Poems, Aristianna Voureka

Charlie, a prose poem

I know this guy, Charlie. I met him wearing high wasted shorts, long white socks, accessorized with precious constant rolling eyes, irony, “who cares”, and vacant stares. Asked “what’s up?” and he said “idealism sits in prison so I’ll be the boss now”. His teachers said “his smart and chatty, yet tends to hide outside his own door sometimes…” Like a mother camel looks at the hunchbacked humps of her child and not her own. He is a know-it-all and can be pushy yet I once heard him say “I promise another version of me will be kinder”.

Lord is he honest, sitting back and watching the world walk by. On our old dates he called me crazy, danced in rhythm of blues and insulted my parents. Now, cut clean from the dream, he looks up from the cigarettes, steals my ex’s, dances in rhythm to ‘Johnny keep walking’, and insults me instead.

Yet I keep up with his bullshit cause he is my Charlie. My Charlie who embarrasses me, picks on me and makes me feel uncomfortable. But oh does he burn, like rum on fire. Makes me walk my days on wire, but blood is clean and sings soothingly like a choir. Calls of guilt he throws at me, so powerfully, just like he throws with the arm of his brothers.

But I want it, it might be a crime…but open arm or closed fist would be just fine. Fight, and fury—so fiery— but sweet, right and merciful. I am all but washed away in every new tide of his breathing.

He awakes the sleeping dragon, and doesn’t mind getting burned. We soon find we have a few choices but not Charlie…he has one.

He sits for hours; staring into open flames… mumbling prayers. Because he might embarrass us, pick on us, makes us feel uncomfortable, but he is our Charlie.

The dragon lord that started the fire, hummed the truth and isn’t afraid…

Because he knows he is not alone. Deep within he knows we all have a Charlie, waiting to be accepted.

All we have to say is:
“Je suis Charlie”

Burning in the land of the Nile

Nostalgia creeped in like a mist and sung
faint lights from un-fuelled souls; wallowing, waiting, wondering
A picture found within a stranger’s frozen hand
bodies yearning land to whither in
I found it in the lines of a poem, within the blanket of silver lining
swallowing this entire ocean the map of the world changes within me
The winds will continue to burn in the land of the Nile and the smoke will keep on following the sky
Yet that’s when within you a goddess will be born, and I will pay with the sea to get a look
At night I will be the spring of hope
bargaining those mystical eyes, I will pay with all the seasons I can treasure
The moon…picking through the raven dark clouds, makes one wonder
What can it be like to grow under a sky of vanishing cold?
What is it to be embarrassed without a sin?
This is what shatters the dust, brushes the shore, foams with holiness…I call its name until
the fever breaks, yet the sky remains so dark it hums.
An awful noise fills the air…I hear the scream in those waves somewhere.
A woman’s voice,
a white dress with empty hands
speaking no word, thereupon stood like a queer bird.
All this time I tried to save the life…I never had.
Forgetting all prayers of joining you, I clutch my life and wish it cares.
And then,
like a book ends
a baby stops crying and a pen stops upon a page…
I knew.
From Eve’s rebellion to the moonlight right here many more years
I’ll bare…knowing
I found something in this sea somewhere

Run for me (pantoum)

Dark, brown, soaked, welcoming;
The night thick; weak hands carrying its name.
Bone exposed, innocence screamed whispers.
You could never feel this story

The night thick; weak hands carrying its name
Where are the daisies? Keep them covered
You could never feel this story
Run this time

Where are the daisies? Keep them covered
Race until you feel your lungs beating
Run this time
Slithering in the night; familiar like this mirror years ago

Race until you feel your lungs beating
Bone exposed, innocence screamed whispers.
Slithering in the night; familiar like this mirror years ago;
Dark, brown, soaked, welcoming.

