DOUKAS KAPADAΪS

Animus1

 
At night, when he turned in,
a light breeze refreshed him -
in solitude's excruciating heat
in the dream's bitter-sweet poison: 
He was alone in a school yard
making his way to the class,
when, under fluorescent glows,
the caretaker came out to tell him 
that the break was over,
and if he wanted to get there
he'd have to run, "Come on..., hurry up!" -
run before he locked the classroom doors. 
He was rooted to the spot
half a generation, and thus he remains.  

 
Anima 
 
At night, when he turned in,
a light breeze refreshed her -
in solitude's excruciating heat
in the dream's bitter-sweet poison: 
She was wandering lost in a forest
together with an old friend of hers
whom she asked for the way out,
though she seemed to know it all along. 
They were walking for hours in the forest,
and whenever the crickets' trilling was heard,
she thought they were singing for her,
"Well, you're not exactly past your prime..." 
Finally, when she woke up soaking wet
she remembered the tune and sang it.    

 
COUNTRY HOUSES IN WINTER 

I felt drowsy and without asking
I was given to hold a crystal ball
that shows the while inside us
and I was scared to see myself in it. 
From the vault fell sheets,
laundered, snowy, large,
like living room furniture covering
our houses - mammoth under the snow. 
Finally, when they had spread everywhere,
a milky moon rose
in the sky - a sign of ground frost?
Presently a coach will come and pick us up - 
I was thinking, without the least expectation; 
Tame, docile… 

GRANDPA

(Ode to an old man who, although he is nobody in particular, we all know very well)

They use to kill horses when they grow old.
The media are not a literary magazine.
In the media you can find princess Sharlot Kasiraghi (Grace’s Kelly granddaughter),
Countess Mona Wishmark and the noted beauty Daphne Giness.
(City Press 14.1.2008)
The media do not pity the dinosaurs.
The media do not know what change-over means.
The media never go to the Book Arcade.
I do not attack the media.
The media are being attacked (unsuccessfully) by serious poets and their lot

THE MEN OF CULTURE

Tell me grandpa how many young people do you see at the receptions of literary magazines?
Now is getting harder.
Now you’ll have to try grandpa:
Amongst the few, the really scarce, young people that you see in the receptions of literary magazines how many do you reckon have a satisfying sexual life?

I do not worry grandpa. What has to be done will be done grandpa.
The media have already done it grandpa.
Have you joined Facebook grandpa?
Things develop so fast aren’t they huh!......grandpa?
The day before yesterday it was e-mail.
Yesterday YouTube,
Today its Facebook.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring grandpa.
And the day after?

The media are doing a fine job grandpa,
The media are doing my job,
The media are doing our job.

You must be wondering why I speak like that….. grandpa?
You must be asking yourself, what have you done to deserve such words.
I feel sorry for you grandpa, but I don’t like you.
I know how to hurt you, isn’t that so grandpa?
(in these things I am even better than a woman….)

***

My grandmother, Catherine Nikolaou, maiden name Karavva
Died in 1986, age 90.
The last years she had lost her mind.
But all the while she still had her sanity
She was the most discreet person on earth.
For example when I watched football (on athletic Sunday TV show, you know the one with the popular tune),
So when I watched football I could see her head popping out the doorway,
And if she realized I wasn’t in the mood, then straight back to her little room.
And if I was more sociable, she would sit beside me and- I remember clearly- she particularly enjoyed headers.
She particularly enjoyed headers.
***
God help me when I grow old grandpa to be like her and not you,
Like her, not you.