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Our situation was absurd. Improbable. Impossible even the voice of reason screamed. But we knew this from the start. So we banished the voice. We were so happy. Our minds and souls joined in perfect harmony and in fingers entwined we held the universe— the universe we built with the audacity of the young. In our brave new world, we dared do what others feared. A world free from all the chains and all the limits of convention. And when our lust was sated we lay in that secret place where lovers go to dream and whisper poems to the wind. English post introduction A few words about the poem… A Coming-of-Age Poem: An Objective Exploration of 'A Love Story T his coming-of-age poem, part of the collection Cyprus Poems, explores the theme of forbidden love and the defiance of societal norms. The author's choice of words, though not overly evocative, conveys a sense of the unconventional nature of the relationship. The opening lines set the tone, describing the situation as "absurd" and "improbable," emphasizing the perceived impossibility of their love by the voice of reason. However, the poem takes a turn as the narrator and their lover choose to "banish the voice" and embrace their love with happiness. This shift represents a departure from societal expectations and a willingness to defy convention. The use of phrases like "joined in perfect harmony" and "held the universe" subtly conveys the intensity of their connection. The poem also touches on the idea of youth and audacity, highlighting the impulsive and fearless nature of their love. The phrase "a world free from all the chains and all the limits of convention" emphasizes their desire to break free from societal constraints. Towards the end, the poem becomes more introspective, describing a moment of contentment and reflection in a "secret place." This moment of intimacy is portrayed as a space where lovers can dream and share their innermost feelings.

The Sixties was a good time to be young but you had barricades inside your head. Alarm bells and sirens went off every time you tried to cross the line. Resisting all thoughts of impropriety you fought me off with so much bravery and all year long you wore a cross of sainthood around your blushing neck. You needed to be faithful, you told me, to the one who said he would respect you. Funny though, you were never really happy. Not once did I see a smile on your face. Fires were burning your modest flesh torturing you without mercy. Frightened, you found comfort in your books and solace in your daily prayers. A slave to the sin of piety, prudence was riding heavy on your pious shoulders and the year went by, our time wasted— you wanting me and me wanting you. A few words about the poem… The Sin of Piety and Repression of Desire - A Coming-of-Age Poem This coming-of-age poem, part of the series Cyprus Poems, journeys through the tumultuous landscapes of the Sixties, a decade steeped in change and revolution. Delicate threads of love and loss are woven, inviting contemplation of the human heart's yearnings. The backdrop of the era provides a nostalgic ambiance, setting the stage for the inner struggles of youth to unfold. As the poem weaves its narrative, it creates a compelling exploration of emotions, emphasizing the raw beauty of vulnerability in human relationships.. The heart of this poem lies in evoking a myriad of emotions—nostalgia, empathy, and introspection. The interplay of love and loss acts as a mirror, reflecting a journey through life's labyrinth. As the poem traverses the Sixties, it does not merely recount events but intertwines the personal experiences of the young teenagers who navigate through that transformative era. The poem becomes a vessel through which the inner struggles of youth are exposed, as their struggles, their dreams, and their dilemmas become an intricate dance of emotions, resonating across time and space.

