Poets Come of Age - A Coming-of-Age Poem

Αισθησιακό γυμνό ζευγάρι - Poster by Awen Fine Art Prints

We talk of poets and white doves
till sunrise
of blushing anemones, chilled juice
and ice cream and mother's apple pie.

Istanbul - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Istanbul's Skyline

Once you begged for absolution

but now you straddle seven hills.

Frenzied red Arabian horses

swirl at your open gates

your porcelain-white limbs
are kissed by the broken moon
and you fastened your sainthood
to the bottom of the sea.

The poet's song - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Romantic Disillusion

My sweetest lover, daydreaming

in the shade of an old aspen tree—

a green world of wondrous madness.

She, the purple gateway to a citadel
of sin and I the Mississippi River
raging between the marble pillars.

Icarus must die - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Icarus by Henry Matisse

Icarus has flown too high

he has eclipsed the stars.

The Sun-God has decreed

the youth must die.

Portrait of the poet as a lover - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Passionate Embrace of Lovers

The goddess commanded silence!

She was raging; I had disturbed her reverie
and though I said she was my only lover,
she scorned me and told me I was a stranger.
She broke my guitar, she burned my parchments
and locked away all my songs inside a jar.

Judas Iscariot - a poem by Chris Zachariou

My love for The Son of Man and Christianity as a way of life is infinite, however, I find it impossible to believe in a metaphysical world.

This poem is my own personal view of God, Jesus, and Judas. Please do not continue reading if you are easily offended or intolerant of other peoples' views.

This poem is largely inspired by the novel 'The Last Temptation of Christ' by Nikos Kazantzakis.

Judas

My Lord,

our covenant

The Messiah

in a crown of thunder

in a blaze of glory.

There will be death, fires
and Roman blood

and all the bells will ring

'Jehovah has come to Zion'.

The Universal Harlot - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Istanbul's Skyline

At the crossroads of the world
the sacred whore is lost in dreams

of cinnamon and purple nights.

Who are you?

the rising moon commands.

I am the harlot of the world.

For so many perfumed nights

I slept with emperors and kings

but all the time I dreamt of Eden.