Here's a photo I took last Summer, of my mum standing at Pissuri, Pafos, near Aphrodite's birth-placeMonday, 20 June 2011
Returning
Here's a photo I took last Summer, of my mum standing at Pissuri, Pafos, near Aphrodite's birth-place
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Performance: Temple of Nothing
Would like to share with you some information about the performance I am taking part this summer.
'On a blank-white-canvas, glamorous, stunning, cheeky, real, raw and true. 15 women writer/performers/artists all sculptured in white merge and intertwine to create the first of a series of earth quaking performances, giving birth to new myths, and exploding conventional icons and traditions. Its time. It's showtime...' as Belinda describes it.
On 16th July 2009
Tickets from Exeter Phoenix
Here is the official site for the company:
http://www.templeofnothing.com
This is a video of the team while photo shooting . :)
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Saviours
You’ll save the world
with a baton,
a costume
and a laptop in the hand.
Fuckers!
Yeah. Much you care whether he is drunk or stoned.
Together we share the supermarket dance.
At least this lad knows how screwed he is
And tries to get himself drawn
Not to see the shit-hole you've turned all this into.
with a baton,
a costume
and a laptop in the hand.
Fuckers!
Yeah. Much you care whether he is drunk or stoned.
Together we share the supermarket dance.
At least this lad knows how screwed he is
And tries to get himself drawn
Not to see the shit-hole you've turned all this into.
A closed loop the alcohol
Enough mold.
Hey you! Everything has been offered to you. Without you.
And you are thrown into the arena
A shadow fighting
Bleeding ghosts
Where? Don’t ask me!
I got used to drinkingblood and live with it!
Bless God!
Uneasy why do you feel?
As if you haven’t seen
Any dead person today.
Ha! Try to remember.
Have you seen any alive?
No, he got sold yesterday.
Tell me! Anybody Alive have you seen?
Written for Angelo who i met last night in the street dressed as a cop. no he hadnt been to a fancy dressing party.
________________________________________________
Θα σώσετε τον κόσμο μ΄ενα ροπαλο,
Τη στολη σας
Κι ενα λάπτοπ στο χερι.
Μαλάκες! Ναι και πολύ που σας νοιάζει
αν είναι μεθυσμένος ή φτιαγμένος.
Κι εσύ μαζι μας στο χορό του σουπερμάρκετ.
Ετούτος τουλαχιστο ξέρει το χαλι του
Και θέλει να πνιγεί μες το μπουκάλι
Μπάς και δεν βλέπει πως τα ρημάξατε όλα.
Θηλεία το αλκοόλ.
Μες σε σαπια μαγειρεύουμε.
Ρε! στα δινουν όλα
Και σε ριχνουν στην αρένα
Σκιά να πολεμάς
φαντάματα που αιμορραγούν-
Που? Mη με ρωτάς εμενα!
Εγω συνήθησα
να πίνω αίμα και να ζω,
Κάπως.
Τη στολη σας
Κι ενα λάπτοπ στο χερι.
Μαλάκες! Ναι και πολύ που σας νοιάζει
αν είναι μεθυσμένος ή φτιαγμένος.
Κι εσύ μαζι μας στο χορό του σουπερμάρκετ.
Ετούτος τουλαχιστο ξέρει το χαλι του
Και θέλει να πνιγεί μες το μπουκάλι
Μπάς και δεν βλέπει πως τα ρημάξατε όλα.
Θηλεία το αλκοόλ.
Μες σε σαπια μαγειρεύουμε.
Ρε! στα δινουν όλα
Και σε ριχνουν στην αρένα
Σκιά να πολεμάς
φαντάματα που αιμορραγούν-
Που? Mη με ρωτάς εμενα!
Εγω συνήθησα
να πίνω αίμα και να ζω,
Κάπως.
Δόξα σοι ο Θεός ομως!
Τι κομπλάρεις?
Λες κι εσύ δεν εχεις δει νεκρούς σήμερα.
Χα. Για θυμήσου.
Είδες κανα ζωντανό?
Οχι, κι αυτός πουλήθηκε προχτες
Ζωντανό ρε!
Ειδες κανενα?
Για τον Αγγελο
που έγινε μπάτσος.
painting of Klimt, Death and Life
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Dead end or a push forward
In your ignorance we pay the fees for miseryOur milk and bread feeds slaughters.
Tomorrow, in your bloody ignorance
you’ ll murder more kids than yesterday.
But you, don't worry. Keep on living
like an obese fashionable rat
under your fat others suffocate poisoned by gazes, famine, abuse.
Tonight, sweet dreams my dears.
But let me go first.
_________
Ok.
But I promise I want do any more
No more
until the actions take place.
Its so early but i feel exhausted.
exhausted rat.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Poetry, feathers and flowers
Totnes is an inspiration!
The poetry crew
My eyes a valley of pedals
Tim, looking like a veggie
Cameron, what a youthful old chap!
Cameron drawing to us the musical instrument he created on his own.
Feel so much like home there. Home, meaning the place where your heart can easily rest and smile.
a feeling controversially very different to the one that my literal home, Cyprus often evokes in me.
Tonight I met up with some lovely people and passionate artists.
along reading and chatting we played. In the game in which each of us was given a swan's feather and the only direction we had was to as write something descriptive about the feather.
