Speaking Eryngos

The sea burning,  the heads of blued Thistles nodding now,   You are drift   Ing across the dry grassy   Field of perception.    Above me, Humming with the   Softness of hands in mud,  Words wing and land,  Clutching the branch of hope That this is finally a sign.   The ache between the dunes, tilted  Towards

Why Did You Twist Me Up?

Was the Moon A witness Or an accomplice?  I can’t tell But, Both times It was there Sleepless Swollen eye An overripe orange That I mistook  For the sun Why did you twist me up? I ask the staring eye                                                  Who, Clutching every reply Doubts to confide Even a hiccup                                           Hollow Pulp-less fruit With

That Moment

Film tapes turned to ashes Bare feet on the shore, unable to walk The tied ropes that suffocate me Holding you tight while you slip off My naked ego goes to its knees Carrying the stale bitterness of crying too much Will I wake up from this nightmare again? Will I remove all the blades

The Death of Erekle

Adaptation of Epic of Gilgamesh, Tablet VII. The Death of Enkidu “For his Friend Enkidu Gilgamesh  Did bitterly weep as he wandered the wild:   ‘I shall die, and shall I not then be as Enkidu?  Sorrow has entered my heart!” *** ერეკლეს სიკვდილი    გიგლა ეწევა ბოლო ღერს,  სანთელი ანათებს პალატას.  მისი გული ღრიალს