"panoutsou" poems
Well done, well done/ with this hand of marble
White roses, open doors, rise the sun and fall
Flit and float, under the river’s flow/ shadows
thrilled/
Arrow in my hand/ as a tool for lovers/ beyond
the Dawn/
Keep the chief/ inside your deep velvet pocket/
Full of almonds/ to feed the thirstiest of dry soul/
Let the civilians/ to arrange the war and burn
the dead/
Well done my Lord/ well done/ those yours/
lie on the edge of seas/
What left is a narrow place for dwarfs/ to plug
the pledges/
Othello handkerchief/ under my pillow / to remember
before dark/
©MARIA PANOUTSOU
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 4:28 AM UTC
Είμαι η Αντιγόνη και όχι ο Ελπήνορας
Je suis Antigone oui, moi
Je suis morte oui je ne vis plus je vivais
Maintenant je suis morte mais de temps en temps
je viens et je reviens avec moi / j ‘amène le désir
de vivre encore une fois / mon corps frémit de nostalgie
de poser de questions tant des questions tant des réponses
c’ est un chemin triste mon amour pour vous
Je suis morte oui je ne vis plus/ Je vivais
mais de temps, en temps je reviens
à travers vos désirs vos aspirations vos appels
c’ est vous qui me faites venir ici / et moi
moi/ le rien et vous les tous
c’ est pour cela que je reviens
je suis ici encore une fois
pour plaire , sentir, danser et chanter
comprendre et aimer, encore une fois
©maria panoutsou Mάιος Ιούλιος 2016
http://mariapanoutsoupoetry.blogspot.gr/
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 7:44 AM UTC
To Olivia
I am of this world
Α walker with out hat
Νot man not woman
With breast not
With ***** not
Eyes and ears with me
Breaith and smiles with me
Warm my days with silence
Cooking and knitting with saturation
Who are you ?
Why you want to order me ?
I need no one
I am ready to die
Is this that you ask?
©Maria Panoutsou
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
{......} once and for ever
Shelton Street
with the mysterious light
during the dawn hour/
still dark /
but not dark completely/{,,,,{
Shelton street
By Maria Panoutsou.
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 6:54 AM UTC
The telegraph to a friend Days of life ….Number unknown ……Till the end of cosmos
©MARIA PANOUTSOU Unpublished Poem
The telegraph to a friend
Days of life ….Number unknown ……Till the end of cosmos
The sun raised not too high / Day first
For ever dragged/ her look a dawn
In fitting and non / wants an end to end
My land and / my time / people together with /
Favorite hunts/ just for once/ Second day
Miserable life without breath and blow /
But before and now / creeps something bitter /
Hard rock pass / heavy and rigorous /
As we get older/ we the youth / me folder hidden /
Under the dress gesticulate a pray/
It is in and out Victorious psalm / Third day
Landscape cloudy / but beloved / and women alone /
Nourish baby and death timed / and a man drown lake/
With eyes crying / Fourth day /
Dogs and frogs/ and lonely pedestrians / out of the pavement / Wishing a floppy river /with bright sun/
Day Fifth / and you letter is in my heart/ over my mouth
Over my own life /stay with out changes/ Day ……
……. forgotten numbers and chapters /
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
She gets up on the wrong side and
late /midday /noon calmly lust
In the blur window box /with frost
that rimes the glass /Wrote with icy fingers /
With meager letters / ‘love you’ You/
And with a sun / for filling the frame
She paints over and over
The room just a light lamp /
To be in the safety of four walls /
Images pierce / bricks with cement /
They arrive at that/ tender / and ' surprisingly /
Her world of / and his world /akin to a kiss
Body with body / and breath tickling nostrils
Out all gray and rainy / with mixed scents /
Approaching the time of the morning star /
and she / the city her own
©MARIA PANOUTSOU
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
HESIONE*
Shut in her room with the scent of roses
pounded with wet stones
picked one by one from the riverbank and shining still,
Hesione struggled to remove the clasps
which she placed on a piece of cloth weaved by her grandma.
Days later she lay in bed wrapped in a sacred vestment.
Secret hopes torpedoed her body
and for a moment removed the clasps from the groin.
All worthless.
People were buried nearby.
The freshly-dug graves smelled of tamarisks.
She and the Thoans scanned the sea.
Nothing reminded one of who she was and why she mourned.
She forgot all about Hercules, thurifications and joys never to be.
Now all worthless.