Walking alongside imagination I wrote the above:
Oh, thats the fairy that appeared while i was trying to write...:)
she came very handy.
Swan's feathers
The air runs
through your soft
white legs
and your shiver.
The water sings
wavy melodies
upon your royal pathways.
Your basis, transparent,
the higher it gets
the stronger
the opaque smell becomes.
While falling
I saw you transforming
into a dove-fairy
whose dance
colored red
the icy surface.
You dived in
But still, still
the water
remembers
when you rested
in it's cold arms.
Million spasms,
cracks in the dream
when you shot at the heart
of the crystal reflections.
The poetry crew
My eyes a valley of pedals
Tim, looking like a veggie
Cameron, what a youthful old chap!
Cameron drawing to us the musical instrument he created on his own.
Feel so much like home there. Home, meaning the place where your heart can easily rest and smile.
a feeling controversially very different to the one that my literal home, Cyprus often evokes in me.
Tonight I met up with some lovely people and passionate artists.
along reading and chatting we played. In the game in which each of us was given a swan's feather and the only direction we had was to as write something descriptive about the feather.
Walking alongside imagination I wrote the above:
Oh, thats the fairy that appeared while i was trying to write...:)
she came very handy.
Swan's feathers
The air runs
through your soft
white legs
and your shiver.
The water sings
wavy melodies
upon your royal pathways.
Your basis, transparent,
the higher it gets
the stronger
the opaque smell becomes.
While falling
I saw you transforming
into a dove-fairy
whose dance
colored red
the icy surface.
You dived in
But still, still
the water
remembers
when you rested
in it's cold arms.
Million spasms,
cracks in the dream
when you shot at the heart
of the crystal reflections.
Katerina
Saturday, 21 February 2009
Όπου αγαπάς μη πολυ πάς__
Όπου αγαπάς μη πολυ πάs __ at the place you love, don't go too often
κι αν πολύ πας __ and if you go too often
μην πολυ κατσεις __ don't stay for too long
κι αν πολυ κατσεις __ and if you stay for too long
να μην πολυμιλείς __ don't talk too much
κι αν πολυμιλείς __ and if you talk too much
να κατέχεις να τα λές. __ be very aware of what you say.
Λουδοβίκος των Ανωγείων Loudovikos ton anogion
i tried to give the closest translation possible
κι αν πολύ πας __ and if you go too often
μην πολυ κατσεις __ don't stay for too long
κι αν πολυ κατσεις __ and if you stay for too long
να μην πολυμιλείς __ don't talk too much
κι αν πολυμιλείς __ and if you talk too much
να κατέχεις να τα λές. __ be very aware of what you say.
Λουδοβίκος των Ανωγείων Loudovikos ton anogion
i tried to give the closest translation possible
Lay & dive
... lay upon some silver-gold leafs...
..its so beautiful down here...
we don't need to go...hush...
listen the to the walking ...daffodils
hush...feel_____
we don't need to go
penetrate__ the silence
and sing with me.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Let go and Dance
--Its a weird story..:
-Tell me.
-a week ago I was with a friend of mine in an art café at the Barbican. I was having some hot chocolate. This man entered, holding a big African drum. (boom boom)
We greeted him and he talked with us for a bit. ..and went on doing what we were doing before he got in.
He sat at the bar, & ordered something there.
Suddenly, he started talking very loudly! On his own!
We were quite shocked!
I thought he was mad ( if he was , it wouldn’t be the first time I would have seen a really mad person in that café) until he started playing the drums..
-ahh . . .
-and I realized that he was actually narrating a poem! the whole situation seemed very stange and I was getting curious to find more about it.
-go on. .
-so I went closer to the bar, stood in front of him and tried to make sense of what he was saying. for some reason I found it hard.. Maybe because of the drum that he was playing simultaneously. So I could not resist not to ask him ‘what the fuck was all that about?’
-you said it like that?
-no..of course not!
-what was it about?
in another language?
-he told me that he was getting ready for a poetry night at the art centre
-great.
-and he had a quite sad face when he said that, because as he said a guy was going to accompany his poem with a guitar, but this guy didn’t make it at the end.
-ok, so he asked you.
-u r quick! yeah he did
-I told him that I didn’t know how to play the guitar. And he said ok with a sympathetic almost miserable smile. I felt a bit sorry for the old chap, and tried to think of how I could maybe help him. So.. I said to him ‘but i know how to dance thu’
-so you danced.
-I danced…and the drums drove me mad
-everyone watched . . And was transported to another universe
-everyone was transported, including me ...
-what a wonderful evening. So you became friends that way.
-yeah
-well I knew him before that. so i did the magic dance, it fitted very well with the rhythm of the drums! Then I agreed to do something like that in half an hour at the Art center.
So this is what happened at the Plymouth Art Venter that night.
* The Above conversation is closely based on a real conversation I had with Mark.
My friend recorded the performance we did. Its not a great recording or a great dance, but keeping in mind that everything was totally spontaneous, I am happy with it.
Enjoy!
-Tell me.
