Monday, December 14, 2015

What now?

Facing great dilemmas.
Should I write a poem about this, or just blurt out my thoughts? 
Great dilemmas indeed. 
Sometimes I question if my level of insanity is actually appropriate.

I started writing this one morning, while having long conversations with a picture. 
I should also mention that "this" is not something in particular. I have nothing to say. Or everything. And I just can't put that everything in order. Or express it in a way that makes sense.
Maybe I should write about this summer. Do an overview. Yes, I haven't done that in a while.

What did I do?      What was I left with?      What did I leave behind?    Who did I leave behind?

Or maybe I should talk about the world, and what's happening to it, and how it keeps withering. 
And all the preaching that later turns into actions 
that completely contradict the preaching.

But preaching is just preaching
and actions are actions
which when not accompanied by a certain energy
and a certain continuity
they do not matter;
everything matters
there has never been consistency
in how people try to save the world
You can be 
infuriated by everything 
or completely apathetic;
everything else is madness
because in the end, 
nothing really matters
or everything does.

Monday, December 7, 2015


I held on to the dream

I fell into the dream

The day I uttered the words

I will never forget

How clear it was

But it all got lost
Under the snow
perfect little flakes
That melted away
Under our footsteps
Under the weight
Of your love

A sick fantasy
That left the soil
For so many flowers to bloom

But not from your seeds

Was it that, 
that needed to happen
And did I push myself
For what I thought was right
That night
you drowned into me

and I fell into the dream.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015


Behind the trees
is a sunset that bleeds
all over the sea
all over your face
all over my fantasies
of you
in this room
detached from everything
but me

but my darkness
and the solitude I crave
and the things I cannot say

and all the things you've heard before

But then your face;
my heart just skipped a beat
and two
and three
sometimes I'm not sure I even


Monday, October 19, 2015


Like the rain amidst the spring,
a martyr and all he promises to bring
is just a beggar dressed as king,
a key chain with a broken ring,
a wish the Erinyes sing;

No peace
Not in heaven
Not in hell
No limbo to lay still

Hunt the witch
kill the hound
burn your whole house to the ground 
Deterioration - determination
A different pawn in my possession

Don't worry;
the devil is not here tonight.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015


The darkness I spilled
And the old demons in disguise
I thought I left behind
But the ground doesn't lie
And the stains on my shoes 
And these pillars of gloom
They cannot be torn
down under
buried together with me

Fall apart
Fall apart 

And the time,
Oh the time
It stops and it starts
An unbreakable oath
I will only touch what burns 
Never take
Never keep

But you know?
Yes, I know
that the demons don't come back
if you don't ask them to. 

So, will you be the one
to shoot me first?

Thursday, August 27, 2015

The waiting game

Brief phone calls
Then the taste of alcohol on your lips
Then my lips
Then I forget
How many times did we exchange
this passion
one breath
back and forth
back and forth
back and -

Did you steal my oxygen?
Or was I missing it all along?
Am I being too blunt?
I'm sorry
It's just that it's late
And you
a part of me
I used to mock
or maybe it's that I wasn't ready before
or maybe


Tuesday, August 25, 2015


If you'll be my next door lover
You may come
and you may hover 

Worlds collide
Hearts abide
Take this madness off my mind

Rest assured
Moment's here
And I think it's pretty clear

For now in darkness I remain
waiting, sighing with the sea.

Nightly heaven raining stars
Staring at the Andalusian sky
No more wishes left to make

I don't even wish to try.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Melancholy tree

In this forsaken town 
there is a place
just follow the path
beyond the wretched tracks
at the end of the storm
a place you can be 

under the shade, the shade of the melancholy tree

Branches of sorrow
and leaves of despair
to be shed and regrown
on the melancholy tree

on the melancholy tree

When you are aching to be free
go sit, go sit by the melancholy tree
And you'll feel your sorrows rising up 

to the branches, the branches of the melancholy tree

leaving you be
leaving you be
you need nothing to see
nothing but

the shade, the shade of the melancholy tree.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Lilac bleeding lust

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

In my garden
I don't speak
I just listen
I collect

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

What I take
is what I keep
Plant again
Then I leave

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

In my garden 
you may step
I will listen 
I will collect

I will hide among the trees
Play this game and make you miss
Make you do what I don't dare

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Enough helium to keep me up all night

I wish that days remain the same, 
in a sense 
that I remain as content
and as grateful
maybe even more.

I wish that I remain untouched;
untouched by time 
and all the weight it bears;
and by the misery, oh the misery
and the Saturday night desperation
and the ghosts around me;
untouched by loneliness

I wish that I always remain unrestrained, unsettled,  un - envious of however much others have. 

I wish that days remain the same,
because I do not have the need to think about
how they could be better days ahead
I cannot imagine
such a thing. 

Even though they always get better.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

And the sky turned purple

The feeling slowly fades away. Next is the calm. 
Is it a never ending valley? 
Or just a bridge?
Can I dance on it?
Or will I go mad again, once I cross it?
Was it a cry for help?
Or the beginning of a connection?
Was I begging for escape?
Or for your approval?
Was I smitten by my excitement?
Or was it really you?
Is this the end?
Or just a bridge?

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Nick Cake

My newest obsession is some silly, overpriced, fake brioche thingy. 
I was listening to Nick Cave, and now I'm listening to Taylor Swift. I also accidentally wrote Nick Cake and now I am laughing alone. I also came to the conclusion that it was an apt title for this. This is such a wrong thing to do right now.
I have been embracing life lately, big time. Lemons and all. I feel ridiculously grateful and kind of annoying.
Yesterday a friend asked me what a human is, and I told him that we are all moon dust trapped in a body. 
We were formed when the dust collided with the soil, a long time ago, a day the moon sneezed.

