I met a pigeon on the street the other day
his eye bruised and swollen
his feathers sparse
the toes of his left foot torn
a stump left
dragging on the pavement
the other pigeons huddled together
further away
as if they didn’t see him
or never had
still, he stood there
silent
calm
“what keeps you going?” I asked
“mostly stubbornness and spite,” he replied
______
city bird by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
δεν ξέρω ποια μοίρα φρόντισε
για να συναντηθούμε
ελπίζω μόνο να ήταν μοίρα κ όχι θεός.
προσπάθησα τόσο για να με ξεχάσουν.
μη φοβάσαι.
θα τα μάθεις όλα,
κ αν μετά ακόμα θέλεις,
μπορείς να κρίνεις.
όλα ξεκίνησαν με το ταξίδι,
την ανακοίνωση ότι θα φεύγαμε.
από κείνη τη νύχτα, και κάθε νύχτα έκτοτε,
φρικτές εικόνες πλημμύρισαν τα όνειρά μου.
προσπαθώντας να τις ερμηνεύσω,
έστειλα τον πιστό μου Εύμαιο
στον ομφαλό του κόσμου,
να ρωτήσει την αρχιέρεια του μαντείου.
μα η απάντησή της ήρθε διφορούμενη
και άχρηστη ως συνήθως.
όμως, μέχρι να την λάβω,
είχα ήδη βγάλει τα συμπεράσματά μου.
τα τέρατα, οι μάγισσες, οι τρικυμίες,
ο θάνατος τόσων φίλων και συντρόφων,
όλα όσα ονειρευόμουν ήταν αλήθεια,
απλά όχι ακόμα.
έβλεπα καταστροφές που θα ακολουθούσαν,
τραγικά και αναπόφευκτα,
μία και μοναδική μου απόφαση:
το να φύγω γι αυτό το ταξίδι.
διάλεξα λοιπόν, κάτι διαφορετικό.
διάλεξα να ζήσω.
δεν το άφησα βέβαια να φανεί αμέσως,
οι προετοιμασίες συνεχίστηκαν κανονικά,
κρατώντας τους θεούς σε άγνοια,
μην προκαλέσω την οργή, ή κάποια παρέμβασή τους.
όμως, αφού ξανοιχτήκαμε στο πέλαγο,
μια νύχτα χωρίς φεγγάρι,
βούτηξα στο νερό κρυφά,
κ εξαφανίστηκα.
πάλευα ώρες με τα κύματα,
μέχρι να πάρουν τα χέρια μου φωτιά,
μέχρι το αλμυρό νερό να μου γεμίσει τα πνευμόνια,
μα τα κατάφερα.
κάπως, ένα πρωί, ξεβράστηκα εδώ, σ αυτή την παραλία.
έμαθα να ζω απλά, με ψάρεμα και κυνήγι,
και τους κατοίκους του νησιού
για νέα μου οικογένεια.
γι αυτό δε σε ρώτησα για τη γυναίκα και το γιο μου,
καλή μου Ευρίκλεια,
άφησα πίσω μου εκείνη τη ζωή,
και δε θα την αναζητήσω πια.
μπορώ να δω στα μάτια σου τη γνώση πως
αν τα πράγματα είχαν πάει αλλιώς,
θα είχα γίνει ήρωας τρανός.
δε θα το μάθουμε ποτέ - ελπίζω - ευτυχώς.
να ξέρεις πως, τουλάχιστον,
έζησα ήρεμος κ ευτυχισμένος.
______
προσωπικός χρησμός by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
σήμερα
κάτω απ το ζεστό, ανοιξιάτικο ήλιο
είδα να σκάνε μύτη
μικρά,
φρέσκα,
καταπράσινα φύλλα
πάνω στη γυμνή απ το χειμώνα
μπουκαμβίλια μου.
τι κ αν συμβαίνει κάθε χρόνο;
το θαύμα
παραμένει θαύμα.
κ είμαι ευγνώμων γι αυτό.
______
ζωή, και πάλι by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
your need
for complex words
is keeping me away.
if I could
I’d simply have you
listen to my belly.
but first,
you’d have to actually want it.
----
η ανάγκη σου
για περίπλοκες λέξεις
με κρατά μακριά.
αν μπορούσα
θα σ έβαζα απλά
ν ακούσεις την κοιλιά μου.
αλλά πρώτα
θα πρεπε όντως να το θέλεις.
