Strikes

 

Happy Hump Day world! How is your week going on? Anything new and exciting? My week started with an unexpected day off, because there was a strike of the public transport and I couldn’t go to work. We didn’t have buses, but we had rain … plenty of it, loads of heavy and wet rain. I liked the rain actually, it was nice to stay home and listen to it knocking on the windows. The strike though made me a bit upset, it’s unbelievable how your plans can go down the toilet with the blink of an eye. It reminds me of so many other times I couldn’t go to work, or I couldn’t do something I wanted to, because of a demonstration or a protest.

It was one Saturday at home, few weeks ago, I was supposed to just clean the flat, maybe have over for lunch my cousin and my nephew…  It was a Saturday after a very tensed week and I didn’t feel like doing anything big.

I was drinking my morning coffee on the balcony when the phone rang and friend of mine called to say he is in town for the day and he would love to see me. I have this rare talent to choose friends, to connect, to fall in love with people that are not exactly next door, but most of the time really faraway, sometimes across the ocean … I don’t see my dear people often and when I do it’s a big joy. I was really happy with the phone call and the meeting to follow, I couldn’t wait to see my buddy, to have a laugh, to talk, to be near someone  I absolutely enjoy being with.

Getting dressed and running out of the flat was with the speed of the light, going to the bus-stop was like flying and all I was praying for was to be lucky  and not to wait much for some transport to appear. I wasn’t there even for a minute when I heard an old lady explaining to a man, how she waits for more than an hour for the bus, because there is a demonstration speech and the roads are closed.

–” Uh! Not again!”- I said quietly and just thought of  the best short cut walking to the place my meeting was.

Few months ago I would go furious when something like this would happen, but now after so many closed streets, after so many days and nights sleeping and waking up with the news, so many times walking home, because of strikes or demonstrations I just didn’t have the energy to get upset. It’s not the walking that would get me mad, I love walking and is not that I wouldn’t find a way to meet my friend or complete something I really need to, it’s the whole “messing with the day routine” attitude in cases like this.

I certainly don’t have the proper political education to speak with competence about matters like this, but I’m sure I am smart enough to have an opinion. And I wonder what kind of a political leader makes its speeches in the center of the town, blocking all roads, stopping the life of normal people in the middle of the day? And what exactly is that some people think will achieve with a strike or a demonstration? I certainly don’t underestimate the power of speech, I definitely don’t reject the right to protest, to express unhappiness, to stand for human rights, but don’t they see? There is no result, not a positive one at least!

Most of these acts in the past months were followed by broken properties, ruined days and even dead innocent people. Isn’t it the leader of a political party or a country the one to be a role model? Isn’t it the leader who is supposed to show the right way to behave and deal with the crisis? I might be wrong of course, as I said I don’t have the best political knowledge.

The other day someone told me:” You’re not Greek! Why do you care?”. I said nothing then, I didn’t want to start an argument, because I in general am a person of peace. And yes! I don’t have the right to call myself Greek, because I simply am not! But I have the right to feel for this town,  for this country! I live here! I’m part of it! I have the right to love the white buildings, the narrow one-way streets, the palm trees, the history in the air, the smell of the sea, the people around me who welcomed me as one of them and helped me to set my life here, the flat I rent, the language, the comedy theaters, the Freddo coffee, the heat and the bright summer. I have the right to say that here is my home and I love it!

So maybe, just maybe …I’m asking here: Isn’t it a time everyone of you to reconsider the way of thinking? Isn’t it a time to try a different path to escape the misery and the bad life, to stop demolishing, but build, to stop writing nasty words in black on the walls all over Athens, but draw icons of hope and a better tomorrow? Because one of these days, you might wake up to see there is nothing left to ruin, not even the pride to call yourself citizens of this lovely town!


Image by Melissa Alicia Photography

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles

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Broken glass

Broken glass

Glass with wine, bright and appealing red, sweet wine,
that was my heart full of love.
I gave it to you by all known and accepted rules.

At first just a sip for degustation,
with my breath away, expecting secretly the reaction,
I saw your lips touching the edge of the glass,

the red drops of sin meeting your taste censors.
I saw the green in your eyes sparkling and I knew, you loved it.
-“Please can I have more?”- I heard your voice.

And I filled half of the glass again.
It was like a fairytale to live you feeling the smell, the taste,
the color, the texture … everything with unbelievable grace,

to see you intoxicated in such an elegant way.
-“That’s not enough, please more!”- I had you begging me.
I couldn’t resist and I filled the glass to the top this time.

And then is when the crack came …
I don’t know how? Was the wine too much for the fine glass?
Or my love was extremely strong for your heart?

Either way the sound of broken touched the marble floor,
the bright red was quickly absorbed from the carpet
and the gleaming white became ash of roses.

I closed my eyes in panic, in disbelief.
I heard you saying -” We can get a new glass.”
But no. Don’t. Is not only the glass broken, our dream went blind,

the love is not coming back renewed either.
New dream is knocking and I play there without you,
happy and free, without a trace of  broken glass and dreams.

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Image by Rodney /8025glome/ on deviantart.com

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles

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In your arms

In your arms

Seeing woes and dismay,
the sky turned his look to the ground
and surly and gloomy, shouted
to the dancing clouds: ” Disappear! “

The air froze still and only couple of branches
shivered, expecting the cold to destroy them,
to overthrow them with dampness,
with stickiness and filth.

The light blue became unpleasant gray and
the stars scared, decided to escape.
The roar of thunder, the snap of light, the wet stain
after one drop of rain, you hear: ” Be afraid! “

But I’m not, not tonight. I feel how the wind blows,
right through stone walls. I see water pouring down,
I hear the ghastly noise bringing together earth and sky.
In your arms though, everything is faraway and I am safe …

Image by Blaga Todorova

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles