Σάββατο, 28 Απριλίου 2012

this is the season of imagination,
this is the season where the odors are sweet
and the memories are colorful.
it is a natural extacy 
it makes me creative 
and everything make perfect sense 
all the birds are singing melodies for lovers
all the trees are celebrating their ability of standing naked through the winter 
all the rivers are becoming a place to play and not to cry .
and all the faces are beautiful because they smile.
this is the season where 
day dreaming is legal
and it's absolutely normal
to have a 3 hours conversation 
about a unicorn u saw the other day 


Παρασκευή, 13 Απριλίου 2012

and you know,
that is so majestic,mad and smooth
because is temporary
right?
i was 14 and i was fearless,
my lust for life was beyond the sky
i was risking it all for a real momment
i was a moving possitivity
and this chaotic world
have been making me feel thirsty
to explore..
to explore it all
i was burning inside out..
and this mad world was singing every night in my ear lullabies
all made of water,pure love and sky.
i couldnt help it..
i just couldnt.
so i walked on the world without shoes,
just to feel it
to get in touch
and i regret nothing,
cz every scar i have on my feet,
was worth bleeding for.
and it's been almost a decade,world,
and i may talk differently and
choose different things,
but i've never chaned what i want myself to be.
please world,
keep on lighting my fire

Τετάρτη, 4 Απριλίου 2012


Μὲς στὴν ὑπόγεια τὴν ταβέρνα
,μὲς σὲ καπνοὺς καὶ σὲ βρισιές,
(ἀπάνου ἐστρίγγλιζε ἡ λατέρνα)
ὅλη ἡ παρέα πίναμε ἐψές,
ἐψές, σὰν ὅλα τὰ βραδάκια,
νὰ πᾶνε κάτου τὰ φαρμάκια.
Σφιγγόταν ὁ ἕνας πλάι στὸν ἄλλο
καὶ κάπου ἐφτυοῦσε καταγῆς,
ὤ! πόσο βάσανο μεγάλο
τὸ βάσανο εἶναι τῆς ζωῆς
Ὅσο κι ὁ νοῦς ἂν τυραννιέται
ἄσπρην ἡμέρα δὲ θυμιέται!(Ἥλιε καὶ θάλασσα γαλάζα
καὶ βάθος τοῦ ἄσωτου οὐρανοῦ,ὤ! τῆς αὐγῆς κροκάτη γάζα
γαρούφαλλα τοῦ δειλινοῦ,
λάμπετε-σβήνετε μακριά μας,
χωρὶς νὰ μπεῖτε στὴν καρδιά μας!)
Τοῦ ἑνοῦ ὁ πατέρας χρόνια δέκα
παράλυτος - ἴδιο στοιχειὸ
τοῦ ἄλλου κοντόμερη ἡ γυναῖκα
στὸ σπίτι λιώνει ἀπὸ χτικιό,
στὸ Παλαμήδι ὁ γυιὸς τοῦ Μάζη
κ᾿ ἡ κόρη τοῦ γιαβῆ στὸ Γκάζι.
-Φταίει τὸ ζαβὸ τὸ ριζικό μας!
-Φταίει ὁ θεὸς ποὺ μᾶς μισεῖ!
-Φταίει τὸ κεφάλι τὸ κακό μας!
-Φταίει πρώτ᾿ ἀπ᾿ ὅλα τὸ κρασί!
«Ποιὸς φταίει; Ποιὸς φταίει;... κανένα στόμα
δὲν τὅβρε καὶ δὲν τὄπε ἀκόμα.
Ἔτσι, στὴν σκοτεινὴ ταβέρνα
πίνουμε πάντα μας σκυφτοί,
σὰν τὰ σκουλήκια κάθε φτέρνα
ὅπου μᾶς εὕρει, μᾶς πατεῖ:
δειλοί, μοιραῖοι κι ἄβουλοι ἀντάμα!
προσμένουμε, ἴσως, κάποιο θάμα!

η σκέψη τι είναι?
το αφεντικό η ο υπηρέτης?

http://www.lifo.gr/mag/columns/4771 - a good one