The Pine Tree

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“Like a windstorm
Punishing the pine trees,
Love shakes my heart.”
With apologies to Sappho

Laden with snow dumps, undisciplined branches,
entangled with sparking electricity wires, overhang the balcony,
camouflage the distant seascape,
plead to be pruned.
Earthquake cracked exterior, overwhelmed by its alpine girth,
thirsts for a coat of paint.
Underfoot, scattered brown cones slip and slide in a bed of needled slush-
wait to extinguish loneliness in the charred fireplace.
In his dream Pithea prophesized disaster, like Sappho’s pine, in a windstorm
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Salon

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For Elly
Iakovidou Street
Athens

Morning cacophony escorts friends through diesel fumes,
on trolleys in overload, over sleazy footpaths ready to implode ,
under bitter orange trees
to her door where coffees brews
Tortes and pastries await
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Until Next Time!

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UNTIL NEXT TIME!Please Login or Register to see the link.

-All things vanish.  For each a time is due.
-All things remain.  I go.  Now it’s left to you.
Odysseus Elytis 1998Please Login or Register to see the link.

Dawn mist rouses him,
flings open iced shutters
embraces chilled air.
He drives to town
past cemetery gate.

Waking streets,
enticed by aromas of baking bread,
pungent coffee bean roasters,
repelled by fish stalls drowned in flies
slaughtered goats hooked on high,
pause to read death notices.

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Anecdotes after reading Ritsos

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Loula S. Rodopoulos

They sit at the table on the balcony, stripping virgin vine stems of leaves, buds and stringy bits.  Their voices, with the rustling of the sprouting pine needles, echo in the breeze across the platiea – until the final stem is stripped. Then the aromas of the boiling saucepan – aniseed, garlic, spring onion, olive oil dressing – that blends with the breeze.

She walks down the slope.  A rugged vista of vineyards, wild grasses, yellow sparti, pine and conifer trees engulf her – lift her to the horizon where she floats over mountain peaks and sea until she finds herself perched on the cemetery rock where she penned her first poem.

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Saltwater in the Ink: Voices from the Australian Seas

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Prof. Loula S. Rodopoulos

Book review: Lucy Sussex, Saltwater in the Ink:
Voices from the Australian Seas
(Australian
Scholarly Publishing, 2010)

Please Login or Register to see the link.Lucy Sussex gives public voice to the private thoughts, experiences and observations of selected nineteenth-century seafarers to the Australian colony. These seafarers kept a record of their voyage either as letters to loved ones left behind in England or in journal entries. The white glossy cover of Saltwater in the Ink, composed of a chair covered in red patterned fabric, a red quill, a laced decorated fan, pewter cup and barrel, is aesthetically appealing and invites exploration. Each selection is uniquely titled to suggest a link with such artefacts, with an introduction and afterword that provide a context to the seafarer’s account. For example the Ritchie sisters are presented under the title ‘A Battered Pewter Cup’ and Mary Isabella Cameron under the title of ‘A Girl’s Golden Bracelet’.

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Let Them Burn!

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What we expect from poets is that they should avenge evil [1]

Prof. Loula S. Rodopoulos

Let them burn! Let them burn!
Let them pay! Let them pay!

Grey suited   stooped man  carries red rose

Stadiou Street Wednesday 5 th May
ordered to work, union syndicates claim
Marfin Egnatia Bank a burnt out shell
molotov cocktails thrown

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