-a week ago I was with a friend of mine in an art café at the Barbican. I was having some hot chocolate. This man entered, holding a big African drum. (boom boom)
We greeted him and he talked with us for a bit. ..and went on doing what we were doing before he got in.
He sat at the bar, & ordered something there.
Suddenly, he started talking very loudly! On his own!
We were quite shocked!
I thought he was mad ( if he was , it wouldn’t be the first time I would have seen a really mad person in that café) until he started playing the drums..
-ahh . . .
-and I realized that he was actually narrating a poem! the whole situation seemed very stange and I was getting curious to find more about it.
-go on. .
-so I went closer to the bar, stood in front of him and tried to make sense of what he was saying. for some reason I found it hard.. Maybe because of the drum that he was playing simultaneously. So I could not resist not to ask him ‘what the fuck was all that about?’
-you said it like that?
-no..of course not!
-what was it about?
in another language?
-he told me that he was getting ready for a poetry night at the art centre
-great.
-and he had a quite sad face when he said that, because as he said a guy was going to accompany his poem with a guitar, but this guy didn’t make it at the end.
-ok, so he asked you.
-u r quick! yeah he did
-I told him that I didn’t know how to play the guitar. And he said ok with a sympathetic almost miserable smile. I felt a bit sorry for the old chap, and tried to think of how I could maybe help him. So.. I said to him ‘but i know how to dance thu’
-so you danced.
-I danced…and the drums drove me mad
-everyone watched . . And was transported to another universe
-everyone was transported, including me ...
-what a wonderful evening. So you became friends that way.
-yeah
-well I knew him before that. so i did the magic dance, it fitted very well with the rhythm of the drums! Then I agreed to do something like that in half an hour at the Art center.
So this is what happened at the Plymouth Art Venter that night.
* The Above conversation is closely based on a real conversation I had with Mark.
My friend recorded the performance we did. Its not a great recording or a great dance, but keeping in mind that everything was totally spontaneous, I am happy with it.
Enjoy!
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Enough
On my 21st I had a good time.
I met Antrea, a beautiful Spanish poet with whom we fished the roze clouds among the Barbican and the Hoe. they were so magically beautiful!!!
at night I was happy seeing my friends enjoying themselves at the party.
I for some reason felt a particular strange weight in me that day.
But still my day was full of drunk clouds & good hearted people.
Antrea & the Moon
These are enough
more than enough to make me smile...on a bright day ! :)
x x x
I met Antrea, a beautiful Spanish poet with whom we fished the roze clouds among the Barbican and the Hoe. they were so magically beautiful!!!
at night I was happy seeing my friends enjoying themselves at the party.
I for some reason felt a particular strange weight in me that day.
But still my day was full of drunk clouds & good hearted people.
Antrea & the MoonThese are enough
more than enough to make me smile...on a bright day ! :)
x x x
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Dead.end
I would like to put an end...
but it might be a shame,
none of my best pieces has
seen the light yet.
I shall make patience
this painting needs more colors
few fading pencil lines
unsettled clouds
a lone dove
scratch through the glass
a fall
at
last
but it might be a shame,
none of my best pieces has
seen the light yet.
I shall make patience
this painting needs more colors
few fading pencil lines
unsettled clouds
a lone dove
scratch through the glass
a fall
at
last
Friday, 23 January 2009
Music to the sky...!!
Στη θαλασσα αφήσαμε τον αγέρα
να τυλίξει τα μελωδικα μας χαμόγελα.
Μεσα απ’ τα διψασμένα χέρια
πετούν όλοι του κόσμου οι στεναγμοι
αυτοί σε νανουρίζουν καθε που ξεχνίεσαι σ΄ενα ακρογιαλι
γι’ αυτό στο ξύπνημα
με τη θαλασσα στα πόδια
παντα σου μένει η εντύπωση
πως έστω και για λίγο
ταξιδεψες καπου,
έστω με μια αναπνοή.
Το παραπανω γραφτήκε κατω απο την επίδραση αυτής της φωτογραφίας,
ειδικα για αυτή τη φωτογραφια.
Την οποία τραβηξε ο Δημήτρης.
Βρίσκεται και εδω:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dimitriskyriak/3215478052/
Dimitri, thank you for everything!
Thursday, 22 January 2009
when the night came
You asked for freedom to use me in the dream…but I don’t want to hurry…
often, when I let the passion drag me….I end up losing interest on the journey
longing only for the shore.
But at night the dream run,
and washed out
washed me out
washed out everything that stood still
as soon as you passed through the threshold..
Yet, I do not want to tell you what kind of music we played
I’ll tell you only that…
everything started under the olive tree, continued by the fireplace
and am not sure if its over now…
We flew away
stars and peace
with such an ease
My dearest, my heart pumps for the following reunion…
I’ll collect again
breath and magic, the darkness and the light.
Let’s make this olive tree bloom and then
they might imagine what we can see!
20/1/09
often, when I let the passion drag me….I end up losing interest on the journey
longing only for the shore.
But at night the dream run,
and washed out
washed me out
washed out everything that stood still
as soon as you passed through the threshold..
Yet, I do not want to tell you what kind of music we played
I’ll tell you only that…
everything started under the olive tree, continued by the fireplace
and am not sure if its over now…
We flew away
stars and peace
with such an ease
My dearest, my heart pumps for the following reunion…
I’ll collect again
breath and magic, the darkness and the light.
