Poetry Series Joseph S. Josephides - poems - Publication Date: 2014 Publisher: Poemhunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive Joseph S. Josephides(23rd of May,1948) 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 studying ( Maths, B.A. in Economics, Ph.D. in Statistical Economics with Distinction Excellent) while working (23 years in managerial positions of Popular Bank Group which has been associated with the HSBC) . Since 2001 I have more time for my poetry since I only teach MBA courses (Jean Monnet Chair, University of Cyprus, Academy) , I am consultant of governmental and european institutions and I support the Roman Catholic Community of Cyprus, as a decorated Knight of Vatican (Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem,2003) A number of my poems have been translated in many languages and have been included in Anthologies, Literature Magazines, Web Sites for Poetry etc. I myself translate Nombelist Poets (Neruda, Elliot, Szymborska, Morale, Heaney) medieval Chinese poets (Li Po etc) and turkish-cypriot poets (from english to greek) . I will appreciate your comments on my poems. Your rating may contribute to an overall assessment of my poems…So, thank you in advance, dear fellow poet for reading my poems and for your voting. www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 1 A Blue Sky Is Not Afraid Of Any Lightning The death pales when sees the horrors of a tyrant while God doesn’t want Nature to generate slaves, nor minds with conceit or drunkenness, galley without coxswain, so Eryxo hit Laarchos oppressor of Kyrene. - I go to court to be judged, ? would kill again if only I resaved the people’s honor. I watch out the worms who eat the oppressor not to grow as new oppressors. You can’t be proud of a life, that you hide from the sun. Her sky is clear and hence it’s not afraid of lightning, for she says justice is sacred, the most needed debt.* **** It’s difficult to Amasis to judge a beautiful woman, a speechless delusion, a dumb eloquence. In Egypt they dig up the truth from the bottom, with a long net. The law is a coral, but it’s worthy when you wear it, a soul must read the soul in order to justify the soul. Redemption is wind, flowing river, disperses glimmer, a non sunk Isle - not Atlantis that is the prize of none. Behold, the judge had a conscience of untroubled sky so on the beach of his mind turns off the word 'guilty': patriotism never is sent to jail, the brave are honored, after all a blue sky is not afraid of any lightning. © JosephJosephides Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 2 A Detail '…they helped Adam to descend with a robe from a window' It’s just a detail about Arkadi in the booklet for tourists. They sent him for help from chief Coronaeos who shouted ‘You fool, sit here, if you return you will be burned and lost.’’ He disobeyed, disguised he slipped in the dark, returned to the women, the children, the paralysed stood close to priest Gabriel in the lagoon ready for the confession and the massacre: 'To die as free, is my pleasure; death does not exist'. Rumors say that he was thrown in a pit, wherein he now lives on roots and water, St Mary entered him in her icon, as angel with a lily. Others say he climbed on a tree to save an orphan, that hugged him and both ascended, in a compound body. The guide explains calmly what is Sacrifice of the sacrifice Adam Papadakis had chosen death, neglecting sensibility holier than Leonidas, who had to obey the law anyway. '…they helped Adam to descend with a robe from a window', its a detail in the booklet for tourists, but as for you chief Coronaeos, the tourist finally guide concludes: ‘who saves his insignificant self, is not saved at all’. © JosephJosephides Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 3 A New Theory Of Relativity I want a new Theory of Relativity, in full light, so that with a lyre I heave stones, as Amphion did, So that I build new walls, like Zethos at Thebes. I localize your soul if I can calculate the chaos while the space is expanding as the greed, and Pluto burns its diamonds to fuel its motion* with Imagination be the mason of invisible stars, the Big-Bag a chime clock, one among so many. A rule I find: the few are plentier than the fewer, and also the plenty are fewer than the plentier. Meleagre crowned his infant Aridaeos as king also Lykourgos his own Charillos. Relative rules! The white clouds hide behind black metallic birds, here the robots kill human beings and other robots, while the nations shout ‘cra’, my silence is talking, energy reflects antenergy, mass reflects antimaza, but I’m small so my day has just twenty-four hours, God has an infinite number, for his Plan is infinite. Uncertainty governs with shadows; only love is white to that we yield just with an aim to forget who hate us. Love, is the New Theory of Relativity, the only word that I hold as I close my eyes, for a while or forever. ?he ink writes I Love, and flows as spirit in internets. © JosephJosephides Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 4 A Poet Talks To His Unborn Grandkids My country was so pleasant, a habitation in heaven, geraniums, jasmines, serenades, dates for lovers, our hands were created to create and hug people, we laughed at our faults, kept silent when we won, the rain was star-sent, the neighbourhood a feast, the angels, kids and snakes protected our houses, the father instead of mourning his hero son, he run with raffle and cross of life to continue the son’s strife. Suddenly, unborn grandkids, everything disfigured, banks and hyenas invaded your house, alas, bulldozers broke the dolls, ruined the garden no fruits, flowers, crops have been saved for you, with no milk, you’ll be born underweight; I was inert in the night the predator digged the prison and escaped, one day perhaps you find your house ruined by bombs*. smoke may rush in your crib to take away your breath oh, whoever survives don’t listen to me, keep away, being corrupted I destroyed and dissolved my beauty; build up a new nest, away from the waters I polluted. Greedily I have eaten the chocolates they gave me, now me an old man I enjoy slowly the few remaining, few, such as my hours and my soul-mate friends, for empty and foolish I no longer have time or tolerance. Onward grandchildren: oxygen, soil, hold the flag generate a sweet home from the body of truth. © JosephJosephides Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 5 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. I didn’t start without courage or reach without breath. Miracle! I grew a third eye that sees the God’s love multiplying the little people. Thus, I started remunerating their labors, to save the body of the lamb, to lament for the soul of the wolf, to transform into lancets the knives that threat my divided homeland. Mary, one day I'll offer you a trip to Jerusalem, before death pulls me out of the theater of the world, before I move and settle at the rainbow arc; there, I shall go with our children, where the colors stand out but are never divided and compose the white on the grave of my first love. There is the celestial state, where I'll be a citizen AB, AlphaBet concealed for tomorrow, ending in Omega. Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 6 About Love The teacher for religion examines the pupils. 'What is love? ' giving them marks accordingly: 'excellent', to the wealthy and pompous pupil, 'poor', to the needy pupil who talks in brief. Below sun nothing can be kept as secret. During the break, the teacher amazingly sees the wealthy boy aside enjoying his cakes, the poor pupil sharing a bagel with a poor girl. Willy-nilly the teacher took a lesson himself, so now he teaches the class using other words: 'Love is the blind who can see through, is the lame who can run a marathon, is the deaf who can hear as Beethoven did.” The teacher sees love to breastfeed Culture even with her pale and sunken chest.. © JosephJosephides Joseph S. Josephides www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 7 Adonis And Aphrodite (Hai Ku) Transformed as a star through skylight I enter into your sheets You offer me love you give again and again, asking nothing back During burning heat you just move your small lips thus set me on fire To handle your thorns my passion puts on his gloves then caress you The more they squeeze your small flower, the more and more it perfumes You don’t have an harp still I listen to your cords deep in the heartbeat You smother all wars in your arms, and your glances are sharp darts that win I am the sole bee you are the open flower honey be our kiss Create with me in the darkness of the world children of the light Two mouths so sweet they join just in one, www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 8 our bodies too The sky and earth love each other; it rains and forests are born Demetra sows I see absent as present, the desert as feast Your ten fingers move and touch softly the lips of my inner star Charon appeared saw us kissing each other, left unsuccessful.