Ο Σκηνοθέτης - a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

The Director's Dark Cut

My impulsive child
astride a white swan,
gallops away from Parnassus.
Calliope is incandescent.

Unravelling Worlds - a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

Toxic Love in Unravelling Worlds

Once, I was a poet.
Now I scribble garbled words
for pennies that no one ever reads.
The master will not redeem me—
I rebelled against the teachers of the metre.

A Summer Tale - a poem by Chris Zachariou

River at dusk, echoes of grief, and loss

Swallows still flew carefree
in the August sky — ironic!
Our summer had ended in July.

At the twilight of the day, we meet
in the silent garden of the obscured.

The Brownie Box Camera | Poems of Despair

 

A Face of Despair Behind Rusty Lens

“An old Brownie Box camera becomes
a mind's prison where memory fades”

I'm captive in a prison—
a Brownie Box camera—
old, rusty, silent.

It is locked but I cannot—
—or perhaps I don’t want to—
remember where I put the key.
Do I even have the key?

Apology - Poems of Despair

Poems of Despair

You took my burden
from an early age
on your young shoulders.

Old Stories - Melancholy Poems

 

The rivers surged—first blood.

Your naked scent,ripe red strawberries in June,

bread and wine on Primrose Hill.

Rachel and Aysha - The Innocent Victims of War

The Golden Gate of old Jerusalem

Rachel screams.
A ripping pain mauls
her body but the cruel
abuser has no pity.