One – Around a poem in 80 words


You stopped in the surroundings of the word

Retraced the steps of fortune, fame and status

You felt a lot, but thinking is your lord

Your soothing, silent, painful hiatus


Across the sea, a letter-bearing breeze

Foresaw the birth and death of all your children

While you were bound by a perpetual lease

To find the one vocation that was built-in


But nothing stayed and everything remained

As you were piggybacking on submission

Meaninglessness once again prevailed

Relentlessness without intermission


Two – The wheels of History


The wheels of history are turning

And daily news is always too late

My eagerness for more and more is burning

(It seems the world has only room for fate)


I learned from my forefathers that what matters

Is serve the things that are bigger than me

But I am only interested in patterns

(My inner yearning is to set you free)


The weight of blood and flesh upon my shoulders

Is heftier than what you could imagine

So I can’t be reduced into some folders

(Cause I’m the writing coming out of margin)


History flows until one day: eruption!

Mayhem, slaughter, chaos; then new order

Continuity is depending on disruption

(Like music from a broken tape recorder)


But I’m on wheels and therefore I am rolling

Towards a destiny to be fulfilled

The Leader won’t be named via polling

(The Leader we will all together build)

Three – Accidentally friends


We think we’re all alone

Until they have us sit next to each other

In classrooms

In buses

In parks

In dark corridors where everything smells like death

Word by word, look by look, little shock by little shock, the truth is revealed

There is no place for lies in our eyes, in our hearts and minds

And time is running from high to low, like a mute waterfall

But we don’t care

We open the window as often as we can

To let in some fresh air

We live to live

Not to be granted with permission to live


An accident brought us together

An accident made us friends

The accident of existence

The accident of beauty

The accident of love

An accident reveals the truth

There is no truth


Four – Tradition and the New


I know where I come from

I know where I am

I wonder where I’m heading to

But I know it’s been done


My house is big and old

Some call it mausoleum

It’s full of secrets and surprises

Unlike any museum


Dead people talk to me

All night and all day

I just talk to myself

This is the game I play


Planning, controlling and assessing are notions of the mind

The forward-looking detective that misses what’s behind

And bound by time pushes me to look for what is new

To find the gem that will enchant the many and the few


My mind has good intentions

I never doubted that

But my heart’s in the tensions

Under the Wizard’s hat


So, tell me, really, do you think that any past will do?

And do you think that any future is going to see us through?

And is the present that we’re living always something new?

Or is it just the same old trickster’s fake and stale debut?


Tradition is a sandy beach

And we are all the waves

Our union is a cosmic breach

The brave new flame that saves


Five – I’ll be waiting


I’ll be waiting

When my dreams evade me

When I’m hopeless

When I’m hopeful and nothing happens

When, day after day, you’re not there

I’ll be waiting

When spring is cold and half-hearted

When it seems that winter is never going to end

When your eyes are soaked in tears

When my eyes see everything as a threat, a disturbance or a reason to give up

I’ll be waiting

Yes, I’ll be waiting

But I’m not going to pray

I’m not going to beg

I’m not going to negotiate anything with anyone

I’m not going to compromise

I’ll just be waiting

And waiting

And waiting

A ladder in the void

Does it go up?

Does it go down?

It doesn’t matter

I’ll be waiting

The leaves from the trees will fall

I’ll be waiting

The shore will be eaten by the waves

I’ll be waiting

Things will merge with one another

People will look all the same

I’ll be waiting

The lights at night will seem so far away

And, one by one, they will be turned off

I’ll be waiting

There will be no news

There will be no talking

There will be no thinking

No feeling

No sensing

But I’ll be waiting

Under the sun, nobody will be left to take care of the soil

The water will be boiling helpless

And the wind will have no one to whistle to anymore, no place to blow into

I’ll be waiting, though

I’ll be there

Body and heart and mind

One burning altar

Nothing else

I’ll be waiting


Six – Love and Death


Your face shines like a million suns

Eternity is in your eyes

You would seduce the chastest nuns

And at your sight, cripples would rise


You draw me closer all the time

I’m not afraid to let you kiss me

You are what is truly sublime

Before I know you, you’ll dismiss me


How could I really ever begin

To speak about all these impressions

That you have left upon my skin

And led me to unconfessed transgressions


You lurk between joy and sadness

You’re always at a close distance

You are the cure to life’s madness

Why then all this foolish resistance?


My life is yours, yours is this game

Until we touch, I will be formless

You set the rules, you are to blame

For me being forever homeless


Before the start, after the end

In between, your territory

I sleep and dream, you never bend

Embracing you, I find true glory


Alex Exarchos

May 2017