Let’s make this olive tree bloom and then
they might imagine what we can see!
20/1/09
Saturday, 3 January 2009
If I only could see you for a bit, I know...
nothing would change. Its still too early and cold in here.
That summer week will keep haunting me,
sshhh...yeah and we'll keep meeting up there,
not yet here, its still too early my dearest.
I got faith in me. The journey might be long, but the time will come. and there will be no place for fear nor trembling.
Next time you find me talking with the Ocean
don't hesitate a minute. Grad me , i don't give a Goddamn who this Ocean is!
just take me with you, away.
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Silence is complicity - Η σιωπή σου συνενοχή
In your ignorance you pay for this War...
Our milk and bread aids this slaughter.
Tomorrow,
in your bloody ignorance
you’ll murder more kids than yesterday.
Tonight,
sweet dreams my dearests.
K.
Our milk and bread aids this slaughter.
Tomorrow,
in your bloody ignorance
you’ll murder more kids than yesterday.
Tonight,
sweet dreams my dearests.
K.
Friday, 26 December 2008
Ποιός το ξέρει -Μάνος Λοίζος
Ποιός το ξέρει, ποιός το ξέρεί
πού γυρνάς τη νύχτα αυτή
Ποιος καημός και πιο νυχτέρι
σου ματώνουν τη ψυχή!
Σβήνουν τ΄άστρα ένα-ένα
κι όσα σου' χα ειπώμένα
γίναν δάκρυα παγωμένα,
γίνανε σιωπή.
Κρύβει η νύχτα το φεγγάρι
κι ούτε φώς κι ολυτε λυχνάρι
να μας βγάλει απ΄το ψέμα
κι από την ντρόπη.
Πόρτα ανοίγει, πόρτα κλέινει
και κανένα δε ρωτά:
τούτη η νύχτα πώς θα φύγει
δίχως φώς, χωρίς φωτιά;
1973
φωτογραφίες με τον ξάδελφο μου Χαράλαμπο, που τράβηξα ψές(25/12/08).
πού γυρνάς τη νύχτα αυτή
Ποιος καημός και πιο νυχτέρι
σου ματώνουν τη ψυχή!
Σβήνουν τ΄άστρα ένα-ένα
κι όσα σου' χα ειπώμένα
γίναν δάκρυα παγωμένα,
γίνανε σιωπή.
Κρύβει η νύχτα το φεγγάρι
κι ούτε φώς κι ολυτε λυχνάρι
να μας βγάλει απ΄το ψέμα
κι από την ντρόπη.
Πόρτα ανοίγει, πόρτα κλέινει
και κανένα δε ρωτά:
τούτη η νύχτα πώς θα φύγει
δίχως φώς, χωρίς φωτιά;
1973
φωτογραφίες με τον ξάδελφο μου Χαράλαμπο, που τράβηξα ψές(25/12/08).
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Ονειρεύτικα Χριστούγεννα, αλλιώτικα *
... σ'ένα ακρογιάλι..(μ'ενα τσαντίρι κάπου έκει για καβάτσα)
... λίγο αφού ο ήλιος έχει χαθεί..και ενώ το φεγγάρι είναι εμφανές στο βάθος
φωτία..
χαλούμια, παστουρμάδες, σούβλες, σιεφταλιές στα κάρβουνα
κι ένας ορίζοντας παραδομένος στις φλόγες του απογευματινού.
μυρωδιές μισοψημένων φαγητών σμίγουν
με την αλμύρα της θάλασσας,
ζέστη γύρω απο τη φωτιά ,
ο βρυχηθμός των κυμάτων μας καλεί με λαγνεία...
Είσαι για μια βουτιά?
...καθόμαστε στην άμμο και μιλάμε...όχι για δώρα, ρούχα και ότι τάχα κάνει μια τέτοια γιορτή χαρούμενη...
για μιά φορά όλα γύρω μας δεν μας σπρώχνουν σε τέτοιες συζητήσεις...
θα θελα να μιλάμε για άλλα...
Ίσως για τον άνθρωπο,
τον 'Aνθρωπο.
Πώς αυτός θα μπορούσε ν' ανέβει...
Ω! Ίσως να τολμούσαμε ν' αναλογιστούμε πως εμείς μπορούμε να γίνουμε καλύτεροι, πιο φωτισμένοι Άνθρωποι...
ίσως να ονειρεύομαι πολύ..ίσως να ζητάω πολλά...
ίσως όμως και τα υποτιθέμενα 'Merry Christmas' να χουνε ξεφύγει λίγο, λίγο πολύ...
Κ.
24 και 25 Δεκεμβρίου του 8
ευχαριστώ το Δημήτρη:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dimitriskyriak/
για την παραχώρηση των υπέροχων φωτογραφιών!
*ονειρεύτικα, με αφορμή συνομιλία με τον 'παλαιό΄ Σάκη.
