Breathe humid, old, frightening

Echoes when there is no sound....
My palms flat on the ancient stones
wringgled to my sanctuary...

I am fighting...

PHOTO   ARGYRO TSOURTI

Nobody who has not lived in secrecy

appreciate  its addictive powers
Nobody who has renounced the secret world
recovers the deprivation....

Longing for the inner life is unendurable ....

We dream of the secret hush ....
Chu

rch air is like no other.... 

HEEDLESS OF THE NIGHT AND RAIN- John BAKALIS-2017

He face was stony

even paler than before
Her fingertips trembling
I've been too bloody glib
and i' m going to pay for it.....

In the spirit of old comradership....

My years were singing
I heard screaming, then sobbing
Then the groaming of the wind
A storm was getting up
An autumn snowfall
Tonight a veritable sea storm
slapping the shutters whistling in the eaves
I stand at the study window
watching the raindrops
slash across the glass...
I peere into the blackness

A white hand tap tapping on the window pane.....
in the conventional lover's bower....

  

The lights are below us...

Beyond them lies the sea...
Stars and a half moon
make a nursery window
of the sky
A windscreen
Long eyelashes and full lips
An air of reckless daring
and highborn purpose
greatly undears her

I realize that i have to step out of the ring

to be forgotten.
We are two destiny seekers
talking stock of one another.

Not in as many words...
the same old creamy look in your eyes...
know where to reach me...
Which  extension i am speaking from
I am lovesick
thinking that an eternity is reckoned
There's a lifetime in a secomd....
Wondering where i read it...
I can not prepare my tone...

I am ringing late...
playing silly buggers....


PHOTO   ARGYRO TSOURTI

She smiles her scampish self

deprecating smile.
Scampish she shadow of the sun hat
making a mystery
of her upper face.
A thing she knows perfectly well.
Turn beauty, turn.

Their two smiles connect
and light each other.
Hers quizzical
His less confident of its reception.

Gracelessness a sign of virtue....

Grey buildings, bloody cold
Smelled as the truth welled up
in a world without faith
or ''antifaith''....

Blandly....
I am not good at dates....
I am not the ''good kid'' of the neighbourhood...