ΟΤΑΝ ΜΠΟΡΩ ΝΑ ΓΡΑΨΩ ΕΝΑ ΠΟΙΜΑ ΣΤΑ ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΑ
Όταν μπορώ να γράψω ενα ποίημα στα ελληνικά
Θα μιλήσω για τα καλοκαίρια κάψιμος,
Όταν κοιμάμαι το απόγευμα.
Θα μιλήσω για τους κρυούς χειμώνες
Όταν με ακολουθεί η μυρωδιά των ξύλινων.
Θα μιλησώ για το φθινόπωρο
Όταν οι αγρότες φαίνονται κουρασμένοι.
Θα μιλησώ για την άνοιξη
Όταν αναπνέει ο Θεός τη ζωή μεσα σε όλα.
Και Θα σας πω πως νιώθω
Όταν κοιτάζω στα αστέρια
Στο φωτεινό ουρανό.
Πως νιώθω οταν ακουώ τα πουλάκια
Στην ψιλή μαρκίζα.
Πως νιώθω όταν αγκαλιάζω τα δέντρα.
Και θα σας εξηγήσω γιατί είμαι ερωτευμένη με την Ελλάδα.
Εν τω μεταξύ θα καθίσω στη σκιά,
Οι λόγκες των ακτίνων το ήλιου
Με υπενθυμίζουν σε Αχιλλέα.
Jane Sharp
September 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
JACKSON POLLOCK?
Jackson Pollock passes by in sleep
A name I keep on my lips
Till morning,
Not knowing who he is
Or why I want to meet him.
He spills out roughly over my dry tongue
Into consciousness,
And even as I stretch and yawn,
Thinking daily things,
My mind brings forward
Jackson Pollock.
So I open a window and ask space for an answer.
Had I come across the name in conversation?
Had the information flashed across a screen
Surreptitiously hidden from me
To be revealed in dream?
Could it be that Jackson Pollock, in death,
Was left splashing the universe with his colour?
Was he yet weaving snaking lavender threads of pure emotion?
The unfettered Jackson Pollock.
It is no surprise to find the man
Behind the name had, in life,
Trapped something of his genius on canvas.
Chaotic scenes of brilliance woven
Like Aztec visions of hell
Transcendental spiders’ webs within which a part of Jackson Pollock remains visible,
Captured like a snapshot American Indian.
Three names were in the dark but only one remains a spark: Jackson Pollock.
I wonder, will someone in some other time awake with my name in their head?
Are we ever dead?
A name I keep on my lips
Till morning,
Not knowing who he is
Or why I want to meet him.
He spills out roughly over my dry tongue
Into consciousness,
And even as I stretch and yawn,
Thinking daily things,
My mind brings forward
Jackson Pollock.
So I open a window and ask space for an answer.
Had I come across the name in conversation?
Had the information flashed across a screen
Surreptitiously hidden from me
To be revealed in dream?
Could it be that Jackson Pollock, in death,
Was left splashing the universe with his colour?
Was he yet weaving snaking lavender threads of pure emotion?
The unfettered Jackson Pollock.
It is no surprise to find the man
Behind the name had, in life,
Trapped something of his genius on canvas.
Chaotic scenes of brilliance woven
Like Aztec visions of hell
Transcendental spiders’ webs within which a part of Jackson Pollock remains visible,
Captured like a snapshot American Indian.
Three names were in the dark but only one remains a spark: Jackson Pollock.
I wonder, will someone in some other time awake with my name in their head?
Are we ever dead?
Thursday, July 17, 2008
ODE TO A MARKETING WHIZ
Oh soft the sweet computer calls you by
And flirting bids you sit for hours on end
'Clicking on' and 'keying in' which I, shy
Of talking by machine my right defend
To play Sudoku, watch TV or sew
And silently do pass my day (and night)
Alone, widowed by a whiz whose bloggin
Pays for my homely comforts, don't ye know!
And though I'd love some male attention, right,
Nothing beats a profitable 'log in'.
Jane Sharp
Lonely Poets' Society
And flirting bids you sit for hours on end
'Clicking on' and 'keying in' which I, shy
Of talking by machine my right defend
To play Sudoku, watch TV or sew
And silently do pass my day (and night)
Alone, widowed by a whiz whose bloggin
Pays for my homely comforts, don't ye know!
And though I'd love some male attention, right,
Nothing beats a profitable 'log in'.