I dreamt of a different kind of Chirstmas...(soon to be translated in English ;p)
Monday, 8 December 2008
...WHaTZ MISSING ?
i am walking back home... thinking of the troubles that I' be been into these last three months...
all these troubles which seem to me so pointless and almost shameful today
they did not seem bad when they were taking place...not bad at all I tell u!
but now i am moving
am trying to think and see!
see beyond what I can see
my soul was not there
maybe my body..maybe my mind
but I dont think my soul was there
MY SOUL WaS NOT THERE!
MY SOUL IS NOT HERE... IS IT GONE?
I should report that: I've got a MISSING ...SOUL!
K (without K)
foto: Katerina (definately without K)
Monday, 17 November 2008
ASHES
The night splintered into stars
watching me dazzled
the air hurls hate
its face embellished with music.
We will go soon
Secret dream
ancestor of my smile
the world is emaciated
and there is a lock but no keys
and there is terror but not tears.
What will I do with myself?
Because to You I owe what I am
But I have no tomorrow
Because to You I...
The night suffers.
- Alejandra Pizarnik
photo by Marieta Fuertes
http://www.plymouthfineart.co.uk/TBDSecondYears/MarietaFuertes1.html
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Friday, 7 November 2008
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
stop And experience
Took this picture
on my first (and only)night at Bath, after watching the amazing comedy walk 'Bizarre Bath'. The continuous raining during the 'bizarre'
walking tour around the city's historical attractions didn't put me off. after a drink at the Huntsman Inn I decided to head back to Edgar townhouse.
Walking rapidly into the pouring rain
feeling almost displeased with my wet feet
the only think I anticipated for was to reach my warm room.
I get this sometimes...keep my self busy with what I want to do next.
instead of keeping my senses and mind open to the present experiences.
that night it didn't take me long to get back my mind-fullness.
Bath, is a kind of place in which u can escape from many,
but not so easy to escape from present.
River Avon was singing furiously by me
turn towards it and this was revealed
the rain was so skillfully lighted up...
a surprice last-good-view over the Roman Baths eαrlier on
from...
ladies toilet window! (Really!!)
K.
on my first (and only)night at Bath, after watching the amazing comedy walk 'Bizarre Bath'. The continuous raining during the 'bizarre'
walking tour around the city's historical attractions didn't put me off. after a drink at the Huntsman Inn I decided to head back to Edgar townhouse.
Walking rapidly into the pouring rain
feeling almost displeased with my wet feet
the only think I anticipated for was to reach my warm room.
I get this sometimes...keep my self busy with what I want to do next.
instead of keeping my senses and mind open to the present experiences.
that night it didn't take me long to get back my mind-fullness.
Bath, is a kind of place in which u can escape from many,
but not so easy to escape from present.
River Avon was singing furiously by me
turn towards it and this was revealed
the rain was so skillfully lighted up...
a surprice last-good-view over the Roman Baths eαrlier on
from...
ladies toilet window! (Really!!)
K.
Lee in Devon
Monday, 3 November 2008
Aquasolis and Bath
talk to me Aquasolis
talk to me
let your mist run up to my face
and I' ll melt from your pureness
I'll run through there red rocks
I wanna be sacrificed,
Sacrifice my self to you
till this spring run
I wanna blend with these millions curses and blesses.
till I ll become a blessing
Why still people throw gold and silver
we do not live by these
neither do they,
Dead they might be, with them
or without
Talk to me my dear and let me draw
the path where your liquids run next
run reight
ruthless
warm blood
into my vain
You are the Goddess and
me the mournings
that came along the Spring
me the mournings
that came along the Spring
Katerina
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
Σύγχρονη Ανατολή- Παύλος Ξιούτας
Γιομίσαμε τις σκοτεινές
αποθήκες, κατω απ’ τη συνείδηση μας,
με απωθημένες επιθυμίες.
Μη αυτό...Μη εκείνο…αχ!ετούτο.
Όχι…Όχι…Όχι
Γίναμε νευρωτικοί ασκητές
αυτοτιμωρούμενοι,
χωρίς καν να νιώθουμε κοντα μας
την παρουσία του Θεού.
Επιθετικοί τύποι,
ενώ λαχταρούμε το ξέσπασμα
αγγαλιαζουμε τη μελαγχωλία
και τη μόνωση
και σχεδιαζουμε τις πιο απίθανες
εικόνες, για τον εαυτό μας.
Ο αυτοέλεγχος δεν μας πυρώνει
την περηφανια
και η αρνησή μας
κουρελιαζεται απο τους πόθους,
που μας προβαλλει το ασυνείδητο.
Αχ! Θεέ μου, πως θα πεθανουμε έτσι,
μ’αυτή τη θλιβερή συνοδεία
των δεσμωτών της θελήσεως
και της ευτυχίας μας;
ΕναΣ ΚΗΦΗΝΑΣ ΠΕΘΑΙΝΕΙ ΕΞΑΝΤΗΜΕΝΟΣ,
Απο τον ΕΡΩΤΑ ΜΕ ΤΗ ΜΕΛΙΣΣΑ,
ΣΤΟ ΓΛΑΥΚΟ ΧΑΟΣ Τ’ ΟΥΡΑΝΟΥ
Ασυνήθιστη αγαπη - Παύλος Ξιούτας
Ασυνήθιστη αγάπη
αγαπω τον ανθρωπο
και τον φοβαμαι.