POEM FORM THE COLLECTION SALUADER
BY MARIA PANOUTSOU TRANSLATED IN ENGLISH BY GIANNIS GOUMAS
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
Letra: Maria Panoutsou
Traducción del Griego: Antonio Chincoa
Siéntate,
coge una silla
y siéntate.
el sol está lejos aún
cuando llegue la hora
lo veremos
traerá luz y calor
lejos está todavía el sol
y hace frío
y hace frío
es,
cuando venga la hora
lo sentirás
lo sentiremos juntos
y te irás
siéntate,
coge una silla
y siéntate
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 7:04 AM UTC
last night
I saw my mother in my dreams
she was travelling with me/
in a train
and she shown me something
outside the window
as I was trying to understand
and I moved my head,
a movement saying yes, yes, yes
but I was wondering /
what my mother said to me /
following her finger
outside the window
as the brise air /
caress her foggy face
μου έδειχνε
τον περασμένο χρόνο
βήματα αβέβαια,
μπουσούλισμα,
τρεμουλιαστά τρεξίματα
ματιές με χρόνο άπειρο
αναζήτηση αγκαλιάς
ζεστασιά αιώνια
στόμα που ανοίγει αχόρταγο για ήχους
καρδιά που σφυροκοπά
και βγαίνει ώρες ώρες από τα στηθάκια
γυρίζει το κεφάλι και κοιτά
ακούει τον χτύπο/σχεδόν τον βλέπει
μόνο το αίμα δεν φαίνεται/
ζαλίζεται γελά και κλαίει/
μαγεύεται και αφήνεται
σε κούνια αγκαλιά/ σε χέρια στιβαρά/
εκρήγνυται από αγάπη και
λέει μαααμαααα
Μαρία Panoutsou
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 12:02 PM UTC
pas un mot
nuages au ciel
l' autumn va venir bientôt
moi seule, avec des autres
moi avec des autes, seule
j' attends le vent dehors
comme la seule et la meilleure
moi silence pas un mot
on a oublié de parler
J'ai oublié de parler
©maria panoutsou 2016
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
Στο τρίτο πρόσωπο
Ξύπνησε αργά/ με αργή πεθυμιά/
Στο παράθυρο θολούρα και πάχνη/
Έγραφε με δάχτυλα παγωμένα/
Με γράμματα ισχνά/ ένα σ’ αγαπώ/
Και με έναν ήλιο/ για γέμισμα του κάδρου
Το δωμάτιο στο φως της λάμπας/
Στην ασφάλεια τεσσάρων τοίχων/
Εικόνες διαπερνούν/ τούβλα και τσιμέντο/
Φτάνουν σ’ εκείνη τρυφερά/ κι’ απροσδόκητα/
Ο κόσμος της/ και ο κόσμος του/ συγγενεύουν με ένα φιλί
Κορμί με κορμί /και μια ανάσα γαργαλεύει τα ρουθούνια
Έξω όλα γκρίζα και βροχερά/ με μυρωδιές ανάμεικτες/
Ζυγώνει η ώρα του αποσπερίτη/ και η πόλη δική της
©Μαρία Πανούτσου
Talking on the third person or Akin to a kiss
She gets up on the wrong side and
late /midday /noon calmly lust
In the blur window box /with frost
that rimes the glass /Wrote with icy fingers /
With meager letters / ‘love you’ You/
And with a sun / for filling the frame
She paints over and over
The room just a light lamp /
To be in the safety of four walls /
Images pierce / bricks with cement /
They arrive at that/ tender / and ' surprisingly /
Her world of / and his world /akin to a kiss
Body with body / and breath tickling nostrils
Out all gray and rainy / with mixed scents /
Approaching the time of the morning star /
and she / the city her own
©MARIA PANOUTSOU
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC
Κανείς δεν είναι άτρωτος να ξέρεις, γι αυτό να λες
είμαι καλά ευχαριστώ,
Στερνές και μη στερνές οι λέξεις, μη φανταστείς
λιγότερο τις αγαπώ,
Πως υποφέρουν να το ξέρεις, το ξέρουνε κι αυτές
το φώναξε κι ο ποιητής,
Και βασανίζονται και θάβονται σαν τα σκυλιά
στην άσφαλτο της προσμονής
maria panoutsou
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
REFUSAL
Throw the weak days away
for them to fight with vultures and win,
for all to be done quickly and brightly
like the most brilliant stars,
like the white nights,
when loves die and in the morning lovers split
with a pain between the eyes, between the ribs.
You and I shall fight together with pleasures and appeals,
transient and futile changes.
The love I forsook to be with you first and alone,
doesn’t wait for the moon to rise
and retaliate for my deed.
I must be going now, before you realize that
I don’t really exist,
that I’m only light
casting its cells for the last time
on a human face.
