Niko Tiliopoulos


Niko Tiliopoulos
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Niko was born Nikolaos Savvas Tiliopoulos on Tuesday 15 July 1969 at 6: 00 a.m., in the harbour city of Volos, on the central east coast of Greece. Coincidentally, his birthplace was also that of the Centaurs, Achilles, Jason, and Aeolus, the hanging out place of Aristotle, and the starting point of the Argonaut expedition. Niko, unfortunately or luckily perhaps, bears no resemblance to any of these ancient or mythical entities or events.

Niko started writing poetry since he could hold a pen, although his first attempts were, naturally, incomprehensible, as it would still be some time before he could write in proper words. Anyway, time went by, and Niko kept on writing poems and ... more »

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Comments about Niko Tiliopoulos

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  • Rookie - 0 Points Roger Bowman (11/18/2006 6:50:00 AM)

    hey amigo della fuerto anemio hope everything goes perfecto

  • Rookie Maria Giatsi (10/11/2006 11:08:00 AM)

    I met the poet in September 2002 in Edinburgh and I have had the opportunity (and good luck!) to get to know him a bit better over the years.
    I have to say that his poems reflect -in many ways- the way he speaks! Funny and witty on the one side, melancholic or even dramatic on the other side (well, he is Greek after all!)
    Just wonderful! ! !

  • Rookie Nicole Miller (10/9/2006 3:53:00 PM)

    Man, you're carazy as hell! I really love your poems. Some make me wonder w.t.f., should I laugh or scratch my head, puzzled at whether there is supposed to be a deeper meaning, etc. I think maybe U just goofy. I like.

Read all 3 comments »
Best Poem of Niko Tiliopoulos

Don’t Go To Bali

Don’t go to Bali my friend.

Even if the whales whistle you the way,
even if the dolphins dance for you to stay,
even if the spirits possess you when you pray.

Even if the sun is king or the winds are fair,
or even if the sea currents take you there,
and even if you are charmed
by the gamelan music in the air.

Or the dancers of barong
and the outfits of sarong,
or the feasts of spice
and the paddies of rice,
or the volcanoes of light
and the temples of white.

Come what may in the end,
don’t go to Bali my friend.

Read the full of Don’t Go To Bali

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