So, in retrospect, what do you have to worry about? We are all moon snot after all.

Special thanks to my friend who came up with "moon snot".

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Galactic limbo

There is a door

sometimes I peek through

sometimes I dare to open
and drag out this box
filled with all that's left undone
but I cannot seem to bare
the weight
the never ending pile,
so I hide it back
and I guard it well;
I care
that it doesn't get lost 
that other people won't touch it
and distort its form
which still fits

or that it doesn't stain
what I chose;

as we add little pieces to it;

our own Venus 

that always comes second
and I wonder
when will we go for the moon?

Wednesday, July 8, 2015


Since there's been too much art here lately (even rhyming) I decided to fuck it up. Because I haven't ranted in a long time.

A book on why I do things the way I do them. Because you're stupid, done, no need to waste pages.

I don't understand the phrase "and then life happened". I mean I understand it sounds cool and I must have used it myself in the past, but I don't understand why it's always being used for something negative, like... what was happening before that negative thing? How do we call that? Why do I need to know that? Who cares? What..?

I feel very weird saying something that contains the words "my whole life, in my life etc.". When is the appropriate age to start saying that without sounding... you know, not old enough to say that. I should put a question mark there, but I feel like it takes away something. And I just learned that "question mark" is a two-word word. Word. Woooord.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the cartoon, is probably my favorite movie. 
I could be a more serious person. I could also be a less serious person.  
I am neither.

I'm going to bed. 

This gargoyle looks like a monkey. That's what I think.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Open the door

I love to steal these little pieces of other people's realities. These irreversible  moments of raw honesty. 
Their discomfort. 
Their awkwardness. 
Their smile. 
The way they look at me.
Moments that seem untouched by pain. 


Then, when time stops. I seek these moments. The ones that will scar me forever.
No matter how simple.

I could make this rhyme, or say something really pretentious and poetic.

But then it wouldn't be effortless.

Thursday, June 18, 2015


If you come with me
You are to be trusted
with the greatest burden of all
a life I do not want
and I do not appreciate
and I therefore have to give to the whole world
and not to you
Because you are to be my core
That will replenish the energy
that gets stolen

There is no madness in my mind
Just in my heart
So inadequate to embrace
all that I want.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015


The things on my desk. I don't know where they go. Where can I fit all those things?
My mind is like my desk. Uninviting, unsafe... unreliable. 
I had a plan, which got interrupted, like it always does. 
And then I had a choice. 
I could make a new plan. A plan I would not have to carry on my own. A plan that would regenerate the light that I have nowadays lost. A plan that would briefly make me escape. But I can't escape. I always find myself wanting to work it through. But you can't work through what I have. Or maybe you can, but I don't think I can. Because I always find myself flirting with these ideas that I claim I have overcome. But do you really ever get over it? I don't think you do.

And what I try to deny is that maybe, just maybe, what I, still, really want to escape, is life itself. For I can embrace its simplicity and its complexity all at once, and it becomes so overwhelming and fulfilling, that everything else seems small. So small that I can overcome it without effort, and reach this state which I do not know how to share with the rest of the world, or maybe I do not want to share. And I've tried, and I never come through. 
So where do I fit in?

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

It will stop. Right?

The echo
the echo
and the aftertaste on my tongue
and what you leave behind

I spilt the drink

on my new dress
on my new dreams
the echo,
the echo

Everything around me is

The music is too loud
and the echo
the echo

I think,

I need a bigger knife,
to kill the strangers in my head
and the echo.

Friday, May 22, 2015

No rewinding, no rewriting

You touched my soul
ever so lightly
A pain that I craved
ever so slightly
A feeling I kept
ever so tightly
A fire that burned

ever so brightly.

what I tried to resew
you made it regrow.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Cut through

You are a star that fell asleep.

Always sad and always eerie.
From your slumber I grew weary.

You would sometimes wake up briefly, 

just to light this constellation 
made of promises and dust
and a love that was unjust.

Always sad and always eerie.

From your slumber I grew weary.

And in this playground that you made
within yourself, for me to wade
in this imaginary shade
there I made the biggest trade.

Always sad and always eerie.

From your slumber I grew weary.

Now I remember,

the bluest stars are the ones that burn the most.

Monday, February 23, 2015


What matters is the connection.
If there is something to be shared.
Can you really trap people between the concepts of beauty, gender, zodiac signs, heritage?
Can you see beyond?
Can you see the essence of the person?
Can you touch it?
Can you kiss it?
Can you dance with it?

That's what matters.

Monday, February 9, 2015


It's weird, it feels like a step backwards.
My anxiety is not very noticeable anymore, but it has become very psychosomatic... if I can call it that (I don't know, I'm greek, whatever).
I'm trying to pour my heart out, see what happens.

I always get caught up in this trivialness of life.

People say all sorts of silly things in order to feel good about themselves. And when they finally feel good, the new trend comes along, about the universe and our insignificance. 

I believe everything is insignificant so it doesn't really "hit me". People have no context. It's like a movie with bad actors and no script. It couldn't go well. It doesn't. But it doesn't matter.
We are dogs chasing our tails.

I know that everything I do will amount to nothing.

Not even my own happiness.
But I will do it anyway.
Which is controversial.

Just like everything else.

Credits to:

Tuesday, January 6, 2015


The night is old. Old and rotting. You can see it in people's faces. In the way they kiss, in their music, in their drinks, in the way they pretend they don't care.
You can do whatever you want in your life.
As long as it makes a lot of money,
as long as it's socially acceptable,
as long as it's prestigious,
as long as it's what your parents expect of you.
Haunted by the ghost of opportunity.

Go dance your morbid dance. I refuse to move. 
And when it's my turn to get the drum, I will break it into a million pieces.