In the beginning, the situation seemed hopeless. We were overwhelmed. We duelled on it for days, we argued over it for months. What were the choices, we asked. I wanted to climb every mountain we came across, you wanted to walk around instead. Every time we came near a cliff, I tried to jump. Each time you held my hand and saved me. You looked up and saw my head up in the clouds; I looked down and saw your feet firmly on the ground. For a moment we panicked. We wanted to run but we were in love and stayed together. A few words about the poem… Love Conquers All: Couple's Leap of Faith | A coming-of-Age Poem The coming-of-age poem "Choices" explores the intricate dynamics within a relationship while delving into the complexities of decision-making during challenging circumstances. The poet navigates through various themes, using distinct imagery and contrasting perspectives to convey the inner conflicts and eventual resolutions that arise within the narrative. At the outset of the poem, a sense of hopelessness and overwhelm becomes palpable, reflecting a situation that demands critical consideration. Through prolonged deliberation and discourse, the poem introduces the central theme of contrasting viewpoints. These opposing stances reveal the intricacies of choices, inviting the reader to engage in a nuanced exploration of differing approaches. By employing metaphors of mountain climbing and circumventing, the poem illustrates the divergence in the characters' attitudes toward obstacles. This dichotomy is further emphasized through the vivid imagery of cliffs and precipices. The tension created by one individual's impulsive leaps and another's steadfast restraint captures the essence of risk-taking versus cautiousness, which lies at the heart of their dynamic. The poem's portrayal of divergent perceptions is a noteworthy aspect that adds depth to the narrative. The portrayal of one person looking upwards and another gazing downwards reinforces the contrasting vantage points the characters hold. This conveys a subtle depiction of their outlooks, characterizing one as idealistic and the other as grounded. This contrast contributes to the multifaceted portrayal of their relationship. In its denouement, the poem offers a poignant reflection on the choices made and their impact on the characters' bond. The decision to remain together, despite their differences and challenges, epitomizes the complexities inherent in relationships. This conclusion serves as a reflection of human nature itself – acknowledging that embracing differences and forging a path forward necessitates understanding, acceptance, and compromise. In conclusion, the poem "Choices" explores the intricacies of a relationship by examining the challenges, decisions, and resolutions that shape the characters' journey. The poem's exploration of choices and their consequences within the context of a relationship offers valuable insights into the human experience, inviting contemplation on the intricacies of decision-making and its impact on connections between individuals.

The circus will perform    tonight in a bleak and distant land. They brought with them monsters and warrior kings stunning queens and wild beasts and lorryloads full of dreams. For the people's entertainment they proclaim a show that will shock, amaze and thrill. A youth watches lost in dreams. Spellbound, he resolves to run away to a life of danger and daring feats— the fearless star of the high trapeze. But when morning comes, his will weakens and his dreams wilt. Λίγα λόγια για το ποίημα... A Coming-of-Age Poem and the Fragility of Imagination Within the sombre embrace of a desolate town, rejected and abandoned by both gods and demons, the verses of the coming-of-age poem "The Circus," crafted by the pen of Cyprus poet Chris Zachariou, come alive. A vivid tapestry of coming-of-age unfolds against a backdrop of shattered dreams and forgotten hopes. "The Circus" emerges as a resplendent realm of dreams and enchantment, like a secret oasis in a barren wasteland. It arrives in the town with trucks filled to the brim with fantasies, creatures of myth, and majestic beasts. Kings and queens, princes and princesses adorn this grand spectacle, captivating the hearts of all who bear witness. Amidst the audience, a young man stands bewitched by the allure of "The Circus." Lost in reverie, the vibrant imagery fuels his imagination, and he envisions himself as the brightest star in the trapeze act, a daring and celebrated acrobat defying gravity with each graceful leap. His aspirations, once tethered to the mundane reality of the town, soar high in the realms of possibility. Drawn deeper into the intoxicating world of the circus, the young dreamer contemplates an audacious escape, a leap into the unknown where his fantasies can intertwine with reality. The circus whispers a promise of freedom, adventure, and limitless potential. It becomes a sanctuary where he believes he can discover his identity, away from the confines of the mundane existence that surrounds him. However, as the first rays of morning light pierce through the horizon, illuminating the town with its harsh reality, the young man's resolve wavers. The dreams that once burned brightly within him begin to dim, fading into the pale light of day. The weight of uncertainty and the fear of the unknown bear heavily upon his fragile spirit, overshadowing the allure that once beckoned him. "The Circus" becomes a metaphor for the fragility of dreams and the ephemeral nature of youth. It explores the transformative power of imagination, the clash between desire and reality, and the sacrifices one must make to navigate the tumultuous journey of self-discovery. "The Circus" invites us to ponder the choices we face, the allure of escapism, and the delicate balance between chasing our dreams and confronting the limitations of our circumstances. It is a poignant reminder that sometimes, the most profound journeys occur within the confines of our own minds.

unblemished the rose blooms on the bridal bed with no other chart to guide her but for the chart of love tonight, the white rose buds to the heat of youth her fruit the sweetest gift and this their first night a journey without an end

Swarms of locust shade the midday sun; they burn the trees they devour the dove they rape the land. “The Archangel is dead,” the town crier whimpers. “Hail the new Archangel,” he snivels on his knees and the shadow of a red horse commands the town. “His Excellency decrees you will leave by nightfall,” the new crier proclaims to anyone left behind to listen. I gather my life in a tiny bundle and make my way to the border. The road is strewn with the bodies of young soldiers and medals from the chests of fleeing heroic generals. “Why does the sun rise from the west?” a little boy asks his grieving father. “I'm cold,” an old man sobs then he crumbles to the ground and dies. “Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child Holy Infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace Sleep in heavenly peace” A mother suckles her wasted child, but its eyes are full of death, and from a place far away we hear the sound of Christmastide.

