my greek phone is dying it made me feel special with all its greek bells and whistles flying greek alphabet and greek wake-you-up jingle
it's a smart phone it once saved me when an athens bus brought me to a mountain top or when a crazy woman rushed me on a dark boulevard shrieking "I know what you've done!"
it's got my daily alarms texts from my greek lover and songs he sent to calm me when I said it was over but they're all gone now with a factory reset that didn't fix anything
every minute or so people say "you're gone again... can you repeat that?" i'm tired of repeating myself tired of the disappearing act
i'm grieving the end of a marriage i'm grieving the end of a romance and my phone is helping me again by dying "o kosmos mas, esi" efharisto! signomi!
Returning to an old city for a new life it isn't easy Around every corner are memories and buses take routes never anticipated past the lying-in hospital where my first son was born and where every year he returned with croupe the threat of laryngectomy pressing against his throat and my breasts overflowing with the milk denied him
I accidentally walked past the nw children's theater where my second son studied Hamlet Where was I then? Depressed miles away in a bed I couldn't get out of but somehow or other I caught every performance If they only knew how much I loved them
I drove past the old TV station where I worked in the 80s I spent five years training teachers in the fine art of cross curricular television I put everything into it while the man I married walked a tightrope between love and alcohol He slipped and fell I couldn't catch him and by then I wasn't sure I wanted to but I wanted to: I went crazy resigned from my job tried to save the whole damned world wound up in a hospital
They say you can't go back but you can I've proved it I'm willing to take responsibility I'm eager to forgive and be forgiven Until then I'll just keep riding buses rounding corners remembering the love that never dies
When you nailed me to the cross with your hate-filled speech I bled a little, rolled my eyes and then expired I wasn't going to hang around and let you sever my head kick it down the hill and send it into the abyss where it would spin in a gravity-less space big enough to get lost in forever No, I expired, a hundred-years faint that I carried in my heart and wore on my face like a mask of sadness I couldn't hide it and everyone who saw me would say, "You look so sad! What happened?" and I would poo-poo them full of misplaced shame and wanting to protect them "I just have sad eyes It's nothing" but inside I was dying remembering your cruelty when what I needed most was love and compassion Like a fool I found you again and again in one form or another brother, mother, child, lover and the cycle would begin the hammer, the sickle, the chopping block, the volley I guess I took it on because I couldn't love myself but I've been practicing: Every moment that your whip embedded in my brain matter begins to crack and sting I've trained myself to answer "I accept myself fully and unconditionally right here, right now" and the whip flies from your hand and from my head and a great calm descends upon my spirit
Then I say "I accept you too fully and unconditionally right here, right now" but I don't want you in my life anymore if you think you can ever speak to me like that again I love myself too much to listen to your vulgar judgments those hard lies you tell yourself to feel superior that you pronounce as easily as a killer kills -- Good riddance, all abusers! Your raging star is no longer the center of my universe I don't care who you are It's over I am free
I could languish over Thermopylaes then throw myself into the sea but I won't do it I'm so glad I washed the dishes and my teeth last night before I hit the bed Bad habits sneak in so easily the self-pity the paralysis the disgust like a lifelong practice of apathy and self-abuse Now I try not to give up put one foot forward then trudge make a phone call finish the novel open up the window greet the day then remind myself one more time that I'm worth it
A long sigh of exhaustion after a lifetime of love and of things resembling love I wasn't perfect I committed myself when commitment was clearly wrong and I withdrew myself when I felt threatened I married and married like a mail-order bride without a dowry and I was passed around like a dollar bill until I felt used and dirty I woke up in a foreign country with another ring upon my finger and nothing inside to claim as my own so I started on this sabbatical vowing to study myself for as long as it took to reclaim my honor to love myself and become an honest person Every day requires courage to look into that mirror admit my transgressions then amend them My addiction to relationships sends out little hooks to catch fish and then I realize I don't want them and take the barbs out of my own skin I'm on sabbatical I remind myself I'm not lonely only growing millimeter by millimeter It doesn't matter As long as it takes as high as it goes as deep as the ocean is the love in my own soul
Here as I sit
At this empty cafe
Thinking of you
I remember
All those moments
Lost in wonder
That we'll never
Find again
Though the world
Is my oyster
It's only a shell
Full of memories
And here by the Seine
Notre-Dame casts
A long lonely shadow
Now - only sorrow
No tomorrow
There's no today for us
Nothing is there
For us to share
But yesterday
These cities may change
But there always remains
My obsession
Through silken waters
My gondola glides
And the bridge - it sighs ...
I remember
All those moments
Lost in wonder
That we'll never
Find again
There's no more time for us
Nothing is there
For us to share
But yesterdays
Ecce momenta
Illa mirabilia
Quae captabit
In aeternum
Memor
Modo dolores
Sunt in dies
Non est reliquum
Vero tantum
Comminicamus
Perdita
Tous ces moments
Perdus dans l`enchantement
Qui ne reviendront
Jamais
Pas d'aujourd'hui pour nous
Pour nous il n'y a rien
A partager
Sauf le passé
Mikis Theodorakis turned 90 on July 29th, 2015. Hronia pola, maître et patriote! This is a painting by Efthymio Warlamis, one of 130 paintings from the life of Mikis Theodorakis I saw in Lamia, Greece, in 2012.
