Love-allergic, But Thirsty For Love

A poem about them (or every me and every you sometimes)

Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

They touch gold and turn it into coal;
a Midas myth somehow reversed.
Valuable people approach them,
but end up leaving them as cursed.

A self-destructive mania seems
to have taken over their being;
love is what they’re thirsty for,
but love allergy they’re manifesting.

The more you take care of them,
the more you gradually become
the main person they compress,
since you also “sign” that “contract”.

They depend on you even to breathe,
but they will never admit it.
On the contrary, they’ll present themselves
as superior, artfully hiding it.

Whenever your point of view
is different from theirs about something,
they take it personally at once
saying strictly “you reject me”.

Their narcissistic inner eater
demands from you indirectly
to put them in the center of
your attention permanently.

The main role they want you to play
is the one of their admirer.
They don’t really believe in themselves;
they need you to put them higher.

Many of them have accomplished a lot
in the external field, in many ways,
but they don’t see it or it’s not enough;
a childhood issue still haunts their days.

Until the widening of their perception
about themselves and the pan-cosmic functions,
fear will be their catastrophic counselor,
giving directions to their actions.

Inspired by the following song, but also by my fellow humans, my other selves…
Every Me And Every You

Burn Everything Down

To us, freedom is scary. For now.

Photo by Lux Productions on Unsplash

Under the permanent threat of Recep’s
war-friendly mentality,
we buy and buy again killing stuff,
filling our armory.
His unpredictable psychology is fed
by his dream
of resurrecting the Ottoman Empire,
and become a «king». 
Many of our politicians also find
the opportunity for deals
that build their financial security
for as long as they’ll live.
Intermediaries rub their hands,
waiting with anticipation
their part of the golden pie;
who gives a shit about the nation?
Taxes are paid, military equipment
is multiplied,
while our hospitals don’t have toilet paper;
the patient has to bring it!
A part of our dept has been created
by deals that were done
under the table; being a Greek civilian
seems to be fun…
Average income at around six hundred
Pensions were cut; we had to save the
German banks, folks!
Oh, Greece of the now, with your bright
ancient depth and spirit!
You haven’t understood, you haven’t learned yet
how to utilize it.
You are dragged by those who stand and
walk firmly
on the fundamentals you contributed to
be built.
So, let’s burn these archives, the texts, the
Knowledge of our deep, insightful past.
Put there the contracts, the agreements for austerity
measures, and clean the …dust.
Fire, then! This is the right method for getting rid
of values and qualities we find unnecessary.
Burn everything down!
To us, for now, freedom is scary.

I hear the Tiger Lillies in my mind now;
they sing for me «Start a fire today«!

Widened Soc-eyesight

Revolutions don’t need guns; just wider society’s “eyesight”

Photo by Ryoji Iwata on Unsplash

Progress and regression are holding hands.
Society walks on both philanthropic and misanthropescenic paths.
Viruses are real, and so are the interests of the minority they serve.
Every crisis has people who make a fortune in parallel.
Smartphones and laptops are steps forward,
but for these, poor workers in Africa suffer to mine the cobalt.
Massive info-flow on the internet-land
gives the impression of speech’s freedom, but what happened to Julian?
Democracy gives power to the people,
and then their representatives become indirectly dictators.
Police are here to keep the order on the streets,
and they often do it by beating up different colors of skin.
We are not apathetic onlookers without responsibility.
We are the society, and we have the ability
to use our critical thinking more often,
not to be fed by the “junk-food” of TV-channels,
to observe and perceive the whole image,
not parts of it at which the world’s “bosses” point their steely fingers.
Let’s see the whole forest, not just one tree.
Let’s delimit our perception and choose what and how to think.
The plutoligarchy that plays the “monopoly” board game on the world-map
has to hear us say “enough is enough.”

On Behalf Of The Parthenon

Parthenon’s poetic monologue
(…as it was formed in my mind to cover a need of mine; the Parthenon itself doesn’t need to express anything. It just is. And it makes its strong statements just by that)

Image by nonbirinonko from Pixabay

Barbarians, Christians, Franks,
Turkish, Venetians, and British.
My wounds have many names,
but they were all barbaric.
So many people passed and left marks
of dis-respectfulness;
an egoistic need of signaling
that they were there.
No matter what you represented,
you‘re mine now.
I feel so weak and insecure;
who cares about a sacred vow?
Let’s come up with the greatest
I’ll put a cross, you’ll put a minaret,
let’s rape this!
I’ll throw a bomb, you’ll burn
it to the ground.
Elgin will come and say 
“I’ll steal what I found”!
You may think I’m angry,
you may think I’m hurt,
that I am disappointed
by this species’ lost bet.
But while barbaric swords were raping
my sacred cup of life,
I stood there impenetrable, 
representing an essence wise.
How could I be in pain?
This is not possible.
I’m not just my marble flesh;
my image is just symbolic.
I represent an era of 
a wider viewpoint;
which also had black pages
in the book of its history.
But, it also had many struggling souls
that saw the divine face to face;
that noetic energy knows that
humans are not a lost case.
So, I’m still standing here 
for thousands of years,
with lost and destroyed material,
but still transmitting that atmosphere.
I’m not in pain but those who
hurt me are,
because they’re not truly aware yet
of their beyond-material part.
Every now and then they 
expand the horizons,
until that final level
where they’ll be that wise noesis.
Not for winning something in the future,
not for a better “who knows when”.
But for living a continuous now
within a bliss of full extent.

Inspired by the film «Parthenon» , by Costas Gavras


The watered-down seed

Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

Under this celestial roof,
where beasts and monsters breathe,
where dragons wait around the corner,
and wolves search for the sheep,
where Cyclops eat human flesh,
and Minotaur’s labyrinths are built,
where Hydras wait in the lake Lerna
with their poisoned breath to kill,
where Medusas turn men into stone
looking at them directly,
and Pandora’s boxes release curses
as an answer to curiosity,
one could feel afraid enough to 
never think of making a step,
seeing the horror on that list
that names so many deadly creatures.
Yet, the scariest probable challenge,
the figure that surpasses all of the above,
the one and only great enemy of mine
is I, the possible behemoth.