Joseph S. Josephides
I was born in Cyprus, a brave member-state of the European Union (since 2004) that is fighting constantly to secure liberty, democracy and justice. Those values (plus love) are some of the issues sparkling my poetry. The grandfathers of my parents were born in Italy and France, which both I respect.
I never stopped writing poetry, despite my heavy responsibilities while ... more »
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Joseph S. Josephides Poems
Stretch your hand and open the window, maybe a sunbeam drops in, in a zigzag way, by reflection,
Why, State, your eyes don’t see the Amazon River? Tsiko said 'Amazon is life' and you agreed to save it. Why the horsemen of interests invaded in the night? Their bullet entered Tsiko’s chest but invades your own.
Do They Hear?
Since you hear the notes you do write, birds, leaves, wind, heavy shower, so how come, they consider you a hearing impaired?
Aphrodite And Li Bai
The wine with its grace purifies my grief. When in bed, the two candlesticks are the flames of your very eyes.
‘The two pitchers on pole, hanged on your nape, consider them as your children. Do not ignore the one that is feeble. Give praise to the pitcher on your right that does a good job,
The Other Bird
The other bird am I. I belong to nobody, I don’t wake up and depart just to fetch food, and then get back to sleep and wake up anew.
Goddess In Love
Athena, when you saved us with Hercules from the Stymphalides Fowls, you wanted other things. Neither honours, nor hecatombs.
I Is You
I am the stone, Rimbaud, you are the sun in our Liopetri*, you the wine, me the ship going to the harbour of love, we are two stars joined by the celestial lace.
In The Beginning It Was Spice
I, Antonio Pigafetta, nobleman of Vicenza, highly recommended, I joined the crew of Maggelan on the way to Mollucs, towards the target of spice.
In my short coffee-pot the small bubbles emitting vapour whisper your name.
If invited on ‘Titanic 2’ for trip, have no drunk illusions. Have an eye over the captain; glory grabs the senses; if stimulated by passengers he might fool the engines.
Have you seen that skilful diver who submerges her corpus, and re-baptizes her soul?
Ab, Abraham Lincoln
I was a woodcutter with a sharp ax, I had a smoothed heart, but I was proclaimed as world leader to sign hangings for opponents, to dine the dove of peace roasted, drink soda to digest.
Great Soul - Mahatma Gandhi
This bullet in my body doesn’t prevent me to speak about peace and our wise goddess Saravouati, and the bitter salt of the ocean of cyclones.
Stretch your hand and open the window,
maybe a sunbeam drops in,
in a zigzag way, by reflection,
maybe a star promising a change.
Open the window,
perhaps a person in rush drops a glance inside,
a beauty girl sprinkled by the rain,
a shallow mother that lost her baby.
Open the window,
maybe the ball of the children shows up
their voice perhaps climbs up
a bending branch, a kitten.