Author: tzelikazoumpouli

I am a consultant psychiatrist and psychotherapist. I am interested in philosophy, politics and poetry. I am a therapist, a poet, a runner, a wife, a friend, a sister, a daughter and a mother. I like thinking spaces and play-mats.
Οι συναρτήσεις, July 2013, The functions

Summer

tzelikazoumpouli

1

She was experiencing the dead cypress of the mind with edges

and her need like a heart whispered,

“fade out time,

roll on my abyss with the silky birds”

The disturbed mental state and time

that passed

without looking the endless flight with the big breast

and the small lust

and an inextinguishable, bottomless pain

which breathed in the smoke

as though

it was blood

I am, I say, I want to say “life”

I was about to shout but no voice

was coming out

Only the inarticulate bilingual orphan

Truth

 

2

Until you think of the translation

The meaning had already found a breezy shadow

To pass the afternoon

Shouting “Solve me” and drinking

Besieged freedom

 

3

How did you change so much? She asked the big storm.

Don’t ask how,

Only ask where.

Οι συναρτήσεις, March 2013, The functions

Τουμόροου (Tomorrow)

tzelikazoumpouli

The navigator was pointing to the north

Speechless poet

only mumbling some Dionysian sounds

Primitive and universal

Bits of the noises i was able to understand

“Aggressiveness does not migrate, it stays where her roots are

Where the first grey hair rises”

The navigator was pointing to the south

Hot mad man

(despite the spring snow)

Reminding us about the time change tomorrow

Not the one predicted; the one that never existed

Something  I had never lived before i was able to long for

In the promise of time that would slip from the fingers

“Migration does not return; it stays where it went

Where the first facial wrinkles rise”

The navigator was pointing to the west

Innocent witnessing child

that others took her accounts for real

Trials and crusades happened at the momentum

Foam from the bottom I was able to clear out

and to become again; like history

Greek-ness does not die and this is her pity

The navigator was pointing to the east

Mumbling English poet

Any bits I was not able to understand

In the drunke-ness I thought I could distinguish “Του μωρού” (of the baby)

and while he was saying something about tomorrow

I said this coincidence of the words is the truth

As is the gap between them

Οι εξισώσεις, October 2012, The equations

The stars of the sea

tzelikazoumpouli

She went towards the edge,

she looked over here, she searched over there,

she saw all the names on the boats

and the waves in people,

she looked up in the sky and these did not lit up

She flew towards the cliff,

she palpated all that she found over here and

and all that she discovered over there,

she touched all the meanings and the thorns

and the steps in the marsh

Only when she was ready to go

she saw their bright reflections

and she realized which ones were her own

real stars

August 2012, Οι εξισώσεις, The equations

Women

tzelikazoumpouli

Masculine soul

in a woman’s body

And aggressive “No”

meaning

Surrendering “Yes”

Strong “I am starting all over again’

hiding

helpless “I am dying”

And all my ropes

still looking for these roots

From generation to generation

Pride was all what these women did

All that

the undervalued  women achieved

With the hoarse voice

and the loose trousers

sweetly torturing the body

With its memories

And the small breast

within its unsatisfying refuge

feeding with no mercy

Whoever homeless

is in need

of

Maternal masculine

Protection