T.D.Typaldos
THE UNSYLLABICATED WORDS
The cherry‘s smile
With volcanic rock’s teeth
The myrrh that anoints the wound
The “non-being” negotiates its existence
Our day teaches life
Time teaches the unconcealed regression
Over the blades of gentleness
Our immaculate announciation laughs
A being‘s product sum
Into its substance
A three-dimension
New-truism
Flames that light up onto the tongue of sepsis
Phoenix’s who jumped out before the sleep-loot
The allegory
Of the notable theoreticals
The stars that grow into the house’s underground
They have multiple uses
They serve as lenses
You ignite the fireplace with them
Illuminating the bedroom before you go to sleep
You slay the loft‘s darkness
Combust the Easter candle
You make them as a lamp post
And if you are getting bored
You ride their backs
And your trip begins
Into the newborn
Unsyllabicated
Of your Alter Ego
Non-readable
Words
A WOMAN‘S SCARLET COLOR
A woman‘s scarlet color
Who lives into the sun‘s balloon
The sun‘s balloon filled of helium
Blowing over the walking bridges
Blowing over the iced days
Blowing into the D. Gounari and Apathy‘s corner
And the woman takes the man who lives into an iconography‘s heart
From his hand
They lie down onto a celery’s top
Then a martin is blooms
Into the right nostril of some crazy verse
And the left nostril of a sluggish portrait
Our sons will conquer the promise land
Our daughters will embroider over their veils
Eden‘s garden
THE ONE HUNDRED YEARS WAR
I open my eyes with effort
I am in the same position as I was before
But one hundred years must have passed
Cause the cloud I have stuck into my sky’s corner
It’s not stuck anymore and a tree with black leaves
Is now in its position
The window is locked away
While the girl is now a woman who is escaping from
her mouth
And she makes my mouth her refuge and she‘s hiding into
my words
Her body my attractions and their grievance
