Vasilios Theodorakis – An Online Author

Strange how we never speak,
But understand each other totally.
We discuss topics for a period of seconds,
Only when vision interacts.
Our eyes form two intersecting plains,
And thus create a true,
Or is it full entity – as it exists in three dimensions.
I find it hard to converse normally,
And hope that the friend is real.
Too many times, searches have been in vain;
Leading to a diminishing hope.
But how can you be wrong,
When your eyes are bottomless wells,
And your friend’s resemble shallow ponds,
That radiate out into infinity?
It does not produce a slight weaving,
But a bond which locks instantly and must be broken, in order to move away.
Not that I wish to break such a bond,
But I find my instincts creating an unwanted response.
Or is it a fear which has developed?
A fear that independence may be stolen;
A fear that I may never be the same?
Thus, my friend is kept at a distance;
Through no fault of the faithful comrade,
But through the selfishness of my own padlocked mind and heart.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(10th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

Not many see it, do they?
The horizon does seem like a better place for it, doesn’t it?
The sky is blue? – tell me.
And I am a person? – please answer.
Why doesn’t anyone listen when I speak?
Is this what they say to themselves?
Are their minds a jumble, or just blank.
What drives their actions?
They watch the Ethiopians, the Indians, the Africans.
“How unfortunate,” they sigh.
“Such a sorrowful sight indeed.”
“Shall we help?”
“Of course.”
One hundred and fifty kilo’s
Moves pen over cheque.

Who is really lacking here?
A mind void of logic?
A mind of useless fantasy?
A mind of endless excuses?
Or is it the dehydrated image of a human,
Who swears he’d be able to achieve all his dreams if only he had food.
Such is the case;
Poverty occurs in the mind long before it is found externally.
Thus, is it really a “lack of possessions”, as they say?
I’ve watched two of equal wealth –
One with a twig, built a garden;
The other, made a fire that lasted forty seconds.
Yes they are both human, and yes, mistakes are made,
But isn’t it about time they were made just once
And not nine-hundred and one times?

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(9th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)