kernel, reflections

though the fact that they were terrible did not mean that they were necessarily truthful

Month: January, 2016

so she went into the cold dark night    her hair wet
her body not too dressed
full of anticipation
of the hours before her;
musics&colours&smiles&perfurmes           love lingering in the air
as she kissed friends&enemies hello        ready to give herself
herself,all of it
to him
she’d heard his music was made for her

many onces in a poem

once i realized im the fire       that scorched the land to build it anew       once
i was young&wordless         my spirit broken into a million little pieces   scattered in narratives that werent mine    once i found refuge in loving a mask         madly     then a force so strong pushed me against the rocks but the sea failed to keep me in     once i glued a broken glass        now its an unbreakable diamond slab     once i laughed at the bullets left in deserted houses       i told them i shared pasta with the enemy        with our bellies full he was the enemy no more        once the mirror whispered i love you with all your history&flaws   &then i loved my country with all its histories&flaws   once i crossed a border into the silence of a buffer zone     eager to listen to children playing      i promised id dance till the streets stirred with life       once i felt a paddle of words grow into a flowing river daring me to litter blank pages with letters           once my soft voice pierced a room full of people           once someone told me a turk is a turk       a greek is a greek        once he read a poem                                       it said a cypriot is a cypriot.


my future in shapes of circles and staircases in dark brown coffee dregs
a narrative coming from a wise mouth says theres a halo over my head
ζιβανία burns my throat helps me dream of παππού and εβίβας with friends we bid farewell his life i find in old books that smell of times when smiles were never doubted my hymn echoes when i cross i smell vougemvilia

i say kvafe she says kvafe
we are home

my neighbor doesn’t remember my name

gone are the days when he would smile and shout Good morning pretty one come over for coffee listen your dog was out last night when are you getting married was that your boyfriend last night will we go partying up in the mountains in the summer look at my little one she says you’re her big sister is your mamma ok now we’re getting old κόρη Βαλεντίνη

i wave everytime i pass by my childhood self waves back she’s standing right behind him she says you’re here you’re here you’re here she’s too young too understand how fragile memory is how the loss of it means loss of self how painful it is everytime i pass by i wave and he waves back and then he asks

who’s that?