Little Boats

little Boats MH 2

Life Boats by Maria Fokas

Little boats stippled along the horizon of a golden sea;
Inside my head, taintless journeys with innocent intentions –
Temporary moments that last forever; recurring with seasons’ comings
Tenuous threads that never break, beautifully wrapping wasted space in time
Lifeless obstacles beneath the surface; like a vice, never committed
Exempt from the fear of loss; I gather my drifted self –

Bereft of a farewell kiss; {up in the sky} clouds cover me like an ivory laced blanket;
On the day of the dead, my life begins with antithetical inclinations of love –
Autumn frosted maple leaves in bittersweet hues, will fall on ashen streets
Tomorrow, I will be between spaces of togetherness; like little boats –
Scattered specks of destinies, never traveled to . . .


© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Photograph by Martin Hanley

The Promise of Eternity

The Promise of Eternity

The Promise of Eternity by Maria Fokas

In the winds of the North, thought bares a spark of life
In the welcome of the East, the sun embraces morning whispers
In the star-lit skies of the West, tiny crystals light the darkness
In the heart of the South, desire burns through shadows of fear –

A gift; to uncover intention 
The cycle of time; to determine a wish
Passion in a sin; fire in one love –

You are the promise . . .


© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved

Artist of photograph unknown; Request:Please contact me if name is known

The Red House

The Red HouseThe Red House by Maria Fokas

My eyes opened to an empty day:

How long has it been, a decade, a century?

I swear!

Only a day; you’ve been gone one day.

The wilderness of silence hovers over me.

And that unspoken word, still lingers in my head –

You said – good-bye, with the word “Regards”

A formality with such powerful blow

To hatch the beast that mocks my loss.

In the red house  – no enemies remain; no one but me,

I lean my head against the window pane;

Way above the sky, a warm light comes down!

I had a dream of a burning life last night.

The moon chanted on,”Everything will be alright.

You will travel through the colors of the light.”

Red, orange and green, or was it blue?

And then, there was you –

 “A decade or a few, but not a century, my lovely tease –

We are only human after all,” you empathized with me.

And then the time of no return arrived;

A slash of regret –

A brutal tear – 

A reminder of you, filled my empty day –

In the red house the hour is long.




EWIAN – Beautiful Lie

The time has come tonight.

We gonna be free.

We gonna lose together

what never should be.
We´re floating like a feather

against gravity.

The midnight of ourselves

will culminate soon.
And if I could,

I would save you from hell in man.

Save you from the blind hatred and ignorance.

And if I could, I would let them feel

what you felt,

till they break out in tears

when they realize what they did.
And if I could,

I would save you from hell in man.

And if I could, I would let them feel

what you felt, till they break out in tears.

I would save you from hell in man.

Save you.
I would let them feel what you felt.

I would let them feel what you felt.


“‘Beautiful Lie’ is about the inability of some people to be empathic and the pain I feel by the knowledge that most of them probably never will be able to reflect foreign thoughts – which is the basis for compassion, one of the virtues which makes us human. This fact is represented in ‘Beautiful Lie’ by the story of a lesbian couple who is haunted by people who see evil in that, and in the end, both women decide to make a double suicide, to reach freedom by death rather than being slaves in the real world. I know that´s very sad, it´s one of my saddest compositions. But I don´t give up the thought that one day all human beings will be able to have compassion. The pictures in the attachment are stills of a video and tell about the moment after the double suicide. Their bodies have transformed into light, floating through a flower field to reach an unkown state of jointly awareness in the end.”


– Ewian




Ewian was generous enough to send me the lyrics of his new song, “Beautiful Lie” before it is actually released. The picture of the flower will be added to the video he is creating for the song. He shared with me, the personal story which triggered his need to create Beautiful Lie, but he’s asked me to hold onto that story, and so I will respect his request. The little time I’ve known Ewian, I’ve come to see the splendor in his heart, and the compassion he has for humanity. He is a courageous man full of hope; determined to contributing to a future where he feels empathy to be the key to our salvation. He has truly captured my heart; expressing the beauty of his soul through his words, lyrics, and music. I am lucky that Ewian found me through ‘In the Depths of Darkness’.

Thank you Ewian; grateful for your trust.

– Maria

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The Clown Sees Clearest

The Clown Sees ClearestThe Clown Sees Clearest By Martin Hanley

The clown sees clearest the hidden flaw with a sense of knowing like a ticking clock. Burning embers ignite a raging fire as towering walls come closing in. The iridescent sun flower climbs high, cursing the gathering clouds. On the cold grey ground it forever lays its dark shadow bare. We’re floating on an ocean of happiness yet deep beneath us are depths never constant nor still.

For success is times waning blossom; her flowering petals were faded to begin. Where passion and beauty spread their wings is special; caught in a dreamlike moment so rare. The flame that burns brightest consumes itself and soon complicated gods request their share. All the while the sun’s still shinning, the audience demanding; yet most are seldom aware. For death and life are secret lovers; like a single echo they dance across a universe we share. The darkest moment reveals no truth and soon a part of us is lost within. And silent nature his only witness, whispers in the stillness of that frozen hour. You’re free now.