Σε λατρεύω
και τρέμω
μήπως αρχισεις
το μέτρημα του χρόνου
και δεν καταδεχτείς
τα άχραντά μου.
Δεν θέλω τον οίκτο σου.
Λαχταρώ την ανάσταση
της ψυχής μου.
Τα δώρα μου για σένα
είναι ασυνήθιστα
για τα κοινά μέτρα
των ανθρώπων,
γιατί αυτοί μετρανε
τον έρωτα,
με την άδεια κλεδψύδρα
του χρόνου,
κι όχι με την αδάμαστη
αθανασία της ψυχής.
19/11/1974
Παύλος Ξιούτας
αγαπω τον ανθρωπο
και τον φοβαμαι.
Σε λατρεύω
και τρέμω
μήπως αρχισεις
το μέτρημα του χρόνου
και δεν καταδεχτείς
τα άχραντά μου.
Δεν θέλω τον οίκτο σου.
Λαχταρώ την ανάσταση
της ψυχής μου.
Τα δώρα μου για σένα
είναι ασυνήθιστα
για τα κοινά μέτρα
των ανθρώπων,
γιατί αυτοί μετρανε
τον έρωτα,
με την άδεια κλεδψύδρα
του χρόνου,
κι όχι με την αδάμαστη
αθανασία της ψυχής.
19/11/1974
Παύλος Ξιούτας
Saturday, 25 October 2008
recording 5
γι’ ατέλιωτες θαλασσες -----for endless seas
χανόμασταν ------------we were losing ourselves
σαν μεθυσμένοι γλαροι --------like drunk seagulls
βουτώντας στη πυρα ---------diving into the fires
μιας πορφυρής σελήνης.---------of a bloodshed
------------------------------------ moon.
Καterinα
21 οκτ.08
a Photograph of an ecstatic sunrise in Cyprus, Paralimni (July 2008).
The first words that managed to come up: Rising with the SunRise
Plymouth ου μ’ εθέσπισεν- in Plymouth where my fαte dropped me.
Open up this window
and welcome his fresh warm fingers
feel
the boiling running blood,
through Aeolos* hands
run
bright around your neck
behind
your ears
and get lost
in your seaweed hair!
Look!
a lemon-fire leaf
surrenders in his arms.
How beautifully rests
upon
the wet precious
grass.
Katerina
25 Oct 08
*Aeolos:the Greek God of wind and air
Wrote this poem at a Poetry workshop run by an amazing acclaimed performance poet
Kat Francois (to who I am grateful for reminding me to use my rich Greek background)
at the Barbican Theater in Plymouth.
more information about Kat Francois:
http://www.myspace.com/kat_francois">
for my sister- friend Marietta
love you
with more melodious stomp colors
for what you taught me
without being aware.
For what I ‘ve learned
without acknowledging.
Now the sea breeze
fresher than ever
runs and whispers
sings and dances
alongside a rhythm
we have never met before!
no need for names
Lets dive in 'amora'
and then we‘ ll count
how much mystery
can we drink.
Katerina
25 Oct 8
here is a spontaneous recording we did :
Friday, 24 October 2008
Ειν’ όμορφη η μέρα
φωτεινή,
παρόλα τα σκόρπια συννεφακια...
γλαροι περνούν που και που
ακριβώς μποστα μου...
Στο βαθος πολλύ πρασινο
σε χιλιαδες
αποχρώσεις,
εκεί στο κεντρικό πaρκο του Πλυμουθ.
Οι δρόμοι,
φαινονται ακομa
βουρκωμένοι
απ΄το κλαμα
που ποτέ
δεν ακούω τα βραδια,
ή... δεν θυμαμαι σαν ξ-ημερώσει
ίσως παλι
να’ ναι
απομειναρια
ιδρώτα
καποιου πρωινού
ερωτα
ποιός ξέρει...
KαTERINα
24 oKTWMBPH 2008
παρόλα τα σκόρπια συννεφακια...
γλαροι περνούν που και που
ακριβώς μποστα μου...
Στο βαθος πολλύ πρασινο
σε χιλιαδες
αποχρώσεις,
εκεί στο κεντρικό πaρκο του Πλυμουθ.
Οι δρόμοι,
φαινονται ακομa
βουρκωμένοι
απ΄το κλαμα
που ποτέ
δεν ακούω τα βραδια,
ή... δεν θυμαμαι σαν ξ-ημερώσει
ίσως παλι
να’ ναι
απομειναρια
ιδρώτα
καποιου πρωινού
ερωτα
ποιός ξέρει...
KαTERINα
24 oKTWMBPH 2008
Monday, 20 October 2008
Saturday, 18 October 2008
DIES SLOWLY by PABLO NERUDA
Dies slowly anyone who becomes a slave of his habits, following every day the same journey, who does not change the way he walks or does not take any risks and does no change the color of his clothes, the one who does not speak to someone that he doesn’t know/
Dies slowly…
The one who avoid the passion, the one who prefers black instead of white and the distinction marks at ‘i’ instead of a group of touching words that give a glow to the eyes, that turn a yawning into a smile, that make the heart beat at the fault and at the feelings.
Dies slowly anyone who does not turn the table up side down, the one who is not happy from his job, the one who does not risk security for the insecurity in order to hunt a dream, the one who does not allow himself at least for once to avoid following well-given advices.
