The Assassin's Tale - a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

A Portrait of Federico Lorca

In a moment of confusion,
an uninvited shadow with
a medal dangling proudly
around his neck slithered
into the poet’s bedroom.

July 1974 - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Cyprus 1974

I.

A day in July—

fires, bombs, a storm of death.

The drums of war
—monotonous, incessant—
pierce the eery silence of TVs
and panic-stricken phones.

Depression- a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

Sadness, photo by Maraikuk

I look for solace;
I distort reality
I wreck the world.

Yesterday's café - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Melancholy Sunsets

In the dwindling light of autumn
Primrose Hill remembers springtime.

Dressed in blue remembered verses,
last year's memories shelter in the park;

little swallows with crippled wings

gather in the trees to dream of May

Atthis loves another - a poem by Chris Zachariou

love hurts

Parnassus was the prize.

She breezed, I struggled.

Soon I will be so very old

and now Atthis loves another.

"Go to her," I said and still I hoped;

but she stays silent.

Veronica - a poem by Chis Zachariou

Waterloo Bridge - by Monet

Perhaps she tried Johnny
but she couldn’t love you.

Did you struggle when
your lungs began to burn
until oblivion came?

Africa - a poem by Chris Zachariou

famine

a mother cradles

her tiny baby girl

but in her little chest

there is no more breath

and all that’s left around

is the smell of death