Mystic
breaths
of sea-scent
a soft sand
fluttering
and the moon sinks
into the depths
of my hidden veins
If you see metaphors
to bloom like
a path into the mirror’s reflection
is my drops of blood
that crafts shining leaves
blossomed at night
when I close my eyes
as the wind blows away my mind

gothic angels live in the wind
their hearts empty in cathedral domes
with company of oblique curved devils
in a glass menagerie
with rosemary flowers on their hair
eyes of moon -glow of cursed opals
and bloodstones
untouched and pure emerald golden
passionless bodies ethereal of fallen angels
with mirages of rainbows
i write my next poem on their skin
rubbing their bones gently

their carnal fields so full of light

but in darkness they have no elegance
only monotonous absence
of endless naked breath of desire
that sweep across of my gothic soul

the rain arrowing their ascetic mountain
wind, wind, their enemy of floral still life
of butterscotch and thyme
the other blue pale and white wind
strips the tear of fields that are rolling

angels and devils shadows of pure beings
and i an illuminated soul to the road of ecstacy

dream let me dream
the small sky that suddenly expands ..oh it expands to new sky sea like horizons
I give you only a glimpse..I am tired and i am ready to go to sleep to see the rest
like dreaming… in hydra isle to see the rest like dreaming………
going from kalimnos the sponge island
to Patmos the holy island it was a journey that took me twenty years
my most hypnotic and
moral,amoral thoughts become very lucid when i visit this place
also known as a butterfly isle on account of its schematic idiosynchracy
in its imaginary holiness,
heretical the ascetic
are mysteries preserved in their purity, or falsified
and alloyed with fictions
living not atheistically the mode of the believer
but i am a poet i must travel eloquent than any lips
birth, place, inspiration, give me the baptism and my fate
with a new glimpse into the human garden
happy as in Eden.
to climb to those lofty and sublime peaks
without reservations and cares
( i spend so much time waiting,wasting)
and after I ate,and drunk the holy wine
and bathed in the Aegean brahma
i felt so buoyant like a moth into the blood of Greece
a voice came from the north wind
compelling me to say…..to hydra to hydra isle … Saronikos gulf cannot wait