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aurora kastanias Dec 2017
I have known her forever even when
others didn’t and did not care, to get
acquainted with a toddler for kids are
to listen and learn not to teach and tell,

neglecting to see the kindness, empathy
naturally flowing from inside. Innate qualities
of humans I thought to myself as she kept
rising doubts and queries to herself.

I have always loved her even when
others might have thought I did not know
how to. From the moment she became aware
of herself each time she looked deeply into,

the abysses of her big brown pupils reflected
by bathroom mirrors on window glasses
in calm water streams englobing an entire,
vision of a paradisiac Universe bursting within.

I have had jealous feelings for her when
enveloped in the loving eyes of parents
family friends and teachers, everyone
adored her, the way she made them feel,

the joy she brought the smiles she showered,
the respect she showed as she listened engaged
in heeding others, grasp meanings wisdoms
lessons from the elder, sitting beside them.

I always admired her even when
others thought she could not make yet
any sense. From the moment she became
aware of others each time she smiled

or cried wondering why, rejoicing for shared
occasions when adults also laughed flaunting
possibilities of happiness, despairing for harms
done unable to answer the simplest question.

I have always protected her more so when
others believed I was only trying
to **** her. From the moment she became
aware of injustice discrepancies cruelty,

poverty illness wrongdoings, warmongering
cycles of greed and vengeance, ‘life’s not fair’
repeated the adults dismissing, her ordeal
and disdain for what she could not turn blind eyes to.

I increasingly thought she was too
beautiful and pure to risk being affected,
corrupted in growth to become
mediocrely adjusted, following paths

of others. Until she grew and investigated
the Universe, understanding that life goes far
beyond Earth’s binding gravity, and that indeed
there is much more to all, changing perspectives.

I breathe her daily and now see how
small and fragile people are, within a Universe
so expanse, learning to appreciate them all,
recognising their might as a species developing

something even science cannot explain.
That crazy little thing called Love probably
the greatest thing of all, what makes our race
so special, worthy of compassion in hope of liberation.

I inhale her every thought and consideration
admire her ability to love humanity
as a whole, realising others are not
our hell after all, and that together

paying attention to imperceptible details
we can all evolve, into what we truly are
the best of ourselves in this wondrous
astounding Universe. She is I and I am she.

I love her.
On love of self
aurora kastanias Dec 2017
While four hauled on ropes
with all their might to heave
the vessel the rest of us pushed
as hard as we could for it to slip,

over rolling wood stems of nearby
centenary trees, cylinder boles cut
collected and positioned neatly
on the beach. Feet sinking in sand

scorching skin for what could have been
the last time, ingenious procedure
to ****** the mended old ship
at sea, once more to sail where winds

would blow her, hope would lead her.
Little did we know the two would take
us far into nowhere abandoning tars
to the mercy of blistering quiet.

No gale no direction other
than sudden calenture affecting
all the crew the captain miles
away from any coast under

hallucinogenic revelations
delivering abreactions
unexpected introspection
resulting in acquaintance

with self. Until storm was greeted
with joy mouths wide-open
like kids sticking tongues
out to seize drops of unsalted

fresh water after seven
days of compulsory ***
depletion. Invigorated a new
battle introduced its imminence,

waves as high as ancient temples
were the rival faced
while lowering sails to survive
unwilling to surrender yet

searching for land
through reluctant biting lashes until,
the last billow we saw captured
us and closed our eyelids,

forevermore.
On life and challenge
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
Enticing transparency of glass, crafted
sand shaping figure, wide cavity craving
to be filled allowing, oxidation melding
to capture oxygen emanate aromas,

inebriating flavours held by opaque
long stems impeding my consideration, I want
I do not, an automated old recurring gesture
creeping slowly from within, whispering

no harm will come from flowing, burgundy
liquid gold in the abyssal hole where stormy
tides hide ghostly presence, of memories
left behind. Fooling mind in thinking I

am only slightly, braking the rule being
responsible by starting, lightly. It is only
eleven after all and with a drop it’s twelve
before I know. A more appropriate time

to indulge, caressing bottles faithful
lovers pouring to please me, while
viciously they hurt me slithering inside.
I select the self-inflicted idea, that I can deal