Her Eyes

What is there to find, what is there to look for? Better ask what is worth in you dear; preying on lust sufficed better for any man than unreal warmth.
These days seem to be illuminating days, filled with light. Like light peeking in a dark room, alone or not you will love them. Killing you softly.
Like these burning hellish masks with lifeless corpses of old constructions washed in perdition. That kind of rain will fall and clean the last 50 years of destruction from our bones.
A train creating fluffy clouds almost alive going to an imaginary land won’t even save us now. For our senses have fooled us, the smell of gasoline never left.
The corn falls like molten gold on top of the lands to glister in front of our eyes, like a fallen angel. An unspoken treasure.
Dots , lines, rails, roads, alleys all leading to the same point.
All you have is lust for life itself. Don’t ever tame those demons; drink them up like wine, wanting to spend eternity with them like a lover.
The spirit from within burns flesh, inside out; or does this part of life use batteries itself?
However clothes cloak the disturbance, all which is left is the smoke of the flesh to rebel against this taming.
Do you hear anything? What happens when every music tone changes?
This black, gloomy, mystic cloud is a mother and doesn’t need church to tell its sins. For it bears sons and daughters from its glistering diamond pieces. Amen, you can sharpen your knife now.
Engulfing and digesting this unsure horizon, as the flowers bloom in the night for imaginations well being. We expose ourselves.

Father, Be Honest

Why do we have a few choices?
Why can’t we look sun in the eye?
Why is there a place we need to reach? What is wrong with the one I am at?
Why won’t he look down at me? For he is so calm when he sees me burn, why does this hurt?
Am I in a jar? Am I going insane? What makes us human, pain?
Did he come out of a religious painting or was he always around these slums?
Do I need to go to church? Can’t I laugh at a funeral? Was a born sick or was a turned into this? If the heavens spoke would I be their last word?
Death being a good girl doesn’t feel guilt does she? She must be very innocent, doing all daddy tells her, what a coward.
In the madness of this, only then I envy no one, only then I am clean father. Let me give you my life father, maybe then I will be your good girl too.
Test my patience…I will feel all the spaces I promise. If I gave you control would you see it?
Don’t you think change is amazing father? No?
I hope you find a way to be yourself someday…I pray for the best in you. I wish you could be honest with me. Why you stick around if you don’t want to be burned?
Don’t hesitate, you must agree father that flames are what you were looking for just like me.
Am I wrong? Father I thought you were honest with us, why would you judge?
If you kissed fire I know you’d like it as well, so I’ll pray for you. Cause in weakness or in strength isn’t change still amazing?

The Keeper
As there…it sits and stares,
And I walk through this forest path
It mocks me but yet it cares

Trees in front, trees behind, no difference
For compare
My forest journey never ends
As there…it sits and stares

For every unfair victory, I carve this path
Unaware
These eyes shall repay me with loss:
It mocks me but yet it cares

Self Portrait

Look at you there;
Probing through the wilderness,
Making a path through the wasteland.
You won’t find it.
Hunt for something you truly clamor,
A fairytale in this breezy jungle
Or a secure costume.
Trust me, that is what you desire…so shoot ahead.
Leave no crumb for the rest,
Along with no notes for music;
Uproot every aromatic flower till there is no spring
And gather all the awareness left, in that box.
Shape yourself like a wrought sword
And change your presence to that of a warlord

Give me time

Some days ago I used to play to waste my time,
But those were days of a different kind.
And lately I’ve been calling them;
Though, “give me time” is all I manage to say.

And I try, I swear, to fly that high,
But these chains are too strong; and it’s cold out there!
My wings are too small! And if I do wake up…my eyes may not open right!
Though, “give me some time” is all I can plead for.

Tell me, do you feel guilt?
Do you remember your lighthearted days?
But all I hear is, “hush, don’t say things that make others blush.”

I know now we are all under this upper hand, shadowed by fake light.
And please, call me a coward!
Because, “give me time”, is all I say.

Day and Night

Dark skin and irradiant eyes
Tribute perfection to thee pale face
As it falls, you arise
Hitherto we both interlace
Stardust swirls between us both
Yet I see you distant
Racing for each other; I make an oath!
Yet declaring us both resistant
Maybe you create the space
So we two loath the other
Till we envision with disgrace
We both were born by a mother
So seize, that we shall never be apart
And treasure each other’s beating heart

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