With a simple brush stroke, the master painter builds for you a castle of vast rooms with high shelves all stacked with silent heads. You always sought to live in such a weird world of silence with a moat of angry words around you. Every time I come to you, you scream: "There is no room for you in my inn." But why do you leave your door unlocked at night, can it be that you really miss me and maybe neither of us wants to be on our own tonight? I devour with a poor man's hunger all the poisoned words you shoot at me each day from across the pond and gorge on them with a rich man's greed. Why did you summon me to your court today? I was certain the next time you’d meet with me would be where failed poets go for shelter. Admittedly, my provocation was thoughtless, I sinned against the meter! Can you not forgive me though and pack me off to art school in Vienna? After all, you prescribed this for another. Casualties are mounting high, hostilities have never ceased and so far you have refused all my offers of a truce. Look out of your battlements, I'm on my way riding an old steed, my armour is getting rusty and the only gifts I bring to you are the words of a jaded scribbler. We both knew one day I would return braving your moat and high walls. You broadcast to the world I'm simply an inconvenience, and that you are happy now. My merciless young queen, I never had selfish ambitions for you like that, I like you too much to want to make you happy, and you know how much alike we are, both blessed with sharp wit and the precious gift of loneliness. Part of the mosaics cycle of poems

Each day the pastor wakes at dawn when the world is pure and clean. In the sleepy glow of sunrise he looks with love at his young bride and listens to her gentle breathing. But he knows his work is to redeem his soul and to save the souls of others. He kisses her softly on the cheek and every day like before, he goes out to the world to do the work of God. In times of sadness and in times of joy his faithful and chaste wife always stands beside the pastor her loving shepherd and her lord. But each night in her lonely hour she clasps her hands in humble prayer and begs Him to remind the pastor that her flesh and soul are sisters and when the flesh is starved of loving her love-starved soul goes hungry too.

The metronome strikes a thousand beats tic, tic, tic, tic. Monotonous and dull. Across the ocean in a country far away a moth cocooned works night and day forging exquisite silk until a day in early spring she breaks out of her prison and the little butterfly flies free. She flaps her wings and starts a storm across the sea. But the metronome keeps taunting the unhappy king tic, tic, tic, tic but it never beats a toc it always beats tic, tic. Part of the   mosaics   cycle of poems

Thank you for the beauty the word and for the song the wisdom and the light

We fought a bitter war a war of sheer brutality. She, with bows and arrows and I, with songs and wine. A war I lost and the wounds and burns from all the raging battles still scar my body and mind. 'Woe to the vanquished' the young queen decreed and cast me prisoner in a very private hell. She threw me crumbs and I welcomed them, I was a poor beggar man starving for her love. She was my tempestuous green sea, my all-consuming passion. Now she plays hide and seek inside my head. From the room of sorrow she runs to the hall of pain but the cruel queen never ever comes to the den of love. It's hard to know now why I loved her harder yet to know that I still do. Part of the   mosaics   cycle of poems

A fragile child with bruised wings you found refuge in the caverns of my troubled mind. I kissed your broken hopes I warmed you with gasping breath and prayed to the gods that you would never leave me. You dazzled me with a splash of bright colours then tried to shock me and demanded my response. A coupling of minds, we fed each other's need for loneliness. At ease —we both knew we were never destined to be lovers— we revelled in the sin of happiness. I was terrified. Strike out first, push the button, wreck, destroy. Banish this deceptive dream. I plunged into that pit and painted all thoughts of us on the walls in black. How I miss your song. Your face is now a prisoner trapped in a hopeless screen. I wonder, did I ever really know you or was I just a stranger in your brilliant life. I put my head above the parapet and look at your happy world. I speak to you but you stay silent and I sink back into my lonely life. Part of the   mosaics   cycle of poems