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!
Self-packed
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
Οr
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 mouth…


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 :)

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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