Narrow and wide streets with masses roaming on them. Millions of people like ants in a great terraria. Only the unbreakable laws of nature being the glass, the borders for us. Heralds, doctors, legists and men of faith. Churches with gravity defying towers, mosques and their countless minarets. All decorated with stone, gold and ornaments.
You make your way through the sea of citizens. The Grand Bazhaar is bursting with items of trade. As its name implies, it's the greatest marketplace in the city, but not the only one. Here in its many lanes and booths, the money and the goods change their owners. Scent of spices overwhelm your nostrils and you find something new. Rich coloured cloths are embroided in every shade you can imagine. Sometimes the loud chatter stops and people step aside, showing respect for their superior. Guardsmen are on their hourly patrol, clad in emerald and orange.
The Sun is soon setting and you decide to leave. The thought of being in shady alleys during the prime time of criminality doesn't inspire you. As you stroll down the street and admire the architecture you cannot but keep pondering the city's beauty. As you arrive at the harbor, you take a ferry across the waterway, to the other side of the town. You pay for the ride and give some extra gold for the driver. You pick up your things and head for a drink. The local beverage isn't the best one you have had, but it's not the worst - having heard that decades ago, during the war, people had to mix water with the alcohol as the wine was scarce.
You sip up your drink, pay and leave for the last place to visit tonight. Although the streets being narrow in this district of the town, you find it easier to navigate with less people walking around. After few moments you find what you were looking for: the tallest tower in the city. Your legs ache as you take a step after another, thinking that the stairs will never end.
But your struggle was worthwhile: Standing on the balcony, you see the Haliç - or Khrysókeras, as the last owners of the city did call it - gleaming with the Sun. On the horizon, you see the seven hills all in green. The Sun casts its last rays on the domes of the red coloured mosque and its domes shine with gold. Not far from it, there's a smaller version of it and the Imperial Palace.
What a magnificent place to rule, to live in, to breathe in.
This, and much much more is the Queen of Cities.
The Crossroads of the World.
torstai 16. heinäkuuta 2015
keskiviikko 24. kesäkuuta 2015
Play
[Act I]
Can you see all that I am
How I protect by hiding things
As I conceal what is true and build a labyrinth of poetry
Romanticism and melancholy being the bricks and wood
Sadness and joy blooming from the garden of thoughts
Gates mold from letters after another, barriers for the cold realism
[Act II]
Colors of twilight flickering on the wall
Evergreen grass moist by dew
Setting Sun painting everything with purple and red
Making the waters glare with gold
Giving the surrounding world a chance to be beautiful
Even for a moment before it's gone
(Nightbird raises its head, croaking for the crown of sky)
After the Sun's descent
The Moon ascends above us
Resting on its throne as a nocturnal queen
Hearing the cries of woeful hearts, how their troubles are untold
Witnessing how secrecies unfold
During the night's silent hours
The wind blows through leaves of trees
Gaia singing the lullabies for those who are unrest
And in her solitude she weeps
As a mother for a child that bleeds
[Act III]
(Dawn chorus can be heard, dreamtime is now dispelled)
Morning is greeted by Moon's temporary downfall
Enemies, nay... friends sign their treaty of nychthemerona
The Sun casts its rays upon the waking world
And so dawns the new day
With the magic of nighttime fading away
(We disappear back into present)
Can you see all that I am
How I protect by hiding things
As I conceal what is true and build a labyrinth of poetry
Romanticism and melancholy being the bricks and wood
Sadness and joy blooming from the garden of thoughts
Gates mold from letters after another, barriers for the cold realism
[Act II]
Colors of twilight flickering on the wall
Evergreen grass moist by dew
Setting Sun painting everything with purple and red
Making the waters glare with gold
Giving the surrounding world a chance to be beautiful
Even for a moment before it's gone
(Nightbird raises its head, croaking for the crown of sky)
After the Sun's descent
The Moon ascends above us
Resting on its throne as a nocturnal queen
Hearing the cries of woeful hearts, how their troubles are untold
Witnessing how secrecies unfold
During the night's silent hours
The wind blows through leaves of trees
Gaia singing the lullabies for those who are unrest
And in her solitude she weeps
As a mother for a child that bleeds
[Act III]
(Dawn chorus can be heard, dreamtime is now dispelled)
Morning is greeted by Moon's temporary downfall
Enemies, nay... friends sign their treaty of nychthemerona
The Sun casts its rays upon the waking world
And so dawns the new day
With the magic of nighttime fading away
(We disappear back into present)
perjantai 19. kesäkuuta 2015
Road.
