Niko Tiliopoulos


The Morning Is The Wrong Time To Cry - Poem by Niko Tiliopoulos

The morning is the wrong time to cry.

When your soul has drained,
pain is its sludgy ground,
which when mixed with sleep
gives birth to delusions.

In the morning, however, truth is fresh,
and destroys the illusion of reality.

Truth hides in dreams.

In my dreams there is you,
giving colour to their shadow.

Don’t be afraid of me, mute beauty…

I cannot touch you,
I cannot hurt you,
because I don’t exist,
because I never existed…

I am a cloud of desires.
The mist of the enchanted forests.
I am a vision of ideas.

The dreamy song
of the flowers’ silence
that caress your lips.

I am an immaterial seed
that fell from the sky
on your strange world.

Yes, I am a little angel
that slipped from the moon’s smile onto earth
to learn how to love.

I envied, you see, the humans,
for only they can truly fall in love.
So it was written in the contract of their sins.

Teach me how to love.

Open the iris of the soul
that is hidden in your eyes,
as they radiate the colour of the unripe olives
that Demeter used to whisper her secrets to.

Teach me how to love.

The pain of happiness on your face.
Teach me how to cry your tears,
those that pay the price of your beauty in Hades.

Show me how not to become like those
who love has forsaken,
because they betrayed her,
and now they are mocking her,
in the hell of her curse.

Don’t let me dwell
in the irony of my mind
that is torturing
the veils of my sleep.

Teach me how to love.

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Comments about The Morning Is The Wrong Time To Cry by Niko Tiliopoulos

  • Roger Bowman (1/31/2007 1:52:00 AM)

    Amazin poemo my friend.Love it

    All the best and more amigo della fuerto anemio
    Roger
    (Report)Reply

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Roald Dahl

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 8, 2006

Poem Edited: Thursday, October 14, 2010


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