Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Peripheral Shine

I cannot count the facets of the dominant diamond; this bracelet has too many stones,

which are the real, where are the fake ones?

I cannot control the colours, I struggle

-the shroud-

The light around submerges into this dimension and engulfs my oxygen

-the gnome-

I forget the linearity of the rainbow.

Is this particular shine malfunctioning?

Does darkness interfere?

The bracelet tightens around the wrist.

Twenty-five deep slashes of my flesh, will they flash me out?

I cannot count the facets of the whole, my eyes are ravened,

the pain indorses,

where’s the neck?

where’s the body?

Shouldn’t this hungry paleness of the skin absorb the glorious periphery of danger?

Diamonds should be worthier for fewer facets.

-I would say-

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

No drunks in the pub on entry.

He was a celebrity. I am pretty sure he was one. Can’t you remember how they did not show him on the news, and how the newspapers did not reveal his real identity?

Aah, and the gossip shows, at noon, how could they not even try to speculate or give hints about who he was? But I have to write his story. I just have to. Or should I write…her story? I am not really sure if it was a man or a woman. The facts will undoubtedly reveal the gender of the doer. At some point, they will I am sure. But even if they don’t, it will still be a very interesting story. So here it goes…

On a sunny day, really hot for the time of the year, a man… ehm, someone was walking the path down kakopetria to meet another person. The reason for their meeting has not yet been revealed by the police, and I don’t think it ever will. This is where I base my assumption that the woman – or man is a celebrity. Suddenly the figure started running. At the beginning it was a calm run, perhaps that of a rush. But then it grew faster, those legs started moving very fast. This person was young, definitely young, all this energy to run away, not to mention the actual deed. Which was to… Well I am still not confident I have the whole picture of the murder, but it is easy to find out, asking here and there… So I will still remain out and about the actual narration until I get more information about the facts.

The rain on the stone path did not intimidate the runner the least. A steady pace fast run towards the small bridge and then to the left… or to the right? Or is the bridge to the right but the person headed left and up again to the Mills? Well, as it is irrelevant to the story as we don’t know where and who this person was meeting with, we can leave it there.

Frenzy. A master run in the rain and then… oh, ehm, I did say it was a sunny and very hot day before, eh? Ah, well, forget that point. It was a normal day, not too much heat and no rain at all. So let’s stick to the main facts. I will call the station and get right back to you with more information.

…Hey, here I am again. If I remember well I was beginning my novel and had to learn some more about this murder before I continued. So, where did I leave it, guys? Aah, I remember… it was at the point where Agatha was… Aah, yes, now I remember more! I was telling you that I wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman? Well, now I have full details! It was a woman. But unfortunately she wasn’t a celebrity but a tourist. So, as I was saying, as she was sitting in Agros square, someone came to meet her. Another woman probably, someone who was travelling with the protagonist of this massacre.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Birth of a thirty-year-old virgin


The island of Cyprus has always kept its secrets

Guilty words of little kids, sentences of the elder,

in sealed lips they were trapped of sovereign crowds.

The story we are about to tell took place in a Mesaoria village

but the wind that blew along

took it to all the island’s cape legs.

A mother and a father both in unity and agreement

Have kept their only daughter jailed

in their backyard

In an adjacent barn

This started when she was fourteen, indeed an innocent child

But she sincerely fell for the village’s most admired guy.

They eloped in secrecy to be together away of all

But it was no time until Eleni’s father caught her

And in one night from midnight to dawn he

-killed Sophocles with an axe-

-and beat Eleni to the brink of death-

-and locked her in the barn taking out the goats-

Eleni forgot everything from the same moment

They even say she suffered amnesia from the hits

And in the barn she knew nothing of who she was

Or why she was there,

Or of her soul’s torment.

The barn had been her little world, of hay for a nap

Of little food like beans and fried legumes

Of little light from a tiny window

and Bible tales from her mom.

There were no chains around her ankles,

No rinks around her wrists,

Just a half-kilo padlock outside the one metre door.

Window on the door and rust had been Eleni’s friends,

And as the rust was coming in, expanding on the inside,

“What are you?”

Eleni’d ask

-But no answer-

She imagined a snug dust of hope.

-But -

the shimming smells of the carnations invading every morning

Were no friends of hers, as they disturbed her gothic fiction.

In her immaculate riddles she always answered back to the world outside

with her smell of the enclosure

Familiar smells, of mold, waste and ammonia.

-years had passed-

Than the priest started suspecting of all these twenty years later,

when all the neighbours knew

And all agreed -but one- that it was best for all

That she was kept inside.

Sophocles had a trusted friend

Who took an oath for revenge

And that Eleni would be free

To live and love somebody.

He was the one who made the priest suspect

When all the others had been tricking him

about all the smells and cries,

about the secrecy of 13, Acheloou Str.

With him the kids sometimes made up sounds

like the ones Eleni made

But they were always told off by their fathers

And so the story went on,

Until one day eleni heard a passing Caravan

Announcing a children’s play of three acts.

Scene one:

(In the barn, mother outside unlocking the door in difficulty, the padlock is very heavy)

Eleni: (weakly) Mum, is it you, mum?

Mother: Yes, hold on a second to get this lock down, if I break it your dad’s gonna kill us both!

Eleni: did you bring me food?

Mother: Yes

Eleni: and milk?

Mother: yes

Eleni: what food?

Mother: beans

Eleni: again?

Mother: it’s Friday. We fast.

Eleni: Mum, you know I don’t like beans.

Mother: You always eat them.

Eleni: I don’t like beans!

Mother: You always eat them and you never complain!

Eleni: I don’t like beans at all! (intensely) I hate them!

Mother: no you don’t! You don’t hate them! I watch you eat them every time with such passion!

Eleni: I heard something today…

Mother: What is it with you today?

Eleni: (repeating in internal tone and moving her head back and forth) I heard something today, I heard something today, I heard something today, I heard something today

Mother: Stop it! I don’t see you eat, I’ll go and get you some bread today, drink your milk and I’ll be right back

Eleni: I heard something today, (fading as the mother leaves) I heard something today…

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