Jane Sharp
Lonely Poets' Society
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
A HEART THAT'S AS COLD AS STONE
(I wrote this song in the aftermath of the split between G and me)
It doesn't bother me that you hurt me so
It doesn't bother me I'll just let you go
It doesn't bother me that you told me lies
It doesn't bother me that you criticize
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
It doesn't bother me that you loved and lost
It doesn't bother me that I pay the cost
It doesn't bother me that I burnt my hand
It doesn't bother me it's just a ripple in the sand
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
No more dancing in the summer sun
Two hearts that now will never be as one
You took the key and now you're all alone
With a heart that's as cold as stone.
It doesn't bother me that you locked me out
It doesn't bother me now there is no doubt
It doesn't bother me that you lost your way
It doesn't bother me our love was easy thrown away
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
No more dancing in the summer sun
Two hearts that now will never be as one
You locked me out and now you're all alone
With a heart that's as cold as stone...repeat and fade...
It doesn't bother me that you hurt me so
It doesn't bother me I'll just let you go
It doesn't bother me that you told me lies
It doesn't bother me that you criticize
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
It doesn't bother me that you loved and lost
It doesn't bother me that I pay the cost
It doesn't bother me that I burnt my hand
It doesn't bother me it's just a ripple in the sand
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
No more dancing in the summer sun
Two hearts that now will never be as one
You took the key and now you're all alone
With a heart that's as cold as stone.
It doesn't bother me that you locked me out
It doesn't bother me now there is no doubt
It doesn't bother me that you lost your way
It doesn't bother me our love was easy thrown away
And now you're all alone
A heart that's cold as stone
And crying in the dark.
No more dancing in the summer sun
Two hearts that now will never be as one
You locked me out and now you're all alone
With a heart that's as cold as stone...repeat and fade...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
FLYING HIGH
It's like this,
Yer flying along in the middle of nowhere,
'Cos the sky is full of nothing and 30,000 feet is a long way up,
When outside yer see a man in a top hat peddling for all he's worth
On a bicycle.
That's strange, yer think,
And because nobody else sees the guy (or at least doesn't let on they 'ave),
Yer think, nah, couldn't 'a' been, and continue reading the in-flight mag
Which 'ad been so boring as to cause ye to look out the window in the first place.
All the same, yer think, that guy was mighty real to me, and ye look around
To see if anyone else is looking 'disturbed'.
Yer don't want to say anything 'cos yer
Know it's impossible for a man in a top hat to be cycling throught the air
At 30,000 feet.
And anyways yer don't want people to think you've 'ad an embolism.
He was wearing yeller trousers too,
But he weren't a clown, at least I don't thik so.
He were just 'sit-up-and-beg' enjoying the ride.
I could tell he were enjoying the ride 'cos he 'ad such a 'gleeful'
Smile on his face.
I can't believe no-one else saw 'im.
I look out the window again half expecting to see some of his mates
On the same track,
But no,
No such luck.
And now I feel sort of privaledged to 'ave seen 'im,
A bit like descovering some rare botanical thing in the 'edgrow.
There's loads o' times yer the only one that notices these things.
I wonder where he was off to,
That chap on the bike, 30,000 feet up, in the middle of nowhere.
It could just 'ave been a weekend thing,
People do all sors o' crazy things on a weekend.
Ye', yeller trousers... and a blue shirt...
Must 'a' been a Chelsea supporter!
Yer flying along in the middle of nowhere,
'Cos the sky is full of nothing and 30,000 feet is a long way up,
When outside yer see a man in a top hat peddling for all he's worth
On a bicycle.
That's strange, yer think,
And because nobody else sees the guy (or at least doesn't let on they 'ave),
Yer think, nah, couldn't 'a' been, and continue reading the in-flight mag
Which 'ad been so boring as to cause ye to look out the window in the first place.
All the same, yer think, that guy was mighty real to me, and ye look around
To see if anyone else is looking 'disturbed'.
Yer don't want to say anything 'cos yer
Know it's impossible for a man in a top hat to be cycling throught the air
At 30,000 feet.
And anyways yer don't want people to think you've 'ad an embolism.
He was wearing yeller trousers too,
But he weren't a clown, at least I don't thik so.
He were just 'sit-up-and-beg' enjoying the ride.
I could tell he were enjoying the ride 'cos he 'ad such a 'gleeful'
Smile on his face.
I can't believe no-one else saw 'im.
I look out the window again half expecting to see some of his mates
On the same track,
But no,
No such luck.
And now I feel sort of privaledged to 'ave seen 'im,
A bit like descovering some rare botanical thing in the 'edgrow.
There's loads o' times yer the only one that notices these things.
I wonder where he was off to,
That chap on the bike, 30,000 feet up, in the middle of nowhere.
