My Darling


My Darling  And this child within; Sometimes gets trapped in thoughts: “Wish I knew what his heart was feeling.” Love is a wilderness that cannot be tamed. This child within,  Sometimes dances to his subtle tunes; it seems. She plays with fire, the same way he plays with words. This child within, lives in the present with great respect for the past; Everybody knows how to walk through fire. But to recall a burning heart without the flame; It takes a gypsy’s soul  – This child within, Surrendered to her anger, but her rage disappeared, Before the hour-glass was through. … Continue reading My Darling

Hamartia


Hamartia  An eternity of holding onto the edge of her thoughts – She leads me into her sorrows beneath her celebrated joys. We play in the waves of her mood with the changing of her seasons. I lose myself in her cries, when old scars hinder her needs. Those gestures that delay her sleep, I can never change. “What burns inside your heart today?” she whispers in the morning bask. And I am grateful for her generous touch; In all the memories of my todays, Knowing she will never miss me – In the chaos of her tomorrows.   Dedicated … Continue reading Hamartia

Purple Darkness


 Purple Darkness A day that can be ruled by a kiss A twist and a twirl with a Prince I just wanted to touch your soul I have no past, I need no future A never-ending reign of dreams To plunge into your fantasy In wonderous memories of love remembered Rip out and burn those false beginnings A candle’s scent; to keep you company I offered a gate into the wild of purple With music that can make you dance till tomorrow That is all I have to give, before the end of me And after I’m gone, change what … Continue reading Purple Darkness

Anticipated Memories


Anticipated Memories The wickedness of collapse, is that it comes in idle whispers. It takes you in its arms; numbing the yearning to dream. In quiet steps, it alters the world you thought was real. The present is misplaced, and in the depths of darkness you descend. You see a glimpse of truth in your attempt to trust. A faint spark of memory keeps coming back; There it is; nearest to your heart, that little thing called love. My muse had a charming way of bringing back the dead.    – In all its imperfections, it was a perfect World. … Continue reading Anticipated Memories

The Massacre of Kalavryta


[Republishing with additions due to requests. A heart-felt thanks to all who asked for a longer version of this story. I’d also like to thank every single one of you for your visits! The Massacre of Kalavryta by Maria Fokas – I will feel my way into it again, as I do every time I recall her story. We sat on the deck of her summer beach home, with the endless sea stretched out before us. A vintage white table set between us, covered with a fragment of a past time; it was a delicate ivory laced tablecloth her grandmother … Continue reading The Massacre of Kalavryta

Featherless Wings


Photograph by Maria Fokas Featherless Wings  The branches dare to disturb; Moving in a motion that tangles their world. Their whispers; in the winds of passing seasons – The fear of triumph is absent, They are alive, that is their quest – Conversations of love do not break their delicate wings. Trees have wings? Wings without feathers; fly by the scent of their leaves. They capture the day, and stir the night. No words to torture their souls – They reflect on prolonged possibilities; And drink from the songs of passers-by.   © Maria Fokas/ Feb 17 2016/All Rights Reserved Continue reading Featherless Wings

The Rain


The Rain by Maria Fokas Oh that gentle rain, aching to come back, time and again. No warning to let you prepare. Like a bow and arrow to ruin your day. Can you plan around such a tease? Oh sweet rain, running free . . . I will keep your secret; and be grateful for thee.  Happy to welcome that gentle drop; On my lips, and down my neck; To whisper . . . I just like coming back – © Maria Fokas/all rights reserved, and Photo Credits/ 2017   Continue reading The Rain

The Massacre of Kalavryta


The Massacre of Kalavryta by Maria Fokas – I will feel my way into it again, as I do every time I recall her story. I sat on the deck of her summer beach home, with the endless sea stretched out before me. One could only hope for that moment of tranquility to last forever. A vintage white table set before me, covered with a delicate ivory laced tablecloth her grandmother had knitted decades ago; a fragment of a past time. She stepped out onto the deck to join me; holding a tray with homemade cookies, and iced-lemon-tea, filling the … Continue reading The Massacre of Kalavryta

The Bridge Across the Sea


The Bridge Across the Sea by Maria Fokas On my death-bed, I say my last goodbye. I do not utter his name; a forgiving tragedy; And to his final question: I speak a lie. I shall not shed another tear for the moments denied. I shall not shed another tear for foolish twisted humanity – I shall not shed another tear for that weakness to suppose. Erase me from your past; . . . the years you have forsaken me – Each genuine day; Each generous hour; A love I embraced: In pure desire, his lips I kissed – Every … Continue reading The Bridge Across the Sea

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage


[There is a pleasure in the pathless woods] George Gordon Byron There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean–roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; … Continue reading Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage