Forgiving the act of forgiveness

Giving away the flowers of redemption,
the choices that hollow the meaning of reason,
This is what must be called the end of propriety!

Like a drop in the channel of elegance
spoiling the perfection of fantasies
i am keeping my mind fixed on a galaxy,
miles away from your made up world.

Forget the jollies and pleasures of yesterday
linked to a face you locked up in my mirror,
used and washed up, while crying out years of clarity.

This is who i am, standing alive in front of you,
so pick up the pieces you scattered in solitude,
for that memory was the last gift I have given you
The private view to my childhood.

                                                                   Irene Asimenou

insomnia!

I need my peace of mind.

Somewhere lost through space and time,

it traps my emotions and capability of sleep

into some strong, wooden sells of negligence.

Forced against an empty pillow,

I seem to suffocate the threads of my memory

that intrude my nightmares just as crystal in sand,

during a thunderstorm in the middle of desert!

The seaside and the world around it,

just cover with roses my intolerant lifeline,

as the tears of my exhaustion

wet my mattress of happiness.

This mattress having been the birth of me

will eventually lead me to decay

while the desire for adventure into the wild

is the only comfort under my stars.

                                                  Irene Asimenou