There are stories that must be told. (The stories which have lived in silence for so long). If you only had a year left, which ones would you make sure survived. . . which ones would matter? Maria Fokas Continue reading Forbidden Shells
Samsara by Maria Fokas With a torch in one hand and a key in the other, she stands alone before a crossroad. The paths are glowing below the full-moonlight sky; with her first step, she opens her eyes, again. She cries between lives and dances between deaths. She claims that nothing is ever lost – but that is never the case. She recalls three forms – past, present, and future; as blessed souls, return to the other side. Her travels are spread across the continents, with no care in the world, searching for a friendly face, but they have become so scarce. … Continue reading Samsara
Time and Distance by Maria Fokas And I will think of you in the day and wish for you in the night. And there will be no distance between us. Dedication Continue reading Time and Distance
When Darkness Takes by Martin Hanley Whenever the night feels long and the darkness takes, remember once when we were strong, and scented apples were ours to take. Our dreams crossed paths while we were awake – two kindred souls forever stirring. Dedication Copyright (c) Martin Hanley 5/20/2014 Continue reading When Darkness Takes
An Empty Page by Maria Fokas There are many tragedies in life, and I am lucky not to have experienced many of them yet. But when I’m lost, I pretend to be the center of this world; knowing I am not, and the painful secrets surface. I don’t think about those who are worse off than me. When it gets hard, should I be thankful that there are worse hardships out there? Using the unfortunate lives of others to make me feel better about my life, when life is difficult, is not a rational option for me. But I am guilty … Continue reading An Empty Page
EMMA and her Sister by Maria Fokas She watched me as I took pictures of the castle of St John in the old town of Rhodes. Dressed in a white dress-like costume, and white powdered make-up covering her face, she sat before the gates, waiting for the tourists to flip a few coins in her brown cardboard box. I could not but notice the way she looked at me, and then she spoke: – You can take a picture of me if you’d like. – What’s your name? – Emma, she said with a … Continue reading EMMA and her Sister
On Seeing Semele By Martin Hanley Dedicated to my sister Marian, who died on the 25 th of April 2013. Surrounded by the living, Semele walks her path alone. Safe now from Decadron that bitter-sweet antonym has come undone. Semele bloated and beckoning; a turgid Styx, a melanoid sun. Gentle hazel in the moonlight like glistening pools they haunt me as wheezing gasps echo in the room next door but one. Semele, still waiting as three sisters weave and their eternal thread is spun. Her short-term; your long-term in a rain-soaked pastel hospice; her senses now numb. Syndromes and charts masked … Continue reading On Seeing Semele
MEGALOMANIA by Maria Fokas Like a dark, tragic novel, she knows her end. Excessively preoccupied with prestige, and vanity. She makes friends easily, but inevitably loses them all. One by one, they turn away, despised by her arrogance. She claims a sense of entitlement, with her grandiosity behavior. Bears no empathy; her tears are fake, and her life is synthetic. She speaks of superior accomplishments, in the tales she tells – and envies those who own successes. But when she speaks kind words, do not be intrigued. Those words are merely her attempt to own you. She has many fears, but the greatest is rejection. When I look into … Continue reading MEGALOMANIA
Waking to be woken By Martin Hanley Numb and shivering, the infernal dam breaks, and I’m wide awake, waking to be woken. Deep noise and strange melodies submit as an angled plane dissects our memories, allowing suspended motion to dominate a single frame of cosmic wonder. Soon to evolve and flow, cresting upon an astral ocean as words drift silently without gravity to slowly transform their unwilling presence. Still asking immortal questions of our temporal darkness, it’s colorless tendrils complicit, remain our only light. Or was there once a golden principle hidden between worlds, yet forever guiding those willing towards balance within, where … Continue reading Waking to be Woken
Pictures in the Attic Rose Do you feel the shadows lurking beneath your skin when you lay down to sleep? I feel them every night. Sometimes petrified that it’s because I’ve become an imitation. Could that be it? Isabella I don’t know; maybe you just gave up. Rose Is that what you think? Isabella To believe that darkness can hide mistakes helps us survive regardless of them. Rose A sham to pretend that eternity matters to someone who hasn’t the faintest idea where they will find the resources to survive from day to day. Isabella And why do you … Continue reading Pictures in the Attic
Luve-Knots 