A short possibly unfinished poem of the senses

Photo by Wesley Balten on Unsplash

Breaths colliding till the early dawn
while the night wore her thick black gawn
Born was God of this holy fire
like fugitives they run
to the temple of Desire

©Vicky Prokopi

De profundis

Photo by WJ foto on Unsplash

So here I am, dearests!
and delivered
back to your doormat
after a decade of hide and seek.
In case of damaged condition
you can return it.
After all,
you should be familiar
with the scars it bears

Am available now pa,
ready to hang me on your achievements wall
among your rest accomplishments?
There is a golden nail there
patiently waiting
to crucify me
if you don’t want to mark
the pure white colour,
attach me
to your key holder
next to your fancy collection
of cars and houses

Ma, I don’t detest your food Opening my…

Warning: This is not a happy story

by Stefano Pollio, published in Unsplash

Oh the horror,
the horror of life.
Swirling in life aimlessly
like plastic balloons
colorful and fluffy we begin
air blown in our guts
by the universe’s mysterious endeavors.

Like aliens, extra-terrestrials
marching to the crusade with broken crosses
marching to the Ηoly Unknown
poisoning each other with Christ’s blood
served in a tin grail
flooded with hope.

Oh the horror,
the horror of death.
Οur only absolute truth.
Hanging above us
like the Sword of Damocles
patting our fears in the back
The fear,
oh the fear!
Of loss
Sweeping away the castles we built
in this moving sand.

One of the most inspiring and personal pieces I ve read from you Tre. You are the sun, the center of your solar system! So happy about you, you inspired me :)

Chorus excerpt from the ancient play by Euripides, Medea, translated from the modern Greek version (G. Cheimonas) by Vicky Prokopi

Photo by nikko macaspac on Unsplash

Love’s greatest malevolence
you tear Mens’ lives apart.
With bleeding hands from the doomed fight
The ones who loved

But the Goddess’ subtle
gentle touch
The ones who loved
for the rest of their lives.

Oh my Lady, please
Your arrow, your golden arrow
I beg you! May you never
point it at my troubled soul
With its lethal, vicious point
soaked in the fresh blood of desire.

Blessed may be Gods’ holy wisdom that guards me from hurting the one I love Ηail you spell, of furtive loves From the ashes of virgin lovers save me, from…

I open my window
to breathe
But the bricks of our memories
start falling on my head,

Ain’t you the strong
Jogging around the corners of
our past,
I talk to
your shadows
as I always used to.

You gave me so many reasons
to fail you
I gave you so many reasons to




Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Once more we sit
on the same table
with our smiles hanging on the tree
and our plastic hearts
flashing aimlessly in the dark

When the night comes
i find myself sitting in the sink
to clean the dirt but
not even the pureness of the water
can wash away
the thoughts

The hearts! The hearts!
Watch out!
Save them from the waste
we made
They will lose their color
and it’s too late
to recycle

Vicky Prokopi

Writing as a need for existing. Inspired by emotions, people and music, I write about anything that makes my soul dance.

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