Vasilios Theodorakis – An Online Author

Tranquillity extends itself,
Innocence reigns supreme,
Beauty astounds the senses,
And love has no reason but to dream.

It could stop, but doesn’t;
Destroy, but never will;
It has no destiny or ancestry;
And thus, never needs to show or tell.

Few really understand its meaning,
And attempt to answer why.
But those who do are dreaming,
And never tell because they’re shy.

Thus, the leaves move to and fro together;
While the breeze, quiet and gentle does calm;
The ant carrying the leg and feather,
Recites a silent, environmental psalm.

I watch the moss begin to thicken,
As the gum trees start their final bloom;
But when the time comes to be leaving,
I realise, I’m still within my tiny room.

And so I hear a noisy knocking.
And so I hear footsteps deep.
Too bad it can’t last forever,
And only when you’re alone, or they’re asleep.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1984
(2nd poem written in 1984 – exact date of writing unknown)

Love……
It flows, mesmerises, enriches,
But most of all completes.
It has no defined borders,
No set meaning,
No purpose.
It is a useless gift, some sarcastically believe;
A torture we are made to suffer;
A fish bone lodged in the heart – which also doesn’t logically exist.
But how in all the vastness of the ether,
Do they explain:
      The warmness of friendship;
      The gentleness a craftsman has for his wood;
      The security between mother and babe;
      The innocence of generosity amongst a few;
      And the sacrifice of life for another.
Could it be; just a wonderful dream
That we taste,
Digest,
And imagine we use for power?
Or can we really believe in its reality,
When there are, no universal standards;
No logical methods of comparison;
No way of proving to others.
Thus we were given ‘The Knowledge’
That throughout human eternity, there would remain three things:
      Faith……
      Hope……
      Love……
Not knowledge that is believed,
Not matter which is observed,
And not energy that is used;
But instead realities greater,
And realities simpler,
Realities useful,
And realities impractical.
Therefore, three traits that are no less than universal,
But three traits that follow a central entity;
An entity known as,
      Love……

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1984
(1st poem written in 1984 – exact date of writing unknown)

Speak your words of wisdom Sir,
I like to listen to your thoughts.
Yes; We do both appear out of place;
You in your cage;
Me in my race.

We watch from behind a window closed;
Is it barred or can we fly through?
The problems issue past our eyes.
No need to touch, no need to worry;
Though inside we always find we do.

We’re looked upon as deaf and dumb,
Never extending our simple minds;
But we share a secret;
Is it not?
One in which we can survive and they cannot.

We have suffered, our generations gone.
We have have watched, while they rest in sleep.
We have fought for rights they see as “rot”,
And we have shielded from their blows;
At their feet.

And what, may I ask have we both achieved?
Very little to the naked eye.
A standing point which they believe can be hit,
And hit.
Until they see us eventually die.

But little do they know my small, young friend,
That both of us will survive in mind and in soul;
With our ways and thoughts lodged hard in pride.
Never quivering at their ways……
And why will we never quiver?
You ask me now.
Well, because they cannot touch us.
Not even when……
Yes; Not even when, our life begins to end.

Dedication (For Yanko Riziloudzins)
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(11th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

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)

Warp or eternity;
Which do you choose?
Do we have to believe?
Is it something created a short time ago?
Once there was no such thing;
No problem of tomorrow;
No early death to destroy a thousand year old dream.
What is it really?
Maybe a figment of our imagination;
But that can’t be,
As we see things change, grow and mature.
We define it as a standard unit,
But then only because we notice our surroundings physically.
Take away our senses;
Is there time or constant continuation?
Are we suspended?
Or is it that nothing happening is the true phase,
And we live in the out of phase of change.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(8th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

Its misery bites;
What more can you say.
Walking down a street,
Through a school;
Alone, but yet so surrounded by faces.
Faces which hold back because of facial features.
Faces which aim sharp sounds at your ears.
Faces that are too scared to say sorry.
And faces that are not brown or black.
New Australian, they say;
How can it be?……
Does not birth align you with a Nationality, and a pride for the bush?
Does not the internal patriotism far outweigh the outer shell?
Or is it, that strange ideals irritate their bones,
And upset their sense of pseudo-purity.
Ironic, is it not?
Dark skins were the real owners;
Original and proud, therefore forced to mould unnaturally or die.
Imports form ancient lands were brought;
Rigid in traditions and ways for centuries;
Rolled into newspaper after serving a purpose and expected to disappear.
Which, they now realise does not occur.
Strange, but then does it not make sense?
The first here as well as the invited, were rejected by a pride as strong as it was blind.
Fortunately though, some still see,
And supply a help which many find is a lot better than none.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(7th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

The story is only half told in each case.
The martial arts understand but do not say what,
The religions say what but few understand.
Combined we get a whole picture;
An energy gift we all possess;
Something given to us to develop,
Not force!
Something which should flow;
Something absent from man in zero A.D./B.C. ,
But present in everyone today.
Only it must be searched for to become apparent.
It is not like our material world – but is in some ways, similar.
It helps you control your mind and body,
Understand your surroundings,
And reveal “truth”.
But it has been abused, forgotten and in our time impossibly hard for people to find.
Unless, they are shown.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(6th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

Inside; and no way out.
Built up by portraits on paper.
Why am I within?
Locked there,
Told – become something to earn a living.
But what if…… what if……
You don’t want a living.
What if, all you ever want to do is wonder, look, question…… discover!
Is it wrong?!
“They”,
Tell me it is.
“They” say there is no spirit…… no God.
When there is.
“They” pressure you – don’t think about things,
Just take my word for it;
When I can’t.
People say, feel with your body;
But I say, to feel with your spirit is a greater achievement.
I can see their point of view.
But how can you do something that is not a branch sprouting from your body?
I must admit;
No matter what they say or do,
I can’t,
And hopefully never will.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(5th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)

Like an apple falling and depositing its seeds;
I feel reconditioned;
My mind is ready;
My power is strong enough to diminish suggestions,
And pointing me in the right direction.
I’d like to tell the world the secret;
But what’s the use;
Isn’t it safer, that those who want to know, find out for themselves,
And enquire if they are earnest.
For independence of thought always brings about uniqueness.

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1983
(4th poem written in 1983 – exact date of writing unknown)