Dies slowly the one who does not travel, who does not read ,listen to music nor find peace in him heart.
Dies slowly anyone who destroys his love, who does not allow to be helped by others. Who spends his time complaining for him luck or for the non-stop raining.
Dies slowly the one who abandons an idea before even stating it or the one who does not ask for what he does not know.
We avoid death in small doses, when we remember that being alive needs much more attempt from the simple fact of breathing.
Dies slowly…
The one who avoid the passion, the one who prefers black instead of white and the distinction marks at ‘i’ instead of a group of touching words that give a glow to the eyes, that turn a yawning into a smile, that make the heart beat at the fault and at the feelings.
Dies slowly anyone who does not turn the table up side down, the one who is not happy from his job, the one who does not risk security for the insecurity in order to hunt a dream, the one who does not allow himself at least for once to avoid following well-given advices.
Dies slowly the one who does not travel, who does not read ,listen to music nor find peace in him heart.
Dies slowly anyone who destroys his love, who does not allow to be helped by others. Who spends his time complaining for him luck or for the non-stop raining.
Dies slowly the one who abandons an idea before even stating it or the one who does not ask for what he does not know.
We avoid death in small doses, when we remember that being alive needs much more attempt from the simple fact of breathing.
Friday, 17 October 2008
nature whispers through photos
let thee
flow with the wind
till the eyes will be shattered
through his blinded eyes he will touch
the million colors of the sky!
Katerina
8 Oct 08
a photo of Yvan Rytz
...this picture screamed over me a full-star sky of words
your hair
as if a spider's well-crafted web
Sucking out a hurricane of not-said farewells
live it for an eternity
till no breath will dare to dive
and you 'll forget
the reason your stand
where u are.
Katerina
17 Oct 08
photo by Georgia Karaoli
Saturday, 27 September 2008
μέσα στην αστραπή
είδα το φώς
που μου καψε το βλέμα
αλλα σαν στέγνωσε το αίμα
ήξερα πως το' χα δεί
έστω και λίγο
τι να την κανω την αλήθεια
αμα δεν είναι όπως την είχα ονειρευτεί
τ' όνειρο ζητώ να' μαι' γώ
ο δρόμος που πορεύομαι
όσο και τ' όνειρο
θολός, ρομαντικός
αλλα φωτεινός μέσα στην συννεφια του
κι αφου καπου στο δρόμο οι δυό τους χώρισαν
εγώ παω με τ' όνειρο
'θα ξαναρθείς μόλις νυκτώσει
και τ'όνειρο παλι την αληθεια θα σώσει'
εκεί ειν' το φώς
κι εκεί η αλήθεια μου.
K.
photo by Katerina Kyriacou
Friday, 26 September 2008
grafw ayto pou mou'pes
gia na minei:
gia n'allaksi kaneis den xriazete thelisi.
ayto pou xriazete ine agapi
polli agapi
para polli agapi gia ton eyato tou
isws ipervoliki agapi!!!
megala logia!
polli to fws!
kαi αpo pio vrαxo
nα piαstw nα proxwrisw?
K.
gia n'allaksi kaneis den xriazete thelisi.
ayto pou xriazete ine agapi
polli agapi
para polli agapi gia ton eyato tou
isws ipervoliki agapi!!!
megala logia!
polli to fws!
kαi αpo pio vrαxo
nα piαstw nα proxwrisw?
K.
swkratis malamas - tis siwpis
mathe ti glwssa tis siwpis
ki istera ela na mou peis
pws klinete
to s'agapw
pws vgazei i erimos karpous...
allazoun dromoi kαi morfes ,
oi epoxes allazoun
ki oi apomixaneis theoi anixana koitazoun
asto parathiro anikto s'oles tis katαigides
tha deis sto fws mias astrapis osa pote den eides!
ki istera ela na mou peis
pws klinete
to s'agapw
pws vgazei i erimos karpous...
allazoun dromoi kαi morfes ,
oi epoxes allazoun
ki oi apomixaneis theoi anixana koitazoun
asto parathiro anikto s'oles tis katαigides
tha deis sto fws mias astrapis osa pote den eides!
malanas - to gramma
...thelw na rtheis kai na me vreis na ksatsis na ta vroume
pws niwthoume parafora
pws zoume etsi adiafora,...
xwris ayti ti skoteinia ta xronia menoun adeia
thelw na figeis na swtheis
na papseis na gkriniazeis
na ksexastesis sti diadromi
poios isoun kai pws moiazeis
...etsi tha s agapw poli kai tha se vlepw ligo
san mia ginaika makrini pou agapisa prin figw...
pws niwthoume parafora
pws zoume etsi adiafora,...
xwris ayti ti skoteinia ta xronia menoun adeia
thelw na figeis na swtheis
na papseis na gkriniazeis
na ksexastesis sti diadromi
poios isoun kai pws moiazeis
...etsi tha s agapw poli kai tha se vlepw ligo
san mia ginaika makrini pou agapisa prin figw...
