A full stop that doesn’t want to be alone.
An ending that continues.
A declaration of an omission; an omission which reverses itself, if decoded by the reader.
A manifestation of cowardice on its one “edge”, but the absolute courage on its other.
Unclear communication on the one side of the coin, pure intercommunication on the other.
A lack-of-words so “wordy”, that includes the completeness of non-lacking.
A mark so liberated and liberating, that gives the absolute freedom to the receivers of the message to interpret it as they please. …
Where are you?
Will you come
out of the blue?
If I kill you,
would this mean
I’m a monster, too
Was your figure
in written formed
just for secrets
to be unexposed?
I am ready
all the symbols
for me to see
that my fear
for me to know
I can “grow”.
When a fear
there you are
with teeth prepared.
I’m not here
to be eaten,
unless by terror
I’ll be bitten.
big and wild cat,
you’re a kind of
They seem to last,
but they are flashes in a row;
presented to me in quick succession.
Snapshots that continuously
follow one another,
like the sketches that used to
make animation “happen”.
That’s the movie I watch,
being the viewer and the actor.
“Here and now I am”
is the only stable factor.
That’s the thing all my
experiences have in common.
Everything else may be a dream
that rolls on.
To handle the continuous
change, flow, instability,
I need to stand on a firm
spot, right Archimedes?
Here and now I am
is the only thing that never changes;
I lean on it and I manage
my earthly challenges.
Nothing else is indisputable
in this beautiful sphere;
but this, strangely, doesn’t
lead to insecurity.
Observing my mind’s geography
as I drink a glass of liquid curiosity.
Thoughts perform a continuous choreography.
Dots connect, lines run with fast velocity.
I think of a prompt many people use
“Stop your mind, empty it from your thoughts”.
I must be blind, crazy, or maybe confused.
Isn’t this prompt also one of the mind’s creations?
Mind is like an egocentric kid,
looking for 24/7 attention.
Instead of trying to vacate it,
just be detached from its automated creations.
Stand there, look at them passing by
as if they were buses that don’t serve you
while you are at the bus station aside,
not getting on them even if they call you.
Insecurity is a strange thing.
You lock the door of your house, your windows, your room’s door,
and you go to sleep feeling safe.
Yet, if something “bad” is to find you, it will come even in your bed,
under your blanket, in your safe nest.
There are also those times that you are more exposed than ever,
and nothing bad is happening to you.
Not only that but also, great things come and find you…
But you don’t notice that. Moments like that are like the ants in the cage
of a lion at the zoo; you focus on the…
Present through being absent;
two letters are missing from the accent.
An omission that recants itself.
Common sense fills the empty “shelf”.
We all know “__’cause” needs “be” to be content.
William J Spirdione tickled my hand
by inviting me to the Limerick-land.
He said I might like to be a cannon fodder;
What does he mean? I wonder…
Isn’t it obvious I’m a veteran who’ll withstand?
As you can understand, these Limericks are written in response to the prompt in which my fellow writer William J Spirdione invited me to participate.
They are both connected to “because”.
The first one…
Come, my beloved hurricane,
take all the beliefs I have molded,
empty me from labels and ideas,
scan every cell, take out every foreign matter,
wash away every earthly memory,
liberate my actions from past experiences of this life-cycle,
enter every organ, and absorb the rest of the consequences
of all the almost-reactions that ended up as repressed intentions,
leave me naked to serve the pure motives that the principle of life has,
uncover the field beyond earthly mind,
where I am so often,
experiencing even the being beyond experiencing condition.
I give you access to every inner corner…
It’s a real imaginary tree;
whenever I want, it’s here with me.
It is the one to which I climb
to cheat on the ground with the sky.
When I stand up for myself,
it sprightly extends.
When I put my needs at discount,
it wrinkles its branches to the ground.
Calm in Autumn,
accepting the fall.
Peaceful in Spring
respecting the cycle.
Wisely living for the now,
anxious for nothing, somehow.
It offers shelter, hosting nests,
having also previously nurtured itself.
Νo water well quenches anyone’s thirst
unless it is filled first.
When I’m on the top of it
freedom it is that I breathe in.
I’m perfectly balanced,
I look at the Sun,
I put on my wings,
I give birth…
Every thing encloses its future; so do I.
It’s being drawn as I walk.
So, it isn’t exactly future.
Every step forms the point on which my foot stands
at that moment.
The soil is being created as my foot moves towards it,
and it is fully configured just when my sole touches it.
Synchronous willing, acting, creating.
Nothing was there before, and nothing will be
— externally — after I move on to the next step.
My nows are enclosed in me.
I carry all my timings, as time folds over itself.
What happens within is all that remains.
an eye turned in a vertical position.
I see it like this
’cause it serves my mission.
“ίta” is the previous one
in the Greek alphabet.
When written as a word,
it means “defeat”.
So, after a defeat,
I need to see something in me.
If I see it,
“loss” is turned into victory.
This is the alpha and the omega
of how I see my battles.
I never lose;
I whether win or I’m being “blind”.
Here’s an interesting piece, written by my Medium & Vocal friend, Patrick M. Ohana
Anthi Psomiadou — CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 International : Credit must be given to the creator/ Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted/ No derivatives