The muse has fled - a poem by Chris Zachariou

loss

Unhappy and betrayed

the butterfly has fled her shelter.

Now the humbled word smith

works late into the night

weaving words to write a song

but words do not come easy

and their rhymes no longer chime.

Oblivion at last - a poem by Chris Zachariou

oblivion

I've come back to you

but you are angry with me.

Hissing, spitting, screaming.

Don't send me away again

shelter me in your blackness.

Please save me from the voices.

Who are you? - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Who are you?

Dark purple, green and black

these are your colours of today.

But where is your light blue dress

and where is the child's laughter?

Together we reached for Parnassus.

Admit it, you know how much alike we are.

And weren't we both agitated pondering

on such an unlikely friendship?

A Shameless thief - a poem by Chris Zachariou

a prostitute - Picasso

Waking up from a drunken stupor

she looks around her shabby room.

Ashtrays full, plates piled in the sink

and a mattress with soiled bed sheets

—her faithful and trusted servants—

torn from years of loveless coupling.

Lips unlocked - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Arkansas butterfly

Across the ocean
in a country far away
a moth cocooned
works night and day
forging exquisite silk

The words we leave unsaid - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Five friends eating ice cream and apple pie

Five sat around the table
eating ice cream and apple pie
but in between the laughter
and the sips of wine
silence fell and talked so loud
with all the words we left unsaid.

What if - a poem by Chris Zachariou

A Girl Amidst Flowers

All I have are memories—

love and loss, pain and despair;
the remorseless spiral into sorrow
and then the slow crawling back
until I learned to live again.