time

An Emerald Wish


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An Emerald Wish by Maria Fokas

Find that picture you once took . . . the one which captured a moment that seemed like any other, at the time. But looking back, you know better now. That picture which hides a gemstone that would take a thousand words to share; the one so special, you don’t dare give away. I can’t recall the exact wording of my wish that day, but who took me there, I will never forget;

Oh, that emerald field of magical whispers.

© Maria Fokas/October 28th 2016 – All Rights Reserved: Photography by mariafokas

Simple Things


mariafokas bird 2

Simple Things by Maria Fokas

Precious things to hold onto;

Moments we have loved.

With time still left,

To love some more.

A day, a decade, hopefully two,

And wishing for more.

Soaring through life for the simple things,

Thankful each day for your generosity.

Oh my love; now I see,

That in the river of dreams,

A taste of cloves, and lemon drops,

Is all I’ll ever need.

© Maria Fokas/September 3rd 2016 /All Rights Reserved – Photography by mariafokas.com

Through the Breaking


Malahide Castle

 

Through the Breaking by Maria Fokas

She stood between the cracks,

As far as she could see;

A grace,

whistling out of reach.

Those beautiful clouds,

Could make any mess disappear. . .

 

© Maria Fokas/July 24th 2016 – Dublin/All Rights Reserved

 

Compassion for Time


Compassion for Time

Compassion for Time by Maria Fokas

The limitations of compassion,

Let me keep my heart intact.

I have touched your madness,

The curiosity for moments I cared;

But . . .

Those words made of ink,

 Will always be dark.

And words from whispers,

 Which come from the heart,

 Will always love.

All the struggles to survive;

In the distance between us -

But that bright light hiding within;
 

Never left your side -

So if you ever think back,

And for a split moment sigh;

Do not think twice, 

For you did not offend me.

It was our love which was sacrificed; 

Not us -

Nothing I felt was ever your fault; 

The waves do tend to lure.
 

Oh those experts full of words of wisdom;

Twist and turn the truths of time.

Respect the past, present, and what is to come.
 

For every moment is precious; may it be love or pain.

The past; compassion while we walk through thorns of time.

The present; for respect of the story we have yet to find.

The future; to keep hope alive for the moments we dare.

Strength and weakness go hand in hand.

Far from perfect; in the end.

For every day we change;

 But some things,

  I wish stayed the same -

© Maria Fokas/June 13th 2016 – Dublin/All Rights Reserved – Photograph: Maria Fokas

When You Are Old


Leszek Paradowski

                                  Photograph Credits: Leszek Paradowski 

When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

 

Beyond the Sea


©Yucel Basoglu

Beyond the Sea by Maria Fokas

Bear the whispers of a weeping hue,

To recall the moments of rapture.

Obliterate the cries of sorrow,

Words crippled by failure to thrive.

Misplaced memories of you;

Of all that you dream to be,

Plunge into the depths of your ocean,

Reclaim the path you pledged to engrave.

Do not forsake that endless need.

To be swallowed up by a timely dew,

Or tread the footsteps in that loose-leaf.

In the dawn of silence you always knew;

You turned the pages of that beautiful ride;

In the trembling of your voice,

The darkest story ever told.

“Stay with me tonight”

I wish it were true.

Pleasures of the heart can numb;

But, I plead with you tonight.

Do not disclaim your Ocean.

 

© Maria Fokas/May 29th 2016/All Rights Reserved – Photograph Credits: ©Yucel Basoglu

 

Underwater Waves [Finale]


amazing-beautiful-sea-photography-mountain-waves-picutres NEW

Underwater Waves by Maria Fokas


No; it wasn’t a promise to return. It was a promise to love me till death took him away. I recall a time when all I wanted was to make him proud of me. I’d always jump at the chance to be with him; I’d listen to his stories of when I was just a little girl; of how he loved me more than he loved his own life. And no matter what happened, he would always be close.

It was a cold winter evening when he sat me down to talk. He said he had to change his life; that he had one last chance for happiness. I sat still listening to his every word. He didn’t look into my eyes; he sat across from me with his head down in torment for what he had to say. I told him not to be sad; that everything was going to be alright. But he did not smile; he merely shook his head. I swallowed that cold bitter pain in my throat, and held back my tears, and when I was ready to speak, I asked him one question. “Do you love her?” He said, “Yes,” and so I told him to do what made him happy. He smiled with pity, and there was nothing more to say; and that question screaming in my head, that one, I never asked.

In the dark of the night, he got his suitcase ready; only the essentials. Then he washed his face, took a last sip of his black coffee, kissed his wife on the cheek, and picked up his suitcase. She asked, “The girls?” He stopped, opened our bedroom door, and tool a peek inside. “No,” he said, “Let them sleep, I will call them in the evening when I’ve arrived.”