(Dedicated to Robin Williams for all the special moments he gave us…)  © all rights reserved Martin Hanley Aug 11th 2014


An Empty Page

An Empty page

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 as charged.

Every now and then I look around, and notice all the things I hate, but take the selfish path. Little by little I create my own garden, with only the few to be welcomed. And when something in the world goes wrong, and I find out by chance, I helplessly turn away and say, I don’t have time to worry about the things I cannot change. Yes, it is a weakness, and a serious fault. But I know that awareness of one’s darkness can be the first step to change. But then again, I could be wrong.

I sat here in the privacy of the moment to clear my head and find comfort; I shut out my temporary world just to breathe. I feel shame, I feel disgust, but take comfort in knowing that the things I don’t choose are not my fault. What am I saying? I could not be further from the truth . . .

Lucky, I can fill my empty page with the words that free me of the things which scar the soul.

“What do you need?”, someone asked me. I did not reply, but in the quiet of knowing I have an empty page to fill…maybe someday, I will know.



LIFE by Maria Fokas

I say that the sun comes up no matter what

It touches my face and warms my heart

I am not jealous that my time is brief


In the darkness when nothing seems to work

It makes no difference when the sun comes up

So hold on and play the music high


Cause the darkness doesn’t worry

About you and I

It will keep coming around till we figure it out


Cause in the end

We may be surprised

That there is no end


Forget those who start the wars they never fight

And those who fight them

They never win them


I’m done building walls

I’m done burning bridges

I’m done smiling in the face of lies


I’m done running from my demons, running from the pain

Running from those who claim I’m insane

I think I’ll stick around and welcome my demons


Let them tell me a story or two

Of the real reason they keep coming around

Who knows, I may be surprised

© 2014 Maria Fokas 

Stuck in a Moment

Stuck in a moment Stuck in a Moment by Maria Fokas

I look out into the world and see confusion; a reflection of what I feel inside. I suppose because something is missing. So much I don’t understand.

I know I’m not alone in the loneliness I feel every now and then. I wonder about that dark emptiness lurking beyond the shadow of my soul; like a black hole lingering in the far distance – no corners to confine it – scattered arbitrarily, or maybe abiding by a law of some universe keeping it at a specific point and distance but never to disappear.

The infinite darkness within holds onto me so tightly like a promised memory making sure I do not ignore its existence. There must be a thread that takes us back to when it all began I hope. Or was there no beginning and thus no end?

What an idea to accept; that within every negative we are sure to find a positive holding it all together – an empty space there to swallow us whole at any given time which could easily render shelter to a soul seeking to hide in its familiar darkness.

In an idea of no beginning and no end there rests hope of immortality of some kind…the kind only love can ignite. To never have been born and so never to die is a hopeful thought…and the silliest I’ve ever witnessed myself to believe in.  But my biology professor did tell me the existence of a human being presupposes he’s been born; “Structure defines function”, he said. Oh yes, but he wasn’t lecturing about the soul which resides in the human being.

The idea of the soul has no positive argumentation in academic minds clutched onto their need to be accepted as scientists. When speaking of spirituality they would compromise their position were they to argue for a thought fictional in the face of empirical research.

But the thought of superficial existence of the flesh as being the only existence; that which we can see and feel, and smell and taste…the thing that comes and goes – consuming but a brief moment of space in time; that is tangible and safe to discuss for its cause is DNA.

We are destined to be remembered or forgotten by the choices we make but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m searching for that thread to the first idea of existence. Maybe the reason for the black hole…if there ever was a reason, or a black hole within, for that matter.

No, there must be a reason. I just have to remember. If I could only stroll down that twisted path of DNA, I would surely find the reason unless I’m completely wrong about that black hole waiting to be acknowledged before it can set me free.

“Would you be surprised if I told you that I believe there dwells the brightest star in the center of our deepest darkness?”, he said. “A light within us we cannot see from where we stand but easily noticed by loving eyes standing at the receiving end of us”. – Yes you once said that you saw light when you looked into my eyes. I remember that day. I was at my saddest but because of you I could smile.

My professor lectured, “…fused together…the beginning of a cycle …”. My hand was up to let him know that I can accept his science without abandoning my belief in eternity. He said, “Don’t be misled by your need to believe”. And then I remembered the beginning of the poem I never got round to finishing: “At the moment closest to her end, she will see the brightest star”.

But if I’m wrong and a black hole does not exist within, then my need to fill it up with light will never be met…no I cannot be wrong, not about the feeling at least…

I had a dream last night. A little girl with long brown curls asked me, “How long can you love him?”, …as long as my heart remembers, I thought. The little girl heard me and smiled …”the heart has a mind of its own…it resides in the star”, she said.

© 2013 Maria Fokas/Stuck in a Moment