Thursday, 25 September 2008
Lidakis- keravnos & mia diki mou antapokrisi
Pws lathepsa ton anemo ton peira gia galini
kai ta sxinia mou elisa na figw gia taxidi.
kai san ksaniktika lipon
ftera ixan ta koupia mou
o keravnos ksestrtise ki ekapse tin kardia mou.
kai prin prolavw na xarw, i trikimia m'ezwse
efiges me tin astrapi kai to taxidi teliwse
kai san ksanixtika lipon
ftera ixan ta koupia mou
o keravnos ksestratise ki ekapse tin kardia mou
***************************
Pote prolavame na ta doume ol' ayta
eithe pote min katalathw
Les ki oi theoi thimwsane
pou' xame to thrasos na doume tosa
kai na erwteytoume
ena louloudi toso parafora
mas edise ta matia i Pafia thea me porfiro mantili
ki emeis deila deila akolouthisame
perpatisame mesa s'apomera monopatia
akousame thiria na vrixontai
potamia na psithirizoune katw apo polivoua fillovola
pisw ap to porfiro mantili
idame osa den fenonte
. . .
akousame tis fwties prwtognwres na ourliazoun melodika…
ma otan anevikame
elithike to fws mesa mas
ki ekapse tin matia mas
den iperxan pollα
para mono dio erwtevmena fantasmata pou xorevan pia makria mas
thimasai ta 'dio fantasmata pou agapisan poli ayto ton kosmo kai den theloun na ton afisoun' ?
pou nα'nαi twrα ...?
kai ta sxinia mou elisa na figw gia taxidi.
kai san ksaniktika lipon
ftera ixan ta koupia mou
o keravnos ksestrtise ki ekapse tin kardia mou.
kai prin prolavw na xarw, i trikimia m'ezwse
efiges me tin astrapi kai to taxidi teliwse
kai san ksanixtika lipon
ftera ixan ta koupia mou
o keravnos ksestratise ki ekapse tin kardia mou
***************************
Pote prolavame na ta doume ol' ayta
eithe pote min katalathw
Les ki oi theoi thimwsane
pou' xame to thrasos na doume tosa
kai na erwteytoume
ena louloudi toso parafora
mas edise ta matia i Pafia thea me porfiro mantili
ki emeis deila deila akolouthisame
perpatisame mesa s'apomera monopatia
akousame thiria na vrixontai
potamia na psithirizoune katw apo polivoua fillovola
pisw ap to porfiro mantili
idame osa den fenonte
. . .
akousame tis fwties prwtognwres na ourliazoun melodika…
ma otan anevikame
elithike to fws mesa mas
ki ekapse tin matia mas
den iperxan pollα
para mono dio erwtevmena fantasmata pou xorevan pia makria mas
thimasai ta 'dio fantasmata pou agapisan poli ayto ton kosmo kai den theloun na ton afisoun' ?
pou nα'nαi twrα ...?
Συν-χώρα με
Sigxwra me
pou ola allazoun toso grigora
ki egw olo kai kapou ksexniemai
xazevontas tis ekrikseis stwn aitherwn t' arwmata.
Forgive me
for when everything moves so fast
I found my self in moments where
I just stare at the ethereal explosions of aroma.
Katerina
25 Sept 08
photos by Katerina Kyriacou
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
after nowhere
got back home
and this ''Butterfly' song still buzzes into my head
why i chose to listen to it , still haven't figure it out. . .
... a smell that you cannot sense any more
bewildered...you only can remember how it used to be
oh, the odour grasps me from the neck
and drives the soul into my throat
where the traces of this smell lay
...a smell that you cannot sense any more
its already part of your skin
and in a while part of your inner
once upon a time
it used to keep you warm
now out in the cold autumn
is not by you any more
you dont feel the difference with the remains
the odour its all over from now on
and this ''Butterfly' song still buzzes into my head
why i chose to listen to it , still haven't figure it out. . .
... a smell that you cannot sense any more
bewildered...you only can remember how it used to be
oh, the odour grasps me from the neck
and drives the soul into my throat
where the traces of this smell lay
...a smell that you cannot sense any more
its already part of your skin
and in a while part of your inner
once upon a time
it used to keep you warm
now out in the cold autumn
is not by you any more
you dont feel the difference with the remains
the odour its all over from now on
Miltiadis Pasxalidis- akoma s' agapw
Twra pou grigora niktwnei san paramithi tha sto pw
oti agapas den teliwnei ki egw akoma s'agapw
oti agapas den teliwnei ki egw akoma s'agapw
twra pu grigora vradiazei san paramithi tha sto pw
oti thimasai den vouliazi
min me ksexnas pu s agapw
oti thimasai den vouliazei
min me ksexnas pu s agapw
einai polla pou dne ta kseris
ki ithela toso na sta pw
omws den thelw na ipofereis
giati akoma s agapw
oti agapas den teliwnei ki egw akoma s'agapw
oti agapas den teliwnei ki egw akoma s'agapw
twra pu grigora vradiazei san paramithi tha sto pw
oti thimasai den vouliazi
min me ksexnas pu s agapw
oti thimasai den vouliazei
min me ksexnas pu s agapw
einai polla pou dne ta kseris
ki ithela toso na sta pw
omws den thelw na ipofereis
giati akoma s agapw
Saturday, 14 June 2008
Monday, 2 June 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)