med’s blue

le blu

i’ve seen the breeding sun

burn-off your clothes

at the cretan sea


when the poet fell from the

icarian wings

a feather in the cap of apollo’s

wish to keep me reporting

the miracle of love at first sight

while driving up and down

seashores at makrigiallos and

passes to pefki and the place

where kazantzakis showed me

a welcome praise for visiting

his memorial home.

have I found what makes a poet

into a poet? –

it’s been people

people believing in freedom

and in more than that

as entailed in one word:

eleftheria –

i’ve learned

miss it since seven years

but as you can’t put your foot

into the same river twice

the gift of detailed memories

such as a powerful eye of a


longing for the med’s blue

piercing trident into my flesh

spurts of white blood still

bind the soul to land and

sea/ sand/ and ashes/ red clay/

and polished pebbles painted/

beads to play/

faded memories.





One thought on “med’s blue

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