A beautiful song from a poem by Odysseas Elytis, music by Theodorakis. The video, with English subtitles, uses clips and images from the film "Iphigenia" by Michalis Cacoyiannis.
Adieu αγάπη μου Νάσαι καλά mon amour Je te souhaite un bon succès un autre amour et de la paix Peut-être un jour il y aura pardon car nous n'étions que d'enfants dans un chateau de sable et ça fond n'est-ce pas? Mais nous voilà nous allons vivre
"For the Lamed-waf are the hearts of the world multiplied, and into them, as into one receptacle, pour all our griefs.” — from Le dernier des justes by Andre Schwarz-Bart
I am Lamed-vov the last of the just and I'll tear my hair out before I'm done if God will permit me and of this indeed nothing is less certain for I must stand and bear it all as recompense for what I've done and what came before when I was nary a thought a dove on an olive branch that traversed the great Mediterranean cradle and its salt-encrusted air clung to my skin and made it brittle
The ultimate rejection by everyone I loved is not a simple fruit to carry in one's womb but a heavy pit of infinite sadness every bit as unbearable as Demeter's grief or any mother who lost her child to death or misfortune or rejection choose your poison or an unjust God will choose it for you and then you will cleave to him because he is all you have left abandoned in the middle of the great forest
Your little clay hut molded by your hands out of water and mud a tepid oil lamp burning on the hearthstone beads running through your fingers upon which you count the names of everyone you've loved the dearly departed the vagabonds and the children alive and buried and each one a blessing Thamar - Hans Collaert
In the beginning we weren't savages A
l'origine on habitait pas la cage
In the beginning we didn't live in
cages Au premier signe on libérait les otages
At the first signal we liberated the
hostages A l'origine on faisait pas l'étalage
In the beginning we didn't make window
displays De nos racines, on avait pas d'héritage
From our roots we didn't have a
heritage A 10 centimes, on était pas si volage
At 10 cents, we weren't so fickle Dieu
Dieu ... Dieu que c'est loin
God God... God it's long ago
A
l'origine on était pas des esclaves
In the beginning we weren't slaves A
l'origine on quittait pas son enclave
In the beginning we didn't leave our
enclaves D'origine la vie n'était qu'une seule phrase
In the beginning life was just one
phrase Sibylline, on mettait pas les pleins gaz
Prophetic we didn't leave the gas
on Les mandarines avaient un goût de bettraves
Mandarines had a taste like
beets Citadine on attendait dans les caves
City slickers we waited in caves Mieux
mieux... Mieux que rien
Better better... better than
anything
A l'origine on avait pas des prothèses
In the beginning we didn't have
prothetics A l'origine on disait moins de foutaises
In the beginning we said less nonsense
A l'origine on avait moins de facettes
In the beginning we had fewer facets De
tour d'usine et pas besoin de prophètes
Factory work and no need for
prophets A l'origine les poules n'étaient pas des nuggets
In the beginning chickens weren't
nuggets Et pas d'usines et les poupées des puppets
And no factories and dolls and
puppets Dieu Dieu... Dieu que c'est loin
God God... God it's long ago
A
l'origine on avait pas des pétards
In the beginning we didn't have
shooters De carabines mais les cheveux en pétards
Of rifles but blown-up hair
(disheveled) Dans le dressing on cachait pas de cadavre
In the dressing room we didn't hide
cadavers A l'origine on était pas si macabre
In the beginning we weren't so
macabre A l'origine il n'y avait pas les images
In the beginning there were no
images Les speackerines faisaient encore des massages
TV announcers still gave massages Dieu
mieux ... c'est mieux que rien
God better, it's better than
anything
Je ne sais pas si nous étions les pires
I don't know if we were worse Et si
déjà nous révions d'en finir
And if we already dreamed of finishing
ourselves off A l'origine tout n'était qu'un mystère
In the beginning everything was just a
mystery Pas de fadas d'intifada naguère
No fate of recent intifadas
A l'origine on passait pas le message
In the beginning we didn't pass
messages A sa voisine on faisait pas de chantage
We didn't blackmail our neighbors À
la cantine il n'y avait pas de potage
In the cafeteria, there wasn't any
stew De carabines, de messagers de passages
Rifles, messengers of passages A
Colombine il va y avoir un carnage
In Colombine there was going to be a
carnage En haut des cimes il n'y avait que des nuages
Over the summit, there were only
clouds Dieu Dieu... Dieu que c'est loin
God God... God it's long ago
À
l'origine on n'était pas des occases
In the beginning we weren't bargains À
l'origine on faisait pas dans l'oukase
