Before going to bed

Lights are dancing on the walls at night,

flickering shadows talk to me.

The silence is too big to handle,

it suffocates us all in.

And the writing of it,

brings the sleepless tension back.


Can the past hear my whispers?

Can it read my lines?


Dropping love in the dark

I shiver.

I wouldn’t trade this silence for the world.


The morning’s light breeze

wards off the endless thoughts.

Keeping my mind busy

is all I can think of.

Photo: Minolta Dynax 7000i (AF 35-105mm). Fujifilm Provia 100F, 35mm film. Dwingelderveld National Park, the Netherlands, September 2020.

For the Women who came before us

My body breaks,

it shatters into millions of pieces.

I carry the voices,

the screams,

the whispers,

the beggings,

of all the women who came before me.

I, too, feel their pain,

deep in my skin,

it goes through the flesh,

and reaches my bones.

Cold, it crushes me.


The pain lingers,

in the dark rooms of our bodies

it fades,

it withers and then stops,

leaving only remnants of suffering.

In its place

anything ugly

is transformed

to strength

and courage.

It breathes survival.


And the flowers in our heads


out of coal and ash,

our saliva becomes sugar between our tongue,

washing over the bitterness in our mouths

and we swallow

all the false masculinity,

or whatever is left from it.


We are one.

Our bodies connect

through hundreds of years of abuse.

The pain in our bodies,

now a tree

with deep strong roots,

is capable to defeat anything.


Our mouths make sounds

as last!

they move,

they vibrate,

they tell the stories of pain.


Our voices create waves and waves and waves

of endless vibrations,

weaving webs of strong fibers,

ready to catch a sister who might fall.

Our voices are the voices of truth and pain,

and all that’s in between.

Our voices are strong,

they finally echo.

[I cry with them too]


Photo: Nikon F75 (35-70mm). Kodak Ultra Max 400, 35mm film. Warns, Friesland, the Netherlands, July 2020.

Με τη γευση χαμομηλιου

Με τη γεύση χαμομηλιού στο στόμα


τον εαυτό και τον κόσμο


Στη βουή του μεγαλείου

αποζητώ το τίποτα

και το γιορτάζω

με χρυσάνθεμα και φως.

Πλέον τίποτα δεν χωράει σε κούτες.

Όλα (εκεί) ελεύθερα υπάρχουν,

ανήκουν σε όλους,

με τον ήχο του ήλιου


Χωρίς αποσκευές


Αυτά που γεμίζουν τις τσέπες

ελαφραίνουν την ψυχή.

12. 2. 2017

Photo: Nikon F75 (28-100mm). Lomography Color Negative 800, 35mm film. Terschelling island, Friesland, the Netherlands. October 2019.

⛰️The mountain meditation⛰️

I am a mountain,

tall and silent

I stand,

while seasons change

and the weather rages.


I am a mountain

steady with trees,

rocks at my core,

and water flowing at my feet.


I withstand change

and I celebrate it

when it takes over

everything around me.

But it does not affect me

– it can’t.


I am a mountain,

solid and tall,

that sits proud

for thousands of years

and will continue

standing and rooting

for more years to come.

Photo: ‘View from a mountain’. Nikon N4004s (35-70mm). Kodak Gold 200, 35mm film. Thessaloniki, March 2016. Credits to Nikos Grivas. 

♣ Το Φθινοπωρινο ♣

Τον Οκτώβριο,
τα κλαδιά στα κόκκινα
λάμπουν στον ήλιο.


Τον Νοέμβριο,
τα κλαδιά στα κίτρινα
πέφτουν στο χώμα.


Το φθινόπωρο,
το αναποφάσιστο
που μας ηρεμεί.


Καμιά γιορτή
αμέτρητα τα φύλλα
κανένα γέλιο.


Κίτρινο χώμα,
πού πήγαν οι αγκαλιές;
Δύει ο ήλιος.

Photo: Praktica MTL 5 (1.8/50). Kodak Gold 200, 35mm film. Groningen, the Netherlands. April 2020.

♠ Ode to the Now ♠

When our lives were happening,

we couldn’t stand still.

Now that our lives just are,

we cannot move forward.


Embracing Silence is all we can do,

embracing Stillness is all we can do,

embracing ourselves is all we can do,

embracing our weaknesses is all we can do,


for us,

our families,

the world,

now is the time to look inward

then gaze outward and

just BE.

Photo: Praktica MTL 5 (1.8/50). Kodak Gold 200, 35mm film. Groningen, the Netherlands. April 2020.


