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Katerina Gogou-Κατερίνα Γώγου

Time will come when things will change remember this, Maria do you remember that game during the intermission when we run holding the baton —don’t look at me — don’t cry. You are the hope listen, time will come when children will select their parents they won’t be born at random Read more Diasporic Literature »

The Mushroom

The mushroom is swelling in a fair distance … above. We are watching speechless. The agony overpowered any other feeling. It is happening… No place to hide… nor to escape to! Read more Diasporic Literature »

The Spider

‘Mum! Look! A spider! Kill it!’ Belly still working on my web, I goggle down at the small boy’s pink finger pointing at me like a huge, wriggling worm. Oh, no, I think. I’ ve been spinning this web in a corner of the kitchen ceiling for ages and this little bugger here wants to wipe it out in a flash and, worse, do me in. Why do humans loathe us so much? We never do any harm. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Hours of the Stars

Now the secret hour of our voice empties the skies and the morning bread into our hands now we forget the crosses and the serene courtyard and the decree of the Delphic Cybil Read more Diasporic Literature »

Suddenly Ecstasis

Don’t believe a word! I’ve certainly heard this many times before! You see… time has not matured for the Erinyes to start. The night still soothes the wave of anger… You see… the losses are still unknown, and also the men who get up at dawn to go to work, have not enough time to look over their neighbours sorrows… And the others –who underarm their brief cases paper full- have not had their coffee as yet… -having crossed their feet upon the surface, of a -mirror like- polished desk. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Pessimism?

I Know it, deeply within my heart you were born in the spirit of the One, Semele’s son the mischievous God, who was followed by the maenads, embraced in mysticism. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Diasporic Identities - Dionysia Mousoura-Tsoukala

The current bibliography on Greek literature makes little or no reference to identity, with the exception of a few works such as the literary contribution of Professor Kanarakis, titled “Όψεις της Λογοτεχνίας των Ελλήνων της Αυστραλίας και Νέας Ζηλανδίας [Aspects of the Literature of Greeks in Australia and New Zealand]”(Kanarakis 2003). Although the Greek literature in Australia written in the first half of the twentieth century was predominately that of male writers, the female voice emerged dynamically in the second half of the century, making the female voice very distinct (Georgoudakis 2002; Nickas 1992). Thus, the Greek female writers in Australia appeared in the post-war era, during the Greek mass migration, with Vasso Kalamaras being the first, followed by Dina Amanatides and many more. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Second Advent of Zeus - Δεύτερη παρουσία του Δία

The merciful Hestia built my dwelling echo of a gallop sang in faraway lands sound of a comma I heard the exclamation of a woman’s nipple an exhausted tree stopped its rustle and I existed in vague limbo Read more Diasporic Literature »

Loss/Απώλεια

manolisThe years I risked under the spell of the moon for that lone kiss March daffodils autumn chrysanthemums why have you bloomed? Read more Diasporic Literature »

Diachronic Contribution of Greek to other Languages

The Diachronic Contribution of Greek to Other Languages is the new volume compiled and edited by Dr George Kanarakis and published a few months ago in Athens by Papazissis Publications. Dr Kanarakis, Professor of the School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Charles Sturt University, is a well-known linguist and hellenist. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Echo

She opened her window. Powerful feminine exhilarating gesture that shook me memory rekindled paradisiacal kisses and I dreamed of capturing the echo of a raindrop Read more Diasporic Literature »

Greek who arrived in a boat...

The Greek who arrived in a boat wished he had arrived in a plane or with a little bit of cash at least; he had no choice but to arrive in a boat he had to take a month off his life over the waves. Read more Diasporic Literature »

The House

He pushes the heavy iron gate open by the bars, flakes of peeling paint chafing his cold palms. The soles of his shoes scrunch against the grainy soil the pouring rain had carried this afternoon from the garden down the marble stairs, landing in small, grungy pools on the dirt road. He can feel the wet weather in his bones as he climbs up the steep, narrow steps, the night air heavy and cool on his cheeks. Read more Diasporic Literature »

The Cat

I have always loved pets, particularly cats. I have, really. It is true that when my dear husband died I set my mind on buying a feline to keep me company. A quiet, good-mannered Persian one I had spotted in the shop window of the big pet shop downtown. Until I heard from the shop assistant there that it would need to be groomed daily. That put me off buying it. Too much trouble, I thought and figured I could do without a companion for a while. Read more Diasporic Literature »

How Long Still?