In the beginning we didn't make
edicts A l'origine on faisait dans le détail
In the beginning we created in detail A
l'origine on était pas du bétail
In the beginning we weren't cattle À
l'origine on faisait pas des entailles
In the beginning we didn't make
gashes Longilignes, on n'ouvrait pas les entrailles
Slender types, we didn't open the
entrails Mieux mieux ... mieux que moins
Better better... better with less
A
l'origine on était pas des minables
In the beginning we weren't wretches A
l'origine on piratait pas le cable
In the beginning we didn't pirate the
cable
A l'origine il y avait moins de
vocables
In the beginning there was less
terminology Entre les lignes on était bcp moins stables
Between the lines we were much less
stable À l'origine il n'y avait pas le Mossad
In the beginning there was no Mossad On
s'y résigne, on était pas si maussade
One resigned oneself, one wasn't so
grumpy Dieu Dieu... Dieu que c'est loin
God God... God it's long ago
A
l'origine on n'avait pas peur de l'antraxe
In the beginning we weren't afraid of
anthrax De la famine, de la famille de Karl Marx
Of famine, of the family of Karl Marx A
l'origine on avait pas des Rolex
In the beginning we didn't have
Rolexes Ou des Longines on n'avait pas de Solex Or Longine watches
we didn't have Solexes A l'origine tout n'était pas si complexe
In the beginning everything wasn't so
complex A l'origine tout n'était qu'un pretexte
In the beginning everything wasn't a
pretext Crois moi trois fois rien
Believe me, three times nothing
Je
ne sais pas si nous étions les mêmes
I don't know if we were the same
Les mêmes en pire comment ca va finir
?
The same but worse how will that end
? A l'origine il n'y avait qu'un soupir
In the beginning there was only a
sigh Et pas d'éclair sur ta poupée de cire
And no lightning strike on your wax doll Sur
ta poupée de cire, sur ta poupée de cire
Stumbled on this wonderful video of Jon Batiste and Stay Human while researching... they will be the house band on Stephen Colbert's Late Night. Hey, some needed joy all around! xoxoxoxo
Le monde n'a pas de loi équitable Le monde n'a pas de loi toute humaine Il y a ceux qui l'ont et pas par chance Il y a ceux qui ne l'ont pas dans la balance Nous essayons d'être vus desaparecidos Nous crions dans le centre tout au mundo Cet homme-là a un nom très célèbre Il peut parler avec tous ces généraux A ma télévision Trop de généraux Trop de ces cruels Trop de guerriers Nous ne voulons pas nous avalons Nous ne voulons pas de la guerre Nous réspirons la même air La couleur des oranges de sang Mais ma gorge souvent trop silencieuse Dans la peur de trop généraux Je veux être libre de parler et de chanter En face la guerre sans visage J'avale la paix comme l'eau de vie J'avale la paix et je prie Je n'ai jamais prié comme aujourd'hui Dans ce temps de guerre perpetuelle Il a un nom très célèbre et puis ces pas-de-quoi dans les rues qui n'ont ni nom ni visage ni demeure seulement un veston de printemps Ces pas-de-quoi c'est nous nos frères Et nos sœurs tous prisonniers Pendus entre toutes ces guerres Qui sera le prochain?
Carl Olof Larsson - Modèle écrivant une carte postale, 1906
pour mon amie Annie
Numéro un éviter les vieux ivrognes ceux qui balladent de bar en bar en prétendant vous aimer mais secrètement essayant de séduire la femme à coté qui est plus belle que vous et plus riche et qui va partir en Europe demain peut-être lui attaché Numéro deux ne pas couper les cheveux même si votre ex-mari insiste et jamais assez courts mais plus encore tandis que votre autre ex- les aimait longs et rouges avec un rouge à lèvre coordiné et vous faisiez poupée, koukla et plus encore... pute Numéro trois être discipliné sans besoin d'un autre pour vous discipliner vous avez 58 ans vous n'êtes pas enfant alors dire oui ou dire non mais sachez que c'est votre propre choix à prendre tout seul et oui avec toutes ses conséquences mais voilà la liberté
Numéro quatre lire et lire sans cesse car il y a tant de belles choses à découvrir dans les livres et ça va vous inspirer et vous écrirez et ces mots feront votre bonheur jusqu'à la fin vous ne vous abandonnerez pas votre vie renouvelée vous attend dans votre chambre
In the rocket ricocheting off my skin that deeply held regret missing missing missing one's ancient homeland or our hands clasping or throwing oneself into the Aegean laughing all of it, shit... it's got to stop. My heart keeps opening up like a surgical wound and no amount of peroxide no amount of time is healing it. It wasn't enough to slam you to the floor and send you packing: the need for you goes on and on like hunger like greed like the opposite of mercy. I'm a condemned woman I condemn myself and I bleed perpetual regret: it's folly. You're gone and I know it. I must forgive myself forgive you forgive everything.
