I do not fear you anymore - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Divine Fury Unveiled

My love for The Son of Man and Christianity as a way of life is infinite, however, I find it impossible to believe in a metaphysical world.

This poem is my own personal view of God. Please do not continue reading if you are easily offended or intolerant of other peoples' views.

This poem is largely inspired by the novel 'The Last Temptation of Christ' by Nikos Kazantzakis.

This place is bleak.

There are no flowers
the land is scarred
and all the birds have fled.

A solitary burnt-out tree
with a broken branch
is struggling to survive
against disease and darkness.

The Hero - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Relationship breakdown - Photo by Eric Ward

I remember your pain when your lover left
and your when another came to stay.

He was famous, a hero and a legend
with a crown of laurels on his head.
He filled your world with brave dreams
and dazzled you with his light.

Sad echoes of my life - a poem by Chris Zachariou

A Lonely Man on a Park Bench

You have now taken over.

You are with me every minute
of my life and it all seems so real—
a kindness of time standing still.

You are everywhere I look, always

with white lilies in your hands.

Remember Me - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Brother, do you remember me

I am the one before your life

I'm the one without a name.

I was cursed and I banished

from the garden of the fathers

with a cross upon my shoulders—

a burden for the sins of others.

Helen - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Helen of Troy by Zuzu Sahillioglu

An impish light tiptoes in
through the queen’s window
falling on her open lips
like a thief at midnight.

My Day - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Little Venice - a Neighbourhood of London

For many years now I live alone

in a tiny single room by the canal.

I have no photographs on the walls

there are no books on the shelves

and the wireless broke years ago.

I feel nothing, I need nothing, I want nothing.

I do not read the papers and hardly watch TV.

The Cemetery - a poem by Chris Zachariou

death

I see their names carved in stone

on marble crosses with roots of bone

trees dripping with death and tears

bloodlines buried for a thousand years

perched for ever on this barren hill

obedient keepers of our Fathers’ Will.