torstai 18. kesäkuuta 2015
The War
I've never been off to a war before
It's my first tour and I'm already missing the home
We are told to shoot a man of different view
Tearing apart what is already askew
Strangest thing to see
Is a barbed wire separating us from the no-man's-land
It's unwise to stand with head up they tell
But why is it so easy to climb over the highway bridge's rail and face the hell
Icaros had wings and desired to be free
Yet the friend of mine couldn't see
The man on the mirror, who he wanted to be
Said he needed to feel like flying
Lot didn't suspect he'd found solace by dying
Today I heard old Tim's going to have a poor burial
As for outsiders our war seemed so trivial
Wonder when we're going to hear the next call
Who gets the honor of being first to climb over the wall
It's my first tour and I'm already missing the home
We are told to shoot a man of different view
Tearing apart what is already askew
Strangest thing to see
Is a barbed wire separating us from the no-man's-land
It's unwise to stand with head up they tell
But why is it so easy to climb over the highway bridge's rail and face the hell
Icaros had wings and desired to be free
Yet the friend of mine couldn't see
The man on the mirror, who he wanted to be
Said he needed to feel like flying
Lot didn't suspect he'd found solace by dying
Today I heard old Tim's going to have a poor burial
As for outsiders our war seemed so trivial
Wonder when we're going to hear the next call
Who gets the honor of being first to climb over the wall
torstai 28. toukokuuta 2015
Nightfall
Sun sets beyond the horizon
Painting the sky with shades of purple and gold
It flickers on the water and clouds
Bowing for all, before the shadows fall
(The pearl now rests on the velvet)
And the serene tune of nightbirds
Echoes for lonesome hearts
For the sleepless children,
Turning in their cribs
For the brethren of Moon and stars
Across the sea of indigo
Over the myriad of isles
From tarmac and city kills
From desert sands to rolling green hills
We bathe in the last rays of light
Firstborns of night, we breath its air
And thus we're free from care
Painting the sky with shades of purple and gold
It flickers on the water and clouds
Bowing for all, before the shadows fall
(The pearl now rests on the velvet)
And the serene tune of nightbirds
Echoes for lonesome hearts
For the sleepless children,
Turning in their cribs
For the brethren of Moon and stars
Across the sea of indigo
Over the myriad of isles
From tarmac and city kills
From desert sands to rolling green hills
We bathe in the last rays of light
Firstborns of night, we breath its air
And thus we're free from care
tiistai 12. toukokuuta 2015
The Song Of Your Own
This is a song, a composed musical piece.
But can you hear it?
Can you see it on the paper?
How has ink told its tale - how has a pen been a tool for an art?
There's no same melody for your song and mine, nor we share the same lyrics.
I cannot hear your story in its grandeur and you cannot hear mine.
You see, its notes are the cries of your heart and its lyrics are your deepest wishes, all echoing in you.
You are the songwriter, the poet and the song itself.
The masterpiece.
sunnuntai 19. huhtikuuta 2015
The House Of A Soulless man
Soulless man has sold his house
Built some years ago to host a heart
Not mine, nor yours alone
But ours, entwined - combined
It wasn't much
Not a mansion of any kind
I just wished
It could be enough
And sometimes
It's easier to leave the world behind
Walk away, to far unknown
To leave the past behind
Next time we see again
We greet with a nod
Two strangers along the road
We are
And sometimes
It's easier to leave the world behind
Walk away, to far unknown
To leave the past behind
Built some years ago to host a heart
Not mine, nor yours alone
But ours, entwined - combined
It wasn't much
Not a mansion of any kind
I just wished
It could be enough
And sometimes
It's easier to leave the world behind
Walk away, to far unknown
To leave the past behind
Next time we see again
We greet with a nod
Two strangers along the road
We are
And sometimes
It's easier to leave the world behind
Walk away, to far unknown
To leave the past behind
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