Βy Maria Panoutsou Translated from the Greek language
by Yannis Goumas
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Narcissus,
sometimes I seek confirmation
in a complete vacuum
or before the eyes of others,
in their hearts,
yet very often images
of my own pictures
sometimes at my cat’s touch
or, the touch of children
rather rarely in the work of others
humanity rejoices in every project
but more often in footprints
left by people my ancestors,
and the scars left by my own people
not appreciated soon enough before their absence
Narcissism? not so negative, you see?
maria panoutsou
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:10 AM UTC
Place to stay
out to wonder
Place to announce
the yes and no
To look and feel alone
with an echo
Outside on the streets are people walking
Inside the warmness of neutrality
You hesitate to rest or to activate the will
Illision accepteble without methermineia
Maria Panoutsou
Barbican London host area January 2016
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
you are the swan
that I was jealous off,
during a greenish morning
at the national garden,
so I photographed you
neck, face and anguished eyes
full of grace movement,
body defeathering by me
with the momentum of a lifetime
can t forget, can t ask,
a brief contriteness
©Maria Panoutsou
March 2017
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
Sidelong slop glance
with stealthy glance/picked the petals
of this flower/ nothingness to attract
and retained the green leaves / hyacinth
and orchids in a glass jar / light
to penetrate the random look/ humidity /
a micron air blow/ molding/ or there /
with the world that I loved/ companionship/
beauty is not hidden / neither ask /neither die
©Maria Panoutsou
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC
[ ....you came like a saint and you went like a thief or you went like a saint and you came like a thief...]
©Maria Panoutsou
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
this river / gray and brown / will move
so says tradition / lets stay faithful
since we have not / something else to recommend /
Maria Panoutsou Libations
αυτό το ποτάμι / το γκρι, καφέ/ θα το περάσουμε
έτσι λέει η παράδοση/ ας μείνουμε πιστοί
αφού δεν έχουμε/ κάτι άλλο να προτείνουμε/
μ.π σπονδές
questo fiume / grigio marrone / si muoverà
così dice la tradizione / lasciare fedele
dal momento che non abbiamo a /
qualcos'altro da raccomandare /
or
questo fiume / grigio e marrone /
lo leggerà
così dice la tradizione /
let rimangono fedeli
Dal momento che non abbiamo /
qualcos'altro di proporre /
Libagioni Maria Pnoutsou
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 7:06 AM UTC
homee come on dit Salut
l 'homme
l' homme
toujours
l' homme
mon homme
Maria Panoutsou
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 8:29 AM UTC
No one of us all, is invulnerable
be aware of it and say thank you
be able to say it, I'm fine, I mean it
Sternum and non sternum words,
you can t say that I love them less,
how they suffer, I am aware of it
words know it too, listen the shouting
of the poet, not humans only
but words too, are tortured and
buried, like dogs on a street asphalt
anticipation
Maria Panoutsou
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
Η ΆΧΝΑ ΣΤΟ ΠΑΡΆΘΥΡΟ ΜΟΥ
Η ΠΑΙΔΙΚΉ ΗΛΙΚΊΑ ΣΤΟ ΤΕΛΟΣ ΤΟΥ ΔΡΌΜΟΥ
ΤΟ ΓΕΙΑ ΣΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΤΑ ΛΈΜΕ
Maria panoutsou
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
Dedicated to a shadow
I am Dorian Gray, nothing can stop me
Until, one day,
I found a love (my love) inside a box of chocolate
«Open the box» the box shouts to me.
I thought I was clever enough
and I laugh at it.
So the box opens itself and
from inside, a prince appears.
and I blush with shyness
and makes the tea for me.
«What can I do for you Dear prince»
I said.
He replies with a joyful glance to me.
And then he touches my breast,
and I become red of shy.
I loved him at once.
And take his hands.
We were happy but one night,
my love finds me dead under our common bed.
And he took me out near the sea,
where he gave me a one and two and three, times
the kiss of life, and a cup of tea
I am Dorian Gray and no one will stop me
Only my love, who knows to kiss
and make the tea for me.
©Maria Panoutsou
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 5:15 AM UTC
Are you my father?
My eyes attracted by you /like an iced forest
Υour human name / been called by my blood
Breathless/ face to face /with you
Fall as dead bird /with slow motion
Against your blessing words /full of grace
forgive me for your other name
sing it/ at all nights /far from you
cluttering your human face
delve into the train tracks
or searching gracing lyric lines/ of yours
whether to find and then recite
before we run out of words
before the night will sleep on my eyelids
and not say the end is near
let it comes / will comes /only with loneliness
my father /my brother/ my lover/ my son
©Maria Panoutsou
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
MEMORY
The wind passed through the trees’ foliage.
Sandy, remote corners of no-man’s land.
Pine trees’ truncated branches.
A glance stands against every lover,
and yet last night I heard our song
as the full moon rounded the sky
and ever since passion instils twilight and dawn on my windows.
All is damp, and the wicker chair a trap.
I sought to fall in with the lines on the horizon,
and monstrous conches tattooed your face
on my white arms.
A seagull won’t be saved by sea food,
but from your hand, as you feign throwing
breadcrumbs slowly on the whitecaps.
By Maria Panoutsou
Translated from Greek language by Yannis Goumas
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 7:01 AM UTC