Joseph S. Josephides Poems

Τhe State kept its eyes closed
when they sold you at your thirteen, a body,
when the wretched slave-trader raped you
behind closed doors, melting your petals,
...

Instead of Aristophanes, she calls me sweetly Fanes,
she enters the outpost, gets out only when she wants,
wakes me up from sleep, prepares a divine supper,
puts on everything, great things, even milk of a bird:
...

My light, your ears of wheat are gilding,
your plain grows tufty, it’s a real painting,
knead and give me fragrant fresh bread,
so I stand and melt sorrows and nails.
...

Everyone boasts. I, the frigate Vasa, stopped doing so.
The King of Sweden had ordered a Dutch to build me
but he stole from the Danes a design to materialize me,
then they loaded me with guns, dolls like scarecrows,
...

Comrades, whom I have lost, returned from storms
urged me to go with them to the end, beyond Ithaca.
...

It’s very hard to judge Timoklea, Alexander, she
buried in a well the Macedon who raped her. She
tells you 'At Chaeronea you have killed Theogenis,
my brother; killing me you glorify violence twice.'
...

Aeneas is walking onto scorching stones,
he carries on his back his paralytic father
holds the hand of little child who bitterly cries:
“My dad is alive. I feel his hand, is still warm! '
...

I'll tell you explicitly how the miracle happened...

the girl met the poet online in the internet,
he kept her awoke with jokes and colors
...

If you sit on my throne and rule, believe it or not,
you’ll see in the Yard corrupt guys, harlots, magicians,
a river of blood for sacrifices, wars, arenas; you’ll see
usurers to flay you - and after you the poor people-
...

The fingers of Chopin and strings of Paganini
you smash, so that they can’t redeem their home.

But I'll mend you, though I know you’ll hate me,
...