Saturday, August 28, 2010

another official review of my book

Throwing Dice On A Chessboard

Christos Tsiailis

ISBN: 9781449081119


Reviewed By Karynda Lewis

Official Apex Reviews Rating: ****

Regardless of whatever difficulties we may face, we all have the power to

shape our own fates. No matter how insurmountable our situations may seem, we

are equipped with all the necessary mental, physical, and spiritual tools we need

to overcome the obstacles that block our paths on the road of life. The only

problem? Whether or not we have the strength of faith to empower us to endure.

Such is the central premise of Throwing Dice On A Chessboard, the new

collection of short stories by author Christos Tsiailis. Throughout the pages of his

collection, Tsiailis introduces the reader to seven different characters, each facing

his/her own unique challenges. Far from superhuman icons, Tsiailis’ protagonists

are average, everyday figures to which readers are sure to relate, each with the

power to transform him/herself for the better – or worse. Just as we all are every

day, the characters in Throwing Dice On A Chessboard are faced with the everchanging

vicissitudes of life, and the ultimate success or failure of their efforts rests

on their individual abilities to heed the cosmic ebb and flow that perpetually

sways all of our actions. As such, Tsiailis’ insightful tome is drawn straight from the

pages of everyday life, particularly when it comes to the significance of the

ongoing battles we wage against the demons within us all. An enlightening read.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Everything Ends Up in my Pan

The worm that chewed on the soil that fed the tomato plant.

The bee leg that stole the pollen from the bouquet which has fallen in the lentil pack.

The scrupulous mule that licked the mushrooms; they are still moist with his saliva.

Your idea of a hand on an apple is boiling in this pan next to mine.

The incentive of the cook without eyes chopping the mint for the meatballs.

The passionate mosquito, suicidal, in love with his cruel mistress, forgotten in the rice.

Her fingertips on the frozen vegetables.

My mother’s careless traces on the grass I cut this morning.

My dad’s hair on my sister’s clothes as she is mixing the dough.

The breath of the shark passing by the school of smelt,

the smell of foreign blood in my pan.

Hippocampus woman kissing devoted husband on the belly; their egg inside the mackerel.

The dust of the fossilized starfish billowing near my wheat crop.

The seaweeds you washed off your feet last summer in Hawaii, in my spirulina dust

The salt from the one drop of water that drowned all my country in the Britannic.

The sugar that caused my diabetes death

from the cane that roofed the hut which three hurricanes did not take down.

You see, everything ends up in my pan and I fry the pain and fear with joy.

Burning jasmine

(because i sometimes write bullshit love poems)

I wanna give you give you give you

So I take everything back and cook

I wanna give you give you give you

Oh, I take the sun blue tack and broom

I wanna give you give you give you

So I take the yellow leaves and sew

Oh, I wanna give your dreams some lag

Obstacles lenses flammables

My fire will be enough.

I wanna give you give you give you

So I ask my room some favour

I wanna give you give you give you

Oh, I move the moon cast forth and bloom

I wanna give you give you give you

So I collect nocturnal jasmine seeds

Oh, I wanna glitter little thoughts inside

Nyx, Zorya, undress your veils

I wanna see your skin.

Because you asked me to give you everything

Here, it is what I have most precious.

A rare Japanese flower burning on my naked palm.

Oh, no, no! Don’t leave me… don’t go!

Oh, please take it… nooooo!

Oh, shame, what is left now of this wonderful pledge

is two shadows cast to opposite sides of a village

which would never comprehend mark, loss and Hara-kiri.

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