______
communication / επικοινωνία by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
every time you touch
someone’s heart
kindly
carefully
with permission
you make a safe space
a very small one
the trick is
all these small safe spaces
connect
you feel it when you meet
a friend of a friend
for the first time
and it’s clear that the
outside
doesn’t feel safe yet
but step by step
and touch by touch
we’ll make it so
______
safe by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
why
are the nights
you come and go
lonelier
than the nights
I spend
alone
?
______
four a.m. by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
crossing the street from opposite sides,
we saw the same car
rushing our way.
I took a step onto its path,
without a second glance.
you looked at it,
then looked at me,
and took a step back.
______
privilege by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
μόνο οι στιγμές που νιώθεις ελεύθερος μετράνε.
τις άλλες
κάνεις υπομονή.
______
πασιέντζα by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
why does the image of myself
depend so much on others?
do I need an ‘impartial’ judge?
do I need a judge?
I clearly do.
you cannot win if there’s no race.
but, why win?
it didn’t make me happy before.
it made me numb.
it’s stress up to the race,
then it’s the race,
which doesn’t feel like much
- adrenaline maybe?
and then it’s this small gap,
between the end of the race
and the beginning of a new one,
where maybe,
sometimes,
I breathe.
I need to breathe more.
______
a rat or a horse by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
αναζητώντας για μέρες
μια στιγμή που δεν έχεις σημαδέψει,
επιτέλους, κατάλαβα.
______
αναγνώριση by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
he was already swimming,
in the early summer sea,
feeling more refreshed with every stroke.
she had just left her clothes at the beach
and was coming to meet him,
no sounds around them but the waves,
the sun setting patiently in the background.
“well, nice!
you sure look better than before,” he said.
“I guess the fitness training you’ve been doing
is starting to pay off.”
“I’m also happier now,” she replied,
and dipped her head in the water,
keeping it in as much as possible,
letting the cool waters wash away
a week’s worth of fatigue.
“well, that doesn’t mean much, does it?
you could be less happy in five minutes,
or even sad,
but you’ll still be as fit as you are now.
fitness is something concrete,
measurable,
happiness is… meh,” he waved his arm in the air,
indicating something cloudy,
insubstantial.
“sure, but, feeling my body healthier,
feeling a stronger connection to it,
really makes me happier!
you can’t measure it,
ok, I get that,
but it’s still true!”
“sure, sure, that’s great.
now, listen,
I’ve made this new measure,
which includes the fastest lap
you can do in the swimming pool,
and your blood oxygen levels
and…”
she had wandered off near some rocks,
and was watching intently
at the tiniest crab she had ever seen.
it was bravely fighting against the waves,
going three steps to the right,
then being pushed 2 steps back again.
the poor crab would make it, eventually,
she was sure of it.
“..., and in this metric I’ve reached twelve now,
but when I started I was only doing about eight,
so that’s a huge improvement,” he kept on,
not missing a beat.
“and you also seem happier now,” she replied,
staring at the seagulls that were circling them from high above,
white touches of light in the purple, darkening sky.
“I’m really glad.”
______
immeasurable by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
sometimes I remember Mr. Light.
he was the kind, silent type,
slightly older than most recruits,
but doing his time patiently like the rest of us.
it was rare to find Mr. Light arguing,
or expressing a strong opinion;
he mostly listened,
and kept to himself.
there was something delicate
and soft
about his silence,
like a pillow, or a teacup:
impossible to cause any harm.
it’s easy to forget a person like that.
someone that neither excited
nor annoyed you.
and I expect I’d have forgotten all about him by now,
if it wasn’t for a single discussion we had,
a week before he got his leave from the army.
he said there were two things he was looking forward to,
once he got out.
the first was the marathon.
it was his dream to be able to run the full marathon,
and he was training the whole year for it.
I’m sure he did great.
the second was going back to the village where he grew up.
there was his childhood home there,
waiting for him,
if he wanted it.
but there was also a friend.
a friend he hadn’t spoken to for quite some time.
a friend that,
at some point,
had been much more than that.
and Mr. Light hoped,
and hoped,
and hoped so hard and for so long,
that it was starting to leak through him.
you could see his hands tremble
and his eyes water as he talked about it,
you could almost smell the excitement and fear,
almost hear his heart pound faster.
he hoped so much he couldn’t stand hoping any more,
that his friend might be there,
like his childhood home,
waiting.
it’s hard to guess if he deserved it,
but even so,
I hope he got a chance
to make things right.
______
going home by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License