When, sometimes it is in that time of fore-never

a scarlet rose petal touches upon a puddle

the water would be a mirror-like silver blue reflection

 

In that time of fore-never

where it was they danced

those two had one moment

found between the seconds of time

 

Each a world away from the other

both lost in time

but that night they met on a different plane

 

Where it was time so ancient

one second was forever

then one of them had died

the other, to suffer eternity

 

© All rights reserved 06/01/10 Konstantarou

 

Fierce and independent you stand
I await you with open arms
though you may spit on my name
you shall always have a home

 

When you carry your hate against my name
I cry for you, that is the rain that falls upon your world
I am not many of one name
I am one of many names

 

My most Holy lands are dry
areas across the entire world
they are where my name is revered
they do not see my tears often

 

But even still today
I cry for all, I cry for you

© All rights reserved 04/02/10 Greg Constas

 

In the Aegean
On the rocks
Where it is
She sits

Eumorfia sat upon the stones so far away from the reaches of humanity, it was only ships at sea that feared her. Soft fingers strum strings of misery in her heart of the dying. She would lay harmonies upon this storm ridden night. A clarinet of coral calling across it, the winds. So terribly the storms wrenched upon that ship lost at sea.

The sky screams
Curses in wind
The water pounds
Horror lives

Naukrator pulled ropes with his crew, judging the fierce life of the storm at hand. Torrents of rain pounded against weary arms of the vicious night. No signs of life in the sea on this eve. An empty feeling left in the mind. What curse had been cast upon this vessel and who was the caster. A silent prayer went to Poseidon in hope...in need.

The galley ports
For they burn
A yellowish glow
Show lit

Voithos wandered quickly securing latches, pulling ropes, commanding the men. This night was going to be a fight worse than that of another ships attack. The moon of Midnight casting an ominous eye upon the heart of the dying. Seasoned veterans of the sea contemplating a watery grave by daybreak. Eumorfia smiles, her first orchestration done.

Sea dragon Tromos
All they fear
Stirs itself awake
Caged away

Tromos' cage rocked, those iron bindings rusted from years of salt water decay. The watery prison to small to contain the monster assumed myth held within. The great creature sensed freedom after being held contained for so many years. Its' confiner would be killed, the world would once again feel its' wrath in this new wake of supremacy. It growled vengeance.

© All rights reserved 1-13-10 Grigous Konstantarou
Greg Constas

 

it was into the night
so started the new day
upon which it falls but once a year
who is it that you are
a Ginger for me
only for
Ladies of the Crimson lore

across the page words may fall
written for one but given to all

let us for a moment discuss a kiss

so softly to you
laid upon your cheek
a welcome
a greeting
to you my friend
may it be so warm
a heart of yours
upon it shall live in cherish
when under the sky of a Crimson winter moom
may you wonder what it might be like
soft poetry upon your ear
hands held together
we shall briefly fall into each others eyes

let Midnight keep us warm
within it her purple blanket of night
to be hung around shoulders

a kiss upon your skin so warm
the violins play symphonie fantastique
listen to their wound strings purr
it is under the finger of the bow

shall we dance one more night
it is within these delicate moments
for you the first time
upon this night
I may wish it

Happy Kiss a Ginger day to you
one day perhaps a sapphire smile in your eyes

© All rights reserved 1-13-10 Grigous Konstantarou
Greg Constas

 

To dance upon in a dream of night
the calming waters letting all life be taken in
places in which two sets of footprints can wash away
for upon a dream of night
it was under such a canvas of brilliance
the hues from purples to greens

The seas tide comes ashore
always on a night of a dance
one moment to soon
taking the footprints away
erasing a memory
those two ghosts
they might remain upon the eyes of night
inside thoughts of each other

Through many ages gone and forgotten
bottles thrown into the sea
a young man held sway over a swollen cork
those words trapped for so long
took upon flight
for the note was past

Upon dried papyrus
sun bleached ink
the black powder turned hard over time
these were the words

To a mother, a teacher,a daughter, a sister and a friend
from a Greek.

A tale of Midnight and her embrace:

Let us hold hands for a moment in a dream
a celebration to your mother and mine of lore
let us walk with barefoot in her woods
upon it
leaves so soft
a radiance of fire showing upon the leaves of fall
dance with me in the curtain of night
the October moon so high above
mother Gaia so warn upon you
do you ever feel her energy burn within
deep down inside
i ask it of you
look to your mother
her knowledge's go across the land

A pause

So softly draw a breathe upon the wind hold silent
do you hear her speaking to you
words so gently upon your ear
it is hidden beneath those crimson locks
feel her hand on your shoulder as she leans

Listen

Words so soft as she kisses you goodbye

Awaken

On the stone bed in which you lay
so soft the moss beneath your head
where, who , what
how is it you have arrived here
every tender beauty of life
look all around to the mother and fawn
to father and cub
upon your left
a great maple
for he has covered your flesh in leaves so soft

Silk
they lay upon your body
glimpes of the sun all randomly placed rays
burrowing their way in
the leaves bending away from rays

In this one moment
the memory washes ashore
last night truly happened
it was alive in the mind of one

The poet

Painting you into a canvas of time
your record of existence in time
words arranged and exchanged

All you have is a summation
wrapped up in a bottle
hold it warmly against your heart
when you close your eyes
you shall be affected by the spell

This is what it might look like
a memory of a dance
that you never had

A poet did:

