow, just like the moon; you will return to me each night.
This is ground control
I sneaked in to give you a call,
it’s been a while and I yet wonder
are you still floating ‘round your tin can?
Since you launched in sixty-nine
not much has changed on planet Earth,
though Voyager one has left the system
recording sounds of Interstellar Space.
Its batteries are running low
but then other probes are on their way
rest assure, they are not searching for you
you’ve been forgotten long ago.
Scientists still question whether
indeed there is life on Mars,
planning missions to get there
we’ll leave in fifteen years or so.
Some are drawing domes forsaking
tragedy, creatively painting our escape.
Mickey Mouse has packed his suitcase,
left Minnie waiting in a bar.
Modern telescopes point to discover
exoplanets not too far, just in case,
some residing habitable zones
orbiting nearby stars.
This is ground control
I hear footsteps in the corridor,
have to run will call you again
until then I’ll keep taking care,
of your Diamond Dogs.
Long fingers, strong
as those of a pianist, maestro
entrancing as he strikes ivory
hypnotising notes gently
opening with an adagio,
softly incalzando to an allegro
keeping tempo, beating rhythm
to intimacy only awaiting,
I was born in green valleys to the effort of strong hands
roughened by the harshness of ungentle wintery gales.
Delight permeated space as they smiled to see me flourish,
Showering me with attention, care and compliments.
Perennially making sure I had all I needed as if I was
an incomparable incomplete treasure. For me they went as far
as killing storm clouds to shield me from hail, keep me
warm and protected. I thought they loved me for too much
energy, love and courtesy were devoted to me. Yet,
as soon as I started creatively sculpting blossoms, gems
of garnet concealing ancient praise, on an autumn day,
a distinguished man came to judge me prepared.
And that is when, my gratified father gave the order
to take me to the cellar strip me naked, thrust me
in a large basin, to be trampled over and crushed, shaped
for the pleasure of others. Vampires awaiting a chalice
of blood as my lymph, delicately streamed into barrels.
In agony there I was abandoned, for years secluded until
My release, from wooden prisons to glassed cells.
They dressed me up and took me out to bars,
Sold me to the best bidders promising I would quench,
their thirst and make them forget, sorrows and worries
if only for a night. To date you can still find me at hand,
I’ll be your inebriating servant as I slither into your mouth,
intoxicate your essence with mine.
There is a space, hidden from the eye
Of all creatures residing Earth only I,
Cognise and call my own as I alone,
Walk its secret paths entangled
Meanders ascending towards thoughts.
A cave of shadows revealing its nature,
Where senses are dismissed for ideas
To sparkle intuitions of reality I grasp,
Eyes closed, ears shut, no fire burning
Behind me to project illusions before me.
Here, I defy the diktat of physical condition,
Truths only true to animalistic interpretations,
Inebriated by the spirit of greater verities
A place as immense as the Universe,
Concealed within me pigeonholed Mind.
Published yearly reports on global
development, equality and happiness
introduce, reflections of governance,
economy, wealth and well-being
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, rape 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.
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.
Crystalline waters enclose the rocks
Which ancient sailors swore to be,
The remnants of genesis leftovers
Of creation thrust deep, in the heart
Of the Mediterranean sea. Stones
Of philosophers mystic alchemy,
Metamorphosing mercury into precious metals,
Silver and gold, thoughts and ideas.
Blissful grounds of Magnum Opuses
In search of enlightenment where arid soils,
Nurture the trees symbolising peace
Delivering fruits treasuring divine,
A golden juice, a gift from Athena, goddess
Of wisdom gently slithering In Greek veins,
Inebriating essence with innate, gratitude
Towards nature and pride for roots profoundly,
Entrenched in concepts of liberty equality
Justice for all human beings, are equal by nature
Social animals responsible for,
Governing themselves within a civil society
Of free individuals. A land encompassing
A thousand islands, perpetual movement
Of tectonic plates under a blistering sun,
Caressing mountains a tireless breeze, whirls
The little white flowers off olive trees,
Now embodying the pervasive spirits of past
Conquerors standing on millenary blood-bathed
Territories ruled, yet by the twelve Olympians
A mythology while history is written
And narrates, the story of the men who fought
For pride and glory earthly vices
And out of Love.
Magic arboreal lights suffuse
amid the fertile underwood,
sheltered by rebirthing leaves
on the tall tree branches of a secret
forest, after the white cold carpet
of pale snow gives way to nature’s
awakening, from wintry lethargy
when plants and flowers rise
to blossom, green pastures offer
fertility to the somnolent hungry
inhabitants, as marvelled they gaze
in wonder fault of an archaic ingenuity
before, what are unknown to humans
as fireflies. To date all still ignore
the prodigies and riddles they carry,
their beguiling looks and doings,
for they shine to hide from incredulous eyes
omitting they are the ones who ring
the bells of spring’s return. Minute
enchanting creatures of sapphire silk
hair dressed in aquamarine
satin and lace, fays bearing
the magical lanterns of life.