Wild is the Wind

Wild is the Wind


Wild is the Wind

Tame me with your broken heart.
Embrace me with your lips;
– You have been all things to me.
In the innocence of love; In the dusk of dreams;
– You have been all things to me.


© Maria Fokas 2016/All Rights Reserved –Altered Illustration by M. F.

Murphy’s Law

Murphy's LawMurphy’s Law by Maria Fokas / Photograph by Martin Hanley

And though it seemed that anything could go wrong,

That everything would go wrong

He looked into my eyes, and claimed he saw lines of red in the brown

He said hazel, I said brown . . .

He counted my smiles, and spoke of inspiration

He asked me; where inspiration comes from

 – No, not from the Gods, I said,

But from a painful longing that cannot be marked

Where touch is absent, and words feel mercy,

And comfort never comes too soon

© Maria Fokas 2014


The art of losing


The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied.  It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop1911 - 1979

When Darkness Takes

Whenever Darkness Takes

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.


Copyright (c) Martin Hanley 5/20/2014

On Seeing Semele

ON SEEING SEMELEOn 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 by shadowy reflections, conscious in mirrors they slide undone.

High dose – low dose – some quietly keening; the faithful departed forever pacing. Chances, they say, are twelve to one. Familiar with faces and whispered refrains. Her back is now supported; heroic she still remains.

Humble with divinity now turning in her sleeping. Potential soon deflated as a background of staccato, echoes like a gun. And all the while the machine, observes her silently waiting.

Perfect with false eyelashes, corrupted like an unintelligible pun. Shallow, deep Semele’s breathing from curtain to ceiling, seat’s now empty, her busy friends all gone.

Our one whispered distraction retains her light eternal; troubled with terrible beauty as our lives carry on. Heart iridescent and crystal, Semele remains always an ever-loving mum.

Soon the moon’s reflection is blushing, silently she wanes, turns her back finally never smiles again.

Martin Hanley © April 2013


Brevity by Maria Fokas

In the brevity of life, we deal with the absurd

Wired through our days, a hope

The breeze and everything that is – I want to be

A hidden myth that love is suspended –

In the unsustainable flaw of time

What dominant species we have become

Loss is inevitably disturbing me

Genuinely unexpected, but no revelation when it comes

It drops into view leaving a mark in its path

What was previously latent is now everywhere to be found

I hear the perfect patterns of your heartbeat

The precision of its rapid increase, as you touch me

Do the stitches in the cloth that keeps you warm

Allege to own the gaps between their breaks?

Is it you or I, responsible for this love I stumbled upon?

But, in the brevity of life  –

The distance between us casts new light

Could it be in the voice, you speak to me?

Could it be in the innocence you gaze at me?

My vision is wide but I cannot see

I merely behold that you believe in me –

My heart wanders in your kindness

As you subtly leave your scars in my mind

In the brevity of life – long days rush on by

Still, my head counts the ticking in disguise

For an epic love on every hour

And when the night lifts –

A secret act is uncovered

And when the night falls

In every dream you are discovered

In the brevity of life

While, memories filled with loss

Never – mind, for it will fade

And a new tomorrow will be discovered

  • Dedication

© 2014 Maria Fokas 

A Song to Call my Own

A Song to Call my Own by Maria Fokas

A song to call my own . . .

You asked me why I love you

And a fear of wonder came to mind

If I tell him will he flee?

But then again how can I hide

The most important thing to me?

Is it the way you count my smiles –

Is it the way you hold me when I cry –

Is it how you make me feel alive –

Is it how you promise to protect me –

Is it how you let me be free to breathe –

Maybe the way you call my name –

Or the way you are always near –

Though the oceans keep our love astray –

I love you because  . . .

You make me smile

Because – You listen to my cries

I love you because . . .

You care about how I feel inside

Because –  You  promise me impossible dreams

I love you because . . .

You sing my name in every tune and theme

Because no matter where you are

Whenever I need you  –  you are there

So I tell you, regardless of my universal fear

While hoping you won’t flee –

But if you choose to go because of me

I wish you well in all your journeys

And when you think of me

However far you may dwell

In the silence of the night

Whisper my name . . .

So I know that you are well –

© 2014 Maria Fokas / A Song to Call my Own

Somewhere to Begin

If there ever was a song which simply and completely whispered our story to the world – it would have to be this one –

Dedicated to the man who came into my life unexpectedly and changed my world forever. . .

Somewhere to Begin by Maria Fokas 

I will love your ways  –

But at times,

I will be difficult and selfish in my need for your presence –

I will upset you and drive you mad sometimes –

There will be days I won’t understand you –

And there will be days you won’t understand me –

You may question my motives on occasion –

And at times I will have to endure your walls –

I won’t always function as you’d like me to –

But I will not abandon you –

I will be there when you truly need me –

To listen to your sincere explanations for doubting me –

I will accept your rage when you want to express it–

I will bear your craziness and never question the way you choose to love me –

When you want to restore harmony I will stand by your side  –

And when you need to destroy it I will help you –

But if we come to the end of our road I will say goodbye only if you ask me to . . .

I will do all this because I love you, and not because I need you . . .

When I look into your eyes I see a generous man who protects my desires, who takes care of my dreams, and who is there for me when I need a friend and have no words to utter my pain –

Yes, this is the place I’ve been dreaming of . . .

  © 2014 Maria Fokas