Violin whispers lay gentle sounds
so softly it is upon your heart
slow dance symphonies swirl
ever so kindly upon your graces
stars above you so high above
barely lower than the great purple cloaks
where wrapped inside are the hearts of dreams
tomorrow is always new to life
gentle winds come from the sea
air so fresh a thousand existances
they rush into your soul
hand in hand a dance
my fingers wrapping yours in to closed fists gently
your left hand it lays within
a dream
your right hand it lays within
a memory

© All rights reserved 1-12-10 Grigous Konstantarou
Greg Constas

 

so softly upon the kiss of dawn
the dancer stretched so quietly
the soft sounds of violins
washing those white walls in brilliance
fore she looked upon the studio
flame stained the walls warmed
hues of pinks and purple sang harmonies
a finely crafted bow
steel bound string skin
taught and precise

her hair pulled back
it would be tied up
a golden crested sun
it was upon her head

fresh eyes upon a morning
they burned with such hope
a new day
a new dance

a poet sat upon thought
for this time she was his muse
a dance was taken place
a spell was taking place
with it words they were
cast upon the page

the heart of the wordcrafter
upon the spell
it was where the blood fell

her blood so very rich
it was said in lores
would drink of spell in praise
it was this day

we all see the caster of those words

look into his hands and see that subtle glow
there were words upon the winds
so quietly they were whispered
laying upon her
only mere hours later
landed

she dropped one single tear upon the page
the parchment was kissed by the angel
with a smile upon her face she thought of that wordcrafter
a warm smile forever he held a place in her heart
when the sky was grey
in a time when the sun died away
she knew she was all she was worth
these words were written only for her

the dance began

so softly on her small feet
she was a master of the floor
movements fluid precision
not one misstep as her essence guided her
the dance
her dance had begun

what is followed in this script
it was a tale from a bottle in the Aegean
so many before her walked this path
their memories
ghosts gently smiling upon her mind
carried she was upon wings
set sail upon the stage
the fire of passion burning
it was all her desire

she was the one
this was the moment

the symphonie
ages past never dying
it was looking on a creature of beauty
so in tune with nature and the energies of the world
she graced the canvas painting upon it
soft embers and purple of her aura

a magical possession
she would dance
she was art

live to which it is
forever you may dream
upon hope and strength of love
Dance Maria Dance

© All rights reserved 1-11-10 Grigous Konstantarou
Greg Constas

 

 

 

 

so long ago
a place lost within the curtain of time
where the gods and goddesses played
our world
hidden by history
where dreams were always broken
where in such a place
so many another
a heart went to die
the brinks washed in crimson misery
a hell beyond reach
never one can climb out

souls suffering so miserably
starving in hunger to die

it is where there should be a festivale
to wash all the drear away
all of those lonely hearts
finally they may embrace it
to fly free of such a rancid prison

to be able to set in the air
upon wings of tomorrow
saddened destinies flying away
burning from the light of hope
tomorrow marks the dawn of a new day
upon a world in a state of dying
let this day see no resistance from religion
let the light shine brightly
destroying the evil eye of hate
let this prayer be read by many and heard of by all

© All rights reserved 1-8-10 Grigous Konstantarou
Greg Constas

 

so slowly may words gently caress you
like leaves on the wind upon your ear
as it was on the december mourning
so very cold in abandon
she was locked away from hope
only in it she had but one

a curiousity she would never know

fore he was a poet
that crafted words around her
it was much like a druids hands
they were molding a spell
the ethereal energy she felt
upon it her neck so gently kissed
into the day words would spin
this night held forever
a silken dance would come alive
for in hours so very far away
she heard a symphonie of purple hues
the violins the sang of love
the cellos moaned in tragedy

how is is for but only one night
in a land full of passion destiny
a want for a dance
precise to the words that carried her away

within only moments after it had begun
the song would die
the angels they did drop
hot tears of miseries from above
washing her skin
staining her heart
for a moment of pleasure
she would die one-thousand sorrows

© All rights reserved (Greg Constas 1-06-10)

 

It was a love laced upon the sufferings of Midnight and her embrace
That the Angel cried so tragically bleeding her misery
A crimson rivulet that would make a sea

The heavy blankets of the eleventh hour hung
A purple of the richest dyes
Staining the night skies so heavily

A time in which they shared a hope
Tomorrow a wish never to come
If for one moment they could have the night

Within her cold touch
They would forever be separated
A darkness in paradise

Treetop canopies heavy in her rule of night
No light no hope

 

lay it so softly
upon pillows of the finest silks of Persia
your head

.

so softly upon the moon the sky dances
her one million eyes
the fairies of Midnight and her embrace

.

it is upon it this night
in a destiny to die
for but one moment
in this chasm of never-ending nights
of always a tomorrow that never arrives

.

a wish upon your eyes
so soft a touch
fall away into dreams

.

see the serenade painted in tree top canopies
it is below the watchful eye of the moon
so silently they sing
the violins they do whisper
it is vocal kisses so gentle upon your ear
the cello moans a song of goodbye
so gentle lips upon your nape
bare neck nude
a kiss

.

wake so slow from everdream

.

thousands of pages rain stained, the ink has all but washed away
it was in the scrolls of those ancient masters these words were found
pages lost to the winds of time
rain stained ink runs away with letters into smears
this page was blown across a sea into new lands of a modern world
scholars and poets alike did sit and discuss the words upon this page
history always comes back around
and if you pay close attention you may find that like so many of your idols or totems
you may become a living history of your craft