I do not, have a problem if I cut, down
that’s just because I want to, not because
I have to. And I am more fun, I can relate
Or at least pretend I do without, feeling

like a fish out of water I can laugh disregarding,
the harm that has been done, to me
of which I am weary. Believe me it is scary.
And as my lips turn purple despite a soothing

taste I don’t like, myself in this state I rather,
run to my refuge where I do. Love humanity
yet know so well, no one will ever care, more
for me than myself. Miss that little girl,

always smiling counting stories, now
shading behind glasses to keep every other
being at a distance. Unable to flout
the Universe’s tendency unlike humans,

to prefer me when I am sober. They don’t
know, how could they, believing they are
worried when they claim I need it, a social
life yet they ignore, how overly populated

is my soul, encompassing them all.

Last drops and I linger regretting
lost hours drowned in wine.
On Alcoholism and sobriety
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
And yet she moves, silently,
spinning and swirling endlessly
revolving, around a rousing star,
elegant ballet stealing radiance

indulging in warmth, in glacial
space unfathomable sphere
of incandescence, fluid rubicund
lava leisurely turning into blue

water, mystifying evolution
randomly combining hydrogen
and oxygen elements to unfold,
a liquid carpet englobing

all, to the mercy of a pale
faced moon, meticulously keeping
a distance so perfect and rare
to bear, mutating molecules

spontaneously deciding to form
cells, eager to evolve slowly
birthing life in its depths, breathing
to ensure, generous exchange

a fair give and take, a cycle where
harmonic balance is
the orchestrated oeuvre
of an omnificent composer

inventing notes of gravity,
creating abstruse species
out of fantasy, only to craft
itself a witness, capable

of understanding the amazing
wonders it ceaselessly unfurls.
On Earth
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
As Earth spun to unfold a kind
creating sounds it calls upon
to express a thought a feeling
a sensation it barely comprehends,

life at the remnants of the core
of what once was a unique land
named Pangea evolved,
to get acquainted with a notion

that would reign thereon.

It all happened in an area
of encounters where gothic Liufs
held dear by German Lieb
saw Lief the Dutch and Liaf the Frisian

fall for Liof the Saxon catching Lob
praising Liebe rejoicing in the arms
of Liubi. Until came Lufu the English
who desired and felt romantic

****** attraction it believed worthy
of a noun all to itself, and that is when
Luve came into the scene to be greater
than anything else, a word

no one would ever forget.
While behind the curtains
Albanian Lyp begged needing Lips
demanding for more.
On the etymology of love
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
It’s been three months since I last,
And I thought I wouldn’t mind, I sufficed
My hands engaging, writing delicate words
Overwhelming spirit only craving,

Transcendence of my thoughts
To the esoteric demesne of the unknown.

Yet I now find myself, dreaming carnal dreams
At night, unwilling to wake up to indulge
A little more, in the arms of faceless fantasy
Seducing me in warmth. A lover’s touch,

Rolling under covers in the mist
Of vapours exhaling from intensifying breaths,
Whimpering over painful delights
Of pleasure, eyes closed

Until they open to discover
It was sun beams caressing, not a body
Nor a smile, sensual gaze disappearing
In consciousness arousal as I strive,

To return to sub realms lost in REM
As fast as they flashed before me
Seven seconds of intimacy I thought,
I did not need.

Untranscending anatomy rooted
In the corporeal demesne of the known.
On sensual dreams
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
Leaving the highway for the curvy rural lane
Moonless pitch-black night returning
From Rome to the heart of its green belt.
Where the countryside seduces farmers

With shiny nuggets on primeval trees,
Mediterranean gold, liquid olives
To be harvested and milled.
Up for bids to the greatest connoisseur,

Sabine hills the scenery of ancient Roman wars,
Where oil was not the only ****** to be picked and sold.
Sabine hills the refuge of deserters and the set,
Of my Romeo’s exhale after fixing its spark plug.