Eleni Alexiou My love the loom has been worn away. Widows suitors the child gathered yesterday and wandered “how long still?” I replied: “I count the years no more. The fingers have finished. After ten I do not know, I will get lost. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Dirty old man

Just days are left wrinkles a barren beset haze a single thought, his only worry to sit quietly and not to get in anyone's hurried uttered phrase restrained in silence to stay. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Limping Man

Breeze laughed amid his limping footsteps nature’s unforgiving mistake struggled out of the sea eyes full of kindness irises of a saint a brave man’s graceful stature in his unbalanced steps the balance of the Universe searched for justice pain of the different in vain danced in the expression of the man who limped out of the light waves Read more Diasporic Literature »

The Spring in my Window

Amongst this emptiness setting a gloom amid rose thorns and leaves now fallen a pink and white flower in a bloom has filled the air with buoyant pollen. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Foretaste

A little further from the light cast by the lamp there begins another world, an unknown world - who has ever gone there? who has every returned from there? - and then there are nights - ah! how many adventures there are dreams, so many that you life becomes insignificant (and hence dangerous) - Read more Diasporic Literature »

Four Haiku

Snow snowflakes lingering on a strand where pebbles chime the wind smothers me Water water gushes clear in mid summer parched brooks heart-shaped leaves wasted Read more Diasporic Literature »

Το Πουλί με τις Αλήθειες/The Bird that spoke the Truth

ΤΟ ΠΟΥΛΙ ΜΕ ΤΙΣ ΑΛΗΘΕΙΕΣ Η λήθη σκέπασε το παρελθόν, το άγνωστο πολιορκεί το σπίτι φαντάσματα πραγμάτων που αγαπήσαμε και χάθηκαν και τώρα μόνον οι αράχμες γνωρίζουν τη συνέχεια — αλλά η νοσταλγία για το άγνωστο μας είχε κερδίσει από παιδιά κι η μοναξιά μας είχε υποσχεθεί τις μακρινές αποστάσεις. Ώ το παιδί που υπήρ- ξαμε μ’ εκείνο τον τεράστιο λαιμοδέτη Read more Diasporic Literature »

Dimitris LIantinis' "HOUR OF THE STARS"

Ὁδηγητής τῶν ἑφτά βοδιῶν πού λειβαδεύουν στό βιλαέτι τῆς ἔγνοιας σου ἀθροίζεις τόν ἕωλο αἰῶνα. Ἔχτισες τά σύνορα τοῦ ἀγῶνα σου μέ τέσσερες σταγόνες παγωμένου ἱδρῶτα σέ σχῆμα λάβαρου σταυροφόρων. Ὦ Ἀλκάλουροψ, πλοηγέ τοῦ γέλιου τῶν παιδιῶν καί ἀλφαβητάρι τῶν γερόντων. Read more Diasporic Literature »

She Wouldn’t Budge

Strategoula’s square jaw tightened as I pulled her messy, straw-blonde hair hard at the back, like plucking a dead chicken off its feathers. Her head bounced back and forth as if joined with her shoulders by bed springs. She reiterated by kicking me hard in the stomach and then I felt her pincers-firm grip on my left wrist. Read more Diasporic Literature »

Your Toothless Mouth

Konstantina Sozou-Kyrkou You know what struck me the most when I saw you lying flat on the hospital bed? I realized I’d never seen you without your impeccable false teeth. You looked older, defenseless, robbed from authority. A catatonic man with cheeks sunken along the gums that framed a wide dark cave of a mouth, a forehead jutting out of the white pillow, wet wisps of hair drowning underneath. Read more Diasporic Literature »

The Gordian Knot

Athenas street looks abandoned, still, like a dusty street before a duel in a western. Shop windows dim, like the dirty spectacles of a myopic child; cardboard boxes scattered over shabby floors, like presents that have been left unwrapped; dust blanketing the window displays, like stale icing on a cake. On the pavements, in flaky flower stands, yucca leaves cower over brittle trunks, like rusty, weary swords. The economic depression has gravely affected retail sales all over Greece. Chopped salaries mean less money to spend on consumer goods. How do all these redundant people earn a living now, I wonder. Something has to be done soon or lots of people will starve. Read more Diasporic Literature »

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One Comment so far:

  1. Wonderful web site.
    Compliment!
    All the best
    Kind regards

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