Not a love poem

Writing about love should be easy. It is all about expressing your most positive feelings.

The words should be flowing like the water of a cataract, the satisfaction and happiness streaming like a tidal wave.

It is anything but...

Writing about love is a form of art and as far as I've experienced art requires a great deal of effort.

It demands each word to pushed out of you like the birth of a child. 

Hard, laboured, breathless work.

Performance that leaves you tired and empty.

This is writing about love. 

Unrequited or not, romantic or troubled, happy or difficult

Love expresses itself like the water of a broken dam, sweeping everything in its path and claiming it forever as its own.

KISSES!

E.

The poet inside me feels…

My love is a spring flower caught in a cold winter's day, beautiful but doomed.

It is a burning candle trying to keep the flame alive against a roaring wind.

It is a villain in a Disney movie, destined to certain death in the end.

My love, a feeling drowning in shallow waters, 

standing no chance against the riptide of reality.

 

My heart is a phoenix, always reborn from its ashes.

It is a bright-eyed optimist, forever ready to forgive.

It is my most extraordinary feature,

constantly loosing from my mind but never giving up.

 

And my mind...

My mind is all over the place.

It is trying to figure out how to settle between the things that I need and those that I desperately want.

 

KISSES!

E.

One more second chance

 A couple of months after leaving Santorini, it became apparent to me that I would very much like to return. To work in the hospitality industry is to live a nomadic life and to find a place which you love, which makes you feel like you belong, without having your home there without even meeting the basic criteria which you set for a homebase…. Well, it is rare, it is precious and it cannot be wasted.

 The distance I took from the island, gave me the opportunity to really appreciate it. So I decided to go back. It was all coming along excellent. I was set up for a really good job to the place I chose –not wind up to- when everything changed.

 The pandemic shook the world from its axis and deprived me from the chance of returning. Of seeing the things that I had just looked, of cherishing the things I had taken for granted, of living where I merely used to survive.

 We all know the saying ‘You don’t know what you have until you lose it’. We’ve all experienced it, but did we learn from it? If I’m being honest, no. Rarely do we learn, until it is too late. The question is, do we get a second chance to do it right? That is up to fate, but fate rarely grants us this gift.

The truly good things in life come only once and if we do not appreciate them the moment they’re happening we are doomed to live with the memories. So do it, appreciate them, show it to them, put your ego aside for a moment and deaply, honestly love them. 

 The alternative for me is terifying because I am really not ready to live asking for second chances.

Are you?

KISSES!

E.

All the losses that we've gained

 The human brain is conditioned to accept loss. To compensate for the things that it cannot have or adapt to function without them. Inability to succeed at either leads to insanity. I guess it’s why they’re saying ‘From all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most’.

 With all the recent turmoil I had the time to ponder about all that are gone, and celebrate not only all that I still have but also the new ones that arrived.

 I feel that I don’t need to go into specifics.

 I have not suffered a devastating loss.

 I was not given an extraordinary present.

 In my pensive state and while social distancing, my mind wandered all the way from mourning, to acceptance and eventually eagerness for those yet to happen. Because with the world turned upside down, I need to believe that when life takes something with one hand, gives back with the other.

 If not, then what is the point?

KISSES.

E!

Before, Now, After

 People who suffer from Cystic Fibrosis have to keep a distance from each other. Breaking this rule would endanger their very lives. Patients with C.F. who come in contact with one another run an extremely high risk of infection and subsequent death.

It is very unfortunate, thinking how they are battling with the same disease, they’re facing the same problems and they probably have numerous things in common, but they are forbidden to socialize with the very same people who can fully understand what going through Cystic Fibrosis means.

 It seemed just a trivial fact for me Before. Before the pandemic. Now I can taste a little of their bitter sacrifice. Now that I cannot trace your smile with my fingers, I cannot feel your warm breath whispering in my ear, Now that it is impossible for me to get lost in your hug. Because Now the same rule applies to everyone.

I miss you but I will be patient, I will wait for the After. I will wait with a smile if that means that I will get to see you After with the most precious gift, your health intact.  

KISSES!

E.

A letter to my baby sister's future boyfriend

I loved her before there was even she to love.
I adored the very idea of her and eventually cherished her presence.
I grew up watching her and preparing for your arrival.
You will have to pass my test with flying colors, if you don't want to end up as an unresolved mystery disappearance.
Your name will never be spoken with tears.
Your presence will always have to be a protective one.
Stand tall beside her don't slouch behind her.
I grew up a pianist, I know how to correct a posture, I learn to detect an error in rythm and if I find one between yours I will resolve it, probably with pain.
I will ask you a lot of questions, all of them a trap, an invitation to be cocky.
So be weary in your answers, there will be no second chance.
But above all remember she is your queen and you will have to start mining for diamonds to put in her crown.
She deserves no less...

 This post will be short and sweet, and, I really hope, motivational.

 I was in my first run at my hometown after eight months when I noticed these new additions to the scene. Anchors seem appropriate for a lovely seaside town, but they got me thinking…

Anchors are made to hold something down, to stop its course. Literary and metaphorically. While I was running I was thinking their metaphorical sense, all the people and the circumstances that tried to weigh me down and how one by one I overcame them. Some slowly but steadily, some quickly and without hesitation. Haven’t we all gone through events that tried to anchors us? Yes, but have they succeeded? That is solely up to our power of will. With that in mind I have only one thing to say and you should really pay attention here.

 I will not let ANYONE or anything to stop me from my course, to keep me from swimming, to halt me from even flying. You can try your damndest, I dare you!

KISSES.

E!