In the morning, when I woke up, my mum said he was gone.

So you see, we were doomed from the start with no one to blame. Every love story that has ever been written, has also been lived. And my God, they have all been beautiful; every single one of them. But I will not regret the choices that I have made. I will not witness such pain in the eyes of another little girl; not by my hand. So do not sorrow for the tears I shed, for my waves were never waves at all, and my words were from a love story of a thousand years ago; in a beautiful world; where nothing is ever lost.

But that call he had promised to make;

I remember waiting.

The End

 

 

© Maria Fokas/May 24th 2016/All Rights Reserved Photography Credits: Ray Collins

Underwater Waves [4]


Stuart Stevenson 2

                                            [Flash Fiction Chapter Four]

Underwater Waves by Maria Fokas


Was it not yesterday?

Here, yesterday is the past; and the past is gone.

No . . . something that haunts you day and night, is never gone.

Her patience abandons her, and madness takes hold of her like a tempest. She will rage against everything she believes to be destroying their paradise. She forgets the truth. She shuts her eyes to her cowardice. In her fairytale she is free; only life filled with vivid colors of youth, and the scent of spring in every scene. And in this lonely place, she was not so alone. The sky knelt down to welcome her smile, as her eyes fixed upon the sun-rays of a new day. She felt a soft breeze, and then a faint melody; the melody of a mockingbird; familiar sounds, but nothing real. Then one by one, those forgotten bits and pieces resurface.

She recalls all those things along the way. The gestures of love; the song of hope. He was a compass of dreams, a philosopher of thought, and she, the goddess of his make-believe. And in the quiet of the night, he sang to her with his laughter as she danced to the chant of his sweet delight. She caressed his pain; sometimes with kindness, and sometimes with silence; and in his endless disbelief, she bore his storms. She had become a friend to a stranger from another world; a world cursed to never be.

Between you and me; The bridges . . . The walls . . . And when they said it was impossible, we showed them how it could be done –

A while, and then halfway before her end, that which she thought had destroyed her paradise, was the thing that saved her. And it was never his fault. It was she who willed him to leave; she feared to dream, so she pushed him away to protect him from her pain. She hoped that he’d betray her; she begged for it to happen, and when he’d refuse, she’d disappear to punish him. He had to be her villain, but he was not. He was a kind man searching for hope. He told her, it would be a struggle, but they would get through it in the end – Oh, and he did try to save her in every way, but some souls cannot be saved my love.

To go back to that day, when trust destroyed her; the day he left with a promise to return, but never did –

To be continued . . .

 

© Maria Fokas/May 18th 2016/All Rights ReservedPhotograph Credits: Stuart Stevenson

Underwater Waves [3]


Harry Fayt

                                           [Flash Fiction Chapter Three]

Underwater Waves by Maria Fokas

The waves pursue your thoughts; they call you their master; their muse. They use words like, unique and genuine. They say, your beauty is rare, and your kindness is precious. Wild with fervor, they play with your mood in the dark of the night. They wet their lips with the thought of your aching needs; they tell you stories, claiming to have seen in the depths of your eyes. They captivate your essence in your every sigh; they wait for you to come in their dreams; they absorb your every gesture. They listen to the rhythm of your breathing; they tell you to let go of everything you knew to be true.

When your eyes turn away, they plead with you to not fear their erotic whispers; they tell you to close your eyes; to feel their energy as they caress your weaknesses. They promise to never harm you; they want only to protect you. They count your every smile; while you thought you only had one, they tell you otherwise. “Trust me, and succumb to your needs,” they whisper in the moonlit world they’ve created for you. You feel their pain, and promise to stay.

When you have proven your loyalty to the waves . . . to him . . . he begins the subtle questions; like, “Do you want me?” You say, “Yes.” Then he wants to know more;“but do you need me?” That question frightens you at first. You explain how important your freedom is to you; that expectations hinder love; that you don’t want to think about the future; only the now exists. This idea ignites a craze in him. He tells you that it will all turn into a need; and you must allow it to happen.

And as you lose bits and pieces of yourself each day, consumed and mesmerized by him, you become vulnerable to his every need. Soon enough, you’ve lost the power to protect yourself from all the things that make no sense. So you stop questioning the chaos and the weirdness, and succumb to his passions; Now you lose your moral values. You stop asking about the other woman he was playing with before he found you; the one he called “mad with fury”. You don’t question his games with women when you have to disappear; nor do you ask for explanations when you return. He tells you that all the others are merely a means to communicate with the outside world, and nothing more. Then he tells you stories about obsessive women he had to throw out of his sea.

 

To be Continued . . .

 

© Maria Fokas/May 16th 2016/All Rights Reserved – Photograph Credits: Harry Fayt