Vasilios Theodorakis – An Online Author is a digital repository of all my written work (in text and podcast formats)…

March 27, 2009

Site Update

Filed under: General — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 6:00 pm

Brisbane today looks like any other western city – tall skyscrapers, few public spaces and no character. This wasn’t always the case, back in the mid 1980s it was still an interesting town with many of its older buildings intact. It also had some very quirky personalties wandering its streets and train stations but these too have long ago been replaced by a population that now takes itself far too seriously.

This week’s poem: The Jolly Bunch – was written back in 1987 as a compilation of various experiences I had while catching late night trains at Dutton Park station. In all instances, I was on may way home from university – a place which I hated from the start because of its impersonal nature. I never seemed to tire of observing people’s behaviour however and was often more interested in the personalities on campus as well as the train passengers to and from home. What I was formally studying took a distant second place to my people studies. :) The poem’s structure also pays homage to the essay read out loud in English class by John Cusack’s character in the Rob Reiner film “The Sure Thing”. The piece is very much tongue and cheek and was never intended to be taken seriously.

This week’s highlighted author is: Mem Fox.

Cheers – Vasilios Theodorakis – March 2009

March 20, 2009

Site Update

Filed under: General — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 12:13 am

The poem for this week is: He Made Her Cry…

This piece is another recent poem and falls into the ungrouped category. Its central theme covers how insensitive many men are in regards to their wives’s feelings. It’s based on an amalgam of marriages I’ve observed over the years and includes some of my own marriage’s experiences.

This week’s highlighted author is: Arthur Conan Doyle.

Cheers – Vasilios Theodorakis – March 2009

March 13, 2009

Site Update

Filed under: General — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 5:19 pm

The poem for this week is: Imaginary? Playmates.

This piece belongs to the “Growing Up” anthology and was written in February 1989 – the exact date of writing is unknown. The poem is a juxtaposition on last week’s verse which highlighted how I no longer enjoyed returning to the memories of my childhood. I think enough time has past for me to accept that my childhood wasn’t all “it was cracked up to be”.

In regards to this week’s poem – it explores how our imaginary playmates, hang around even when we choose to ignore them and/or no longer need them. As in the lyrics to “Puff The Magic Dragon“, I think these friends are probably an extension of our human psyche. Who knows, they may even have their own self awareness.

And finally, I’m starting to regret that I didn’t publicly release these poems much sooner – some pieces may have been of use to others during the course of the last 20 years. I suppose releasing them now, ensures its still better late than never, plus, I tend to forget that I didn’t have the luxuary of the World Wide Web back in 1989 (to digitally publish this material). ;)

This week’s highlighted author is: Mark Twain.

Cheers – Vasilios Theodorakis – March 2009

March 6, 2009

Site Update

Filed under: General — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 6:44 pm

The poem for this week is: Everything Is OK.

This piece is a recent ungrouped poem and captures a sense of well being that occurred while stumbling around outside our house. Such moments of grace tend to be few and far in between – especially for individuals like me. One can only hope that their frequency increases, but then again, without life’s little disappointments and emotional tortures, one’s fountain of verse does have a tendancy to dry up. ;)

This week’s highlighted author is: Ray Bradbury.

Cheers – Vasilios Theodorakis – March 2009

March 5, 2009

Everything Is OK

Filed under: Ungrouped — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 6:00 pm

The freshest air,
Arrived this morning, with welcomed relief.
Facing east
And climbing our doorstep,
I allowed it to weave back and forth over my face,
Brush away my hair,
And tug incessantly at my gardener’s shirt.
This simple event
Returned me,
Though momentarily,
To the innocence of childhood.
I knew
It could not last,
But even if it could,
Would I really want it to?
The mind of the child
Only sees the good in everything,
Even if its playground
Is a field of weeds,
Generated by the Spawn of Satan.

I now understand,
That all I saw
Were the multitudes
Of colourful flowers,
Produced by the weeds.
Never realising,
That the weeds themselves
Could rise up
And strangle the admirer,
Whose back was turned.

Yet that was then.
Today, with graying stubble
My sandy lot is cleared,
Made ready
For the growing of food.
And I finally know,
That everything is OK
As I carry my hoe upright,
Into the crisp warmth
Of the Bay’s glassy sunlight.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
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