It could just 'ave been a weekend thing,
People do all sors o' crazy things on a weekend.
Ye', yeller trousers... and a blue shirt...
Must 'a' been a Chelsea supporter!
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Rudiments of Musical Knowledge
I was all a QUAVER
As he WALTZ'd me a-ROUND,
Then he changed the TEMPO
And we TANGO'd to the sound,
It only took a MINUETTE
His FLAT was very small
And I bowed out, RALLENTANDO,
Before the curtain call.
The PHRASE he used was simple,
STACCATO and quite BASS,
And I gathered from the DIATONIC
Look upon his FACE,
That I'd better ALLEGRETTO
Before he made me stay
To REPEAT FROM THE BEGINNING
In some other RHYTHMIC way.
I CODA stayed, I CODA,
But I JIVE'd off to the BAR
And COMPOSED myself a moment
With an iced TONIC SOL-FA,
TRANSPOSED I felt much better
And called a METRA-NOME
But as I fumbled for my KEYI heard his dulcet TONE,
He said don't worry I'll be BREVE
And then he PAUSE'd to REST
He'd SCALE'd the stairs in DOUBLE TIME
And had to BEAT his chest,
The moment was CHROMATIC
But his TIMING was just right
And when he said "Let's TIE THE DOT"
I had to PLAY BY SIGHT,
My KEY became quite MINOR
As we stood atop the stairs
And I ACCIDENTAL-ly dropped it,
Not altogether fair
Because he had to CROTCHET down
And whilst on bended knee
I answered, AD LIBITUM,
"Yes," in PERFECT HARMONY,
The change in me was MAJOR
My SIGNATURE became
An ORNAMENTAL sounding SHARP
A quite AUGMENTED name,
We learned the RUDEMENTS quite fast,
DUETS were slightly naughty,
He TRILL'd me then and TRILL'S me now,
Although he's well past FORTE.
As he WALTZ'd me a-ROUND,
Then he changed the TEMPO
And we TANGO'd to the sound,
It only took a MINUETTE
His FLAT was very small
And I bowed out, RALLENTANDO,
Before the curtain call.
The PHRASE he used was simple,
STACCATO and quite BASS,
And I gathered from the DIATONIC
Look upon his FACE,
That I'd better ALLEGRETTO
Before he made me stay
To REPEAT FROM THE BEGINNING
In some other RHYTHMIC way.
I CODA stayed, I CODA,
But I JIVE'd off to the BAR
And COMPOSED myself a moment
With an iced TONIC SOL-FA,
TRANSPOSED I felt much better
And called a METRA-NOME
But as I fumbled for my KEYI heard his dulcet TONE,
He said don't worry I'll be BREVE
And then he PAUSE'd to REST
He'd SCALE'd the stairs in DOUBLE TIME
And had to BEAT his chest,
The moment was CHROMATIC
But his TIMING was just right
And when he said "Let's TIE THE DOT"
I had to PLAY BY SIGHT,
My KEY became quite MINOR
As we stood atop the stairs
And I ACCIDENTAL-ly dropped it,
Not altogether fair
Because he had to CROTCHET down
And whilst on bended knee
I answered, AD LIBITUM,
"Yes," in PERFECT HARMONY,
The change in me was MAJOR
My SIGNATURE became
An ORNAMENTAL sounding SHARP
A quite AUGMENTED name,
We learned the RUDEMENTS quite fast,
DUETS were slightly naughty,
He TRILL'd me then and TRILL'S me now,
Although he's well past FORTE.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Vrahassi Bone House
If you put my bones in a cardboard box
Please don't be so hasty,
DRACULA SNACKS may be quite good
But bones are not so tasty
Besides it doesn't look just right
When other casks are oak'
To have an ad of 'TASTY SNACKS'
In fact it's quite a joke
Do you suppose the Verger knew
Perhaps it was a dare
Whichever way you look at it
It doesn't seem quite fair
But in the bone house one such box
I saw amongst the racks
In truth it bore the 'vertisment
'DRACULA TASTY SNACKS'
(I wrote this after a visit to the grave yard in Vrahassi).
Please don't be so hasty,
DRACULA SNACKS may be quite good
But bones are not so tasty
Besides it doesn't look just right
When other casks are oak'
To have an ad of 'TASTY SNACKS'
In fact it's quite a joke
Do you suppose the Verger knew
Perhaps it was a dare
Whichever way you look at it
It doesn't seem quite fair
But in the bone house one such box
I saw amongst the racks
In truth it bore the 'vertisment
'DRACULA TASTY SNACKS'
(I wrote this after a visit to the grave yard in Vrahassi).
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