Layers upon layers of restlessness,

upon layers of unburnt stars,

of overheated supernovas

and overflowing dark matter.



is my only refuge now.


I can’t look myself in the mirror anymore,

no reflection is looking back.

Eyes are dried out – forgotten –

almost like dying stars

we only see in our dreams.


The rooftop has fallen

on us

and our dreams,

it has ‘2020’ carved on it

and its debris attacks the silence

while we laugh at our own jokes.


If only I had time to read more.

If only I had time to watch more movies.

If only I had time to catch up on my to-do lists.

Now there is time,

but no soul to put into it.


The sky is dark,

like the inside of my room.

Words escape my mouth

but bounce back at the walls around me

and enter my mouth again.


No sounds,

No world.


My jaw is broken now,

the lines are blurred,

and stars flicker above me

in the night sky.

They remind me that life

is like Silence:

You fee it the most

when it is the only thing you hear.

Photo: Nikon F75 (28-100mm). LomoChrome Purple, 100-400, 35mm film. Groningen, the Netherlands. May 2020.

Our Summer

Dead bugs around me

dead end

no land can caress my sorrow,

no land has room for my depth

and the crows’ screams.


At night we see others swimming

steadily and slowly

into dark blue waters

while crickets sing



Soft waves touch our skin.

A light sound that reaches our dreams

reflects on the water’s surface.

No memory

or sense

stay undisturbed.


This is our summer.

Photo: Minolta Dynax 7000i (AF 35-105mm). LomoChrome Purple, 100-400, 35mm film. Agios Ioannis, Pelion, Greece. August 2019.

Τον καιρο της καραντινας

Τ’ αστέρια κρύβονται,
             οι ίσκιοι εξαφανίζονται.
Πού γυρνάς τα βράδια,
             τώρα που ζέστανε ο καιρός;
Ο κόσμος φαίνεται σιωπηλός
             σχεδόν ήρεμος.
Ο αέρας όμως γεμάτος
             ανησυχία εδώ, εκεί, παντού.

Ψίθυροι εξαντλημένοι,
             αναζητούν το φως,
             αυτό που χάσαμε,
             που θρέφαμε κρυφά,
             τα βράδια αυτού του Ιουνίου.

Θέλεις να πάμε βόλτα;
Να δούμε λίγο κόσμο
      – ν α ξ ε σ κ ά σ ο υ μ ε –
Άσε μωρέ,
             τους βλέπουμε κι απ’ το παράθυρο.
Εκτός αυτού, σφίγγεται η καρδιά μου όταν το ενάμιση μέτρο γίνεται ένα,
             μετά μικραίνει
             και συρρικνώνεται
               στα 50 εκατοστά,
               40 εκατοστά,
               30 φτου και δεν βγαίνω
               ποτέ ξανά απ’ το σπίτι μου.

Οι φίλοι μου έχουν ξεχάσει το πρόσωπό μου,
εγώ έχω ξεχάσει τ’ όνομά μου
και αργά τρώω τα σωθικά μου
ανασαίνω αέναη ανησυχία
        – σωπαίνει η ψυχή –

Εισπνοή – Εκπνοή.
Μέρες έχω ν’ ακούσω τη φωνή μου
να βοά στην ησυχία,
και τρομάζω.
             Μήπως έφυγε;
Καμία απάντηση.

Τελείωσε ή ακόμη;
Δεν ακούω τίποτα.
             Έρχεται καταιγίδα.

Photo: Nikon F75 (28-100mm). LomoChrome Purple, 100-400, 35mm film. Groningen, the Netherlands. May 2020.

Οταν αλλαζει ο καιρος

Όταν αλλάζει ο καιρός

οι πληγές μικραίνουν,

σχεδόν εξαφανίζονται.


Τις μικρές ώρες της νύχτας


λες και ο χρόνος δεν τις επιτρέπει

να γιάνουν.


Η θύμησή τους, τώρα ζωγραφισμένη

με ασπρόμαυρο μελάνι,

σε μπεζ φόντο,

πονά σε ανύποπτες στιγμές,

ακόμη και όταν

ο ήλιος καίει το δέρμα,

ακόμη και όταν η βροχή

λούζει το σώμα.


Ίσως στο μέλλον

να μην τις νιώθω πια,


που θα έχω νικήσει τον θάνατο.

Photo: Nikon F75 (28-100mm). Color Negative, 35 mm, ISO 800. Stadspark Groningen, the Netherlands. March 2020.