Pandora's box
Antigoni Siomou
Myrto Koukodimou
Pandora's box
Antigoni Siomou
illustrated by Myrto Koukodimouby
to the old man on the moon
Myrto & Antigoni
It is said that
Pandora opened the box
of all evils
but the last one to get out
was
hope.
Beginning of Summer
It all started when the first frog
began croaking
and the rest of them followed
like a huge chorus singing
in perfect tune
It all started when the first kiss
violently smashed our lips
and the rest of them followed
like a well-tuned violin
reaching its full bloom
Please, do not let your lips open
If you do let them
You’ll talk about
the past that was harsh
the future that’s gonna be very, very bright
but not about
the present
Just look at the stars
the ones that stand above us
like pearls that shine
into the sea’s most forbidden debts
And, please, hold my hand
Hold my hand
so that I can hear your breath
more clearly
so that I can feel your warmth
- you are always so warm -
right beside me
Hold my hand
- and don’t look at me -
let me look at the stars
which seem to be eternal
Just tell me how Ursa Major can lead us to the north
- and north is where we should be heading
I love you
The water murmurs
Never stopping
Licking each rock it goes through
Again and Again
Making them gradually
sleek, round, soft
almost tender
I hold your hand
And you hold mine
What is a constellation?
You somehow try to explain – and then you don’t -
But I have already realized what you want to say
When we don’t talk
the stars seem brighter
the water softer
your hand warmer
and your eyes – I cannot see them -
calmer
But I do know
We are both parts
of this constellation
The iris
resembles the universe
The pupil is as vast and dark
as the void
The cicadas’ bustle
reminds me of
- a sensation forlorn
but still vivid -
a smell, a sound
and a thrilling touch
Two hands that desperately clutch
and the twinkling sun rays
caressing your eyes.
This is how you made me touch
the cicadas’ bustle
I always thought
that a woman’s body is full of curves
soft and fluid like tasty jelly
I always thought
that a man’s body is full of angles
hard and stiff
full of edges and thorns
painful when stared
painful when touched
Mid-July
When the moon is too bright
the stars cannot be seen
It terrifies me to know
that they are still there
curved too deep into my heart
When the moon stops shining so bright and so full
a huge void will open for sure
scaring the wits out of me
rendering me completely
helpless
hopeless
empty
Being in love means
that you constantly forget
you forget to
eat
sleep
pee
drink
think
The world seems to be silent
except the wind
that blows fiercely
the sound of the waves
- that clustering sound of the hollow volcanic rocks -
and the church bell that rings
erratically
The world seems to be silent
but the stunning beauty of the barren cliff
is deafening
hard to bear
impossible to ignore
A wise man used to say
that the opposite of love
is not hatred
but fear
My hand is already halfway there
almost touching your cheek
My tears are already halfway there
almost touching my lips
My eyes are already halfway there
almost touching the deep wrinkles of your forehead
My thoughts are already halfway there
almost touching the numbness
this numbness that shutters affection
They say that – I know that -
it is too cruel
for the body to desire
what brings so much
pain
Science has it
that the sound of fingernails
scratching a blackboard
frightfully reminds us
of a human scream
I kind of like quarrels
but those fights that each of us
ends up in their own bed
in their own house
I hate them
When quarreling it’s nice to even look at your back
so that there is this faint possibility
of a distant stroke,
an imaginary
kiss
or
soothingly
making love
It’s easy to survive when it’s summer
it’s warm
and it makes one
forget
what frost really means
This city is too hot
it makes me want to rip my skin off
and melt
just as cold ice-cream melts on your hands
Your body is too warm
too warm for such a hot summer
when my hips wrap around yours
I want to rip my skin off
I want to sweat,
melt
and disappear
This summer is too hot
and irresistibly strong
I feel I cannot satisfy
this never-ending thirst
I only sweat
melt
sweat
melt
sweat
but in the end I cannot disappear
But I do want to vanish
leaving only some kind of sweetness
on your face
on your hips
in your mouth
just like cold ice cream
on a very warm day
A spider
weaves and weaves the web
a tiny trap
offering her
(in)finite freedom
The huge orbit of the sun
slowly caressing the wrinkled surface
of the lake
and the shadows that get deeper
suddenly vanishing
If I want to
I can calculate how many sunsets I have “seen”
me and every other living person
It is our era that is so fond of calculating
dates, moments, visits
everything being replaceable
But I cannot count
how many times we’ve kissed or
how many times we’ve made love
As I cannot really count how many sunsets I have truly
looked at
Impossible to stop
this waterfall
rapid and majestic
flowing in eternity
End of August
In the middle of the night
I can suddenly hear drops on the roof
drops falling violently one after the other
and two cats
groaning and moaning
almost like two human beings making love
The bed seems emptily vast
without you lying beside me
A nightingale
never hesitates to
sing
for the fragrant summer breeze
In between the drowsiness
of the summer siesta
and a cool dream
full of high peaks and thick snow
I wonder
what
What brings us close
Something clearly imperfect
pieces broken by feelings lost
getting glued together
through sympathy and pain
I wish I met you when I was 19
I wish we were both 19
- even if this year has never existed for us -
Time is hard to deal with
Unstoppable and unpredictable
seizing ruthlessly
purity and innocence
wounding even what
we consider
invincible
Time often seems to me like
a soothing sunrise
when you come closer and smile
I feel blood flowing even to my most hidden cavities
and my wounds getting softer
smoother – quite like healed flesh
The scars are white
imperfect on a cinnamon-like skin
perfect as the high mountain peaks
almost covered in snow
On the moon
an old man lives
he weaves and weaves
long red cords
looking at the night kingdom
he joyfully laughs at his tight knots
Autumn
The real question is
if the floating summer
has really vanished
but the dust and the eucalyptus leaves
on the dark car hood
still bring the salty aroma
of the sea water
In the middle of the road
you showed me the shadows
“It’s getting more like fall”
you said
and your eyes caressed the tree trunks and the dense canopy
- they always get darker and longer
under the sweet September sunlight
The road unfolds
almost endless
Driving – I even don’t know – for how many days or months
And in every place we stay
we leave a piece of our soul
without any unnecessary talking
just being
without any unnecessary thoughts
‘cause the mind instantly gets pale when compared to the truth
The road is long
it changes according to the season and the mood
this autumnal aura reminds me of
the unwithered flower you once offered me
an unwrinkled bud
that both of us will keep
gently
on our bosom
The weeping willow
gracefully drenched its long leaves
into
the dark
silent
water
Pandora has opened her box indeed
and cold rain, fierce wind and snow burst out of it
human weakness and their constant fear to
reach what is real
empty compromise
and the flickering impression
that the flame is dark and the darkness bright
Don’t come close to me
don’t touch me
even the faintest,
slightest
moment
of affection
will make me
vomit
What I only want to touch and embrace tenderly
is this
this that you stubbornly ignore
If I keep it maybe you’ll see what
you just buried
with eloquent words, thoughts and calculations
that the long history of the human race and the practical male
perception of the world
have bestowed on us
Surrounded by the city traffic roar
and the twilight that creeps on the high antennas
you obstinately ignored
the leaves that stuck onto our clothes
and the cat’s tufted tail that licked our elbows
you obstinately forgot
that happiness is lurking under the tiniest
ant
below the scarlet autumn leaves
Pandora was neither heedless nor weak
she was wise and strong
desiring to know all the evils in this world
– and the evilest of them all –
....
...hope.
Pandora's Box
Antigoni Siomou;
illustrated by Myrto Koukodimou.