Arrived in Athens. Poems.

Just arrived in Athens to deposit evidence at Areios Pagos in relation to the corruption of deputy prosecutor Efstathia Spyroupoulos. Spyropoulou is now investigating Greece’s top judge following charges filed by banker Andreas Vgenopoulos. I suspect it is a  politically motivated attempt to remove an honest judge.

Readers of my blog will know Athens, a truly beautiful city, always put me in a mood of poetry.  This afternoon sitting in the café of the Acropolis Museum was no different.


Are you watching the collapse of civilisations?
A tragedy? A comedy?
A process watched from a terrace
with a view of the Acropolis
is both sides of the coin at once.
Is it fear you feel as you look down at the city?
Filled with terrible images, people,
hopeless, homeless, begging.
Is it joy you feel as you look up
at the marble citadel perched on a rock,
Washed in the brightness of eternal sunlight?
Who can say?
Is it pain and bitterness we drink,
Or is it hope, intoxication,
as we see what we are capable of,
in a perfect marble form,
the soul’s exulting in its immortality?
Everything can break apart, crumble.
But our soul, immortal, never dies.



acropolis 2

Crashing light,
splintering presence
around the edges,
creating a square
a shadow, a kind of stone,
out of lightning.
Is it real? Or a dream?





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