Lilith's revenge - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Lilith the first woman

“Her gates are gates of death,
and from the entrance of the house
she sets out towards Sheol”*

Thursday’s child gallops bareback
from the bleak wastelands of the desert

into Inanna's garden;
she sprinkles verses at her feet and whispers:
"On the seventh day, I will be your only lover."

I will always be her lover - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Passionate Embrace: Evoking Erotic Poetry

I live inside her twisted mind.
There was no choice. She left the door
ajar and casually asked me to come in—
youth can be so careless these days.

Sailing - a poem by Chris Zachariou

sailing to the edge - 

photo by Dorsal_fFn on flickr 

We sail our boat to the edge
with its hull full of words
and its mast made of dreams.

The deluded king - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Arkansas butterfly

The metronome strikes
a thousand beats—tic, tic, tic—
monotonous and dull;
a toc never follows a tic.
 

The Guitar Laments - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Federico Lorca

In Alfacar, the poet
dreams of gypsy stallions
in the Andalusian
hills and valleys.

Springtime - a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

there'll never be another springtime

In the season of dusk and sadness,
I recall flights of little swallows

heading down south

in the sleepy skies of summer.

A Mirage on the Water - a poem by Chris Zachariou

 

Passion's Embrace in the Water

Each day at noon, I cycled
in the pungent fumes of melting tar
to a pubescent mirage by the water.