My lover at the steering wheel, my brother at the back,
Myself on the passenger seat listening to music
Smoking dreams away. ‘Smells like something’s burning’
A comment from the rear, to which the driver promptly

Responded ‘Your sister just lit a cigarette’.
Temporarily satisfying the doubt,
‘It’s getting hot in here’ was the next remark.
To which the patient answer followed

Blaming me once more. ‘Your sister just turned
the heater on’ And it made sense until
Few minutes later, flames burst out of engines
Glimpsing from the sides of a bonnet melting.

‘Stop and run for your lives!’ the unspoken words
And so I did, looking back only when I reached
A distance to see, my beloved brother attempting
To escape blocked by child safety locks for absent kids.

Turning down the window to jump out,
Dukes of Hazzard style. By the time
The police and fire fighters arrived,
Nothing but the steal incandescent skeleton

Was left of what once was my first car. Paid for
It two years still, until the last instalment
Made me laugh about it ever since.
My brother not so much.
On road trip gone bad
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
They run down corridors, penetrate
Eardrums, tympanic membranes vibrating
Sounds of whispered ignorantia, injected
In minds, spewed out of unclosing mouths.

Actively engaged in spreading the word,
As meticulous news reporters committed
To divulge, unfounded information, undercover
Agents passing off as martyrs compelled,

To fulfil their duties pretending
To reluctantly execute a social service, yet,
No one knows whether the lady down
The street truly cheated, nor if her daughter

Also slept with the alleged lover, while
The audience is convinced and has convicted
The adultery of the first sentencing the second,
To shame and long-lasting denigrating fame.

The punishment assigned to the free walking
Defendants, found guilty by a jury of their peers,
A public court rising to judge an offence
Sickly existing merely in those insinuating

Voices, inundating the tribunal corridors
Of the neighbourhood, the city, the world,
Tv and the web. Leaving the only words
That count engraved in marble, epitaph

On the tombstone of a suicidal man,

‘In loving memory of Mallory Dupe.
Beloved husband of Helen and loving
Father to Giselle. Shamelessly killed
By rumours. No redemption granted.’
On gossip and rumours
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
When demos loses kratia
our Greek fathers shake,
their heads in disapproval
unbelieving two millennia,
myriads of wars and corpses
abused, burned, bombed,
imprisoned and enslaved,
did not suffice to effectively mutate,
a thought into a fact.

Establishing governments supposed
to ensure our rights,
cater for the enhancement
of the quality of our lives,
irrespective of gender, ethnicity,
religion, ****** inclinations,
but most of all identity,
personal fundamental beliefs.
The Universal right to think.

Impostors passing off
as modern democracies,
collectively self-labelled
the mighty Western World,
despite more than none are led
by recognised dictators we accept,
as they only harm their own
Nicaragua, Venezuela, Cuba
to mention just a few.

And though as humans
we can merely hope
for unity strive
to accomplish the utopia
respecting demos differences,
no one can condemn
members of society
exerting their right to speak,
express their thoughts and will.

If division is for some,
a plausible solution
it is not for who disagrees
to revoke democracia,
gaol ideas by incarcerating bodies
fundamentals of authoritarianism,
as Madrid calls for European
arrest warrants for perpetrators of ideas
of independence I recall

famous words from the past.
"Ideas are far more powerful than guns.
We would not let our enemies have guns,
why should we let them have ideas?"
Yours faithfully, Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin.
On democracy and Spain
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
Heavy eyelids struggling to remain
Open, while as quilts they prepare
To shelter drying miotic pupils,
Grand drapes shutting before the stage

Of reality.

A tarnishing moon mists the mind
Attempting to try, to content temperamental
Will, keeper of infantile caprices finding sleep
Deprived of purpose, obstinately fighting

Biological clocks to stay awake, reluctant
To take the risk of missing, a moment,
That special interval of time, when
Everything happens and adults whisper.

Time that could be spent, to see, discover,
Imagine, create, and as I speculate
On all the things I could do instead,
Itchy feet resolve on dragging me to bed.

Lying down resilient still, I scribble
These words until Morpheus demands
Of me to drop my pen, unwilling to wait
A minute more he kidnaps me like gods

In ancient tragedies to realms
Of dreams where everything that doesn’t
Happen here, happens there.
Endless possibilities flying out

Of a whimsical ivory box.
On dreams and reality
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