Intersections

The Acrobat

by Andrianna Solomonidou

We were sitting on that balcony above the busy street, the lights, the life, and you were smoking a cigarette. As the fairies ashed around in the ashtray, you smiled but I am still trying to remember the last time your voice spoke in my memory; the redolent remains of a day I drew circles and skipped the rope, hopscotch.

The sky is milky, our dahlias turned black. The tree in the backyard bears none of the pomegranates we ate; each seed a story. I don’t remember how Rosa from your stories danced the blues with her red dress. And I can’t ask anymore. Now I am writing in my suit.

JohnDoe

ByAngelikiMichalopoulou

I'maJohnDoe,Anobody, Anamelessbody,Inthebackground Ofsomebodyelse'sstory.

Beautiful Insecurities

by Evdoxia Maria Dimitriou

There. Beautiful creatures looking in the mirror, doubting their pretty existence, feeling guilty about it and suffering from the insecurities they let others cause.

What a shame, their being blind of their beauty. I guess that is the only explanation. They can't see their charming faces responding to nature. Or their bodies living and protecting that special heart.

Oh, their hearts! Beating to fuel their bodies. To spark their minds, to inspire the people around them. The romance. The love.

Always taking care. But not of themselves.

What a shame…

My Name

by Stamatina Eirini Eleftheriadou

In Italian my name means morning. In Greek it means a good housewife, a unique cook, or a house cat. It is like the number four. Sometimes it is a dull color like gray but other times a more creative color like purple. It is the soccer ball that my brother and I play with at home on Sunday morning, and my mum yells at us, “Stop playing with the ball in the living room!!!” It is like when I draw pictures of daisies on Saturday night and I listen to calm music.

It is my grandmother’s name, and now it is mine too. Her eyes are the same color as mine, which is a common color, shared with many other people; but I find something special in her eyes. They say that eyes are the mirror of our hearts.

My grandmother. I am so lucky to have her in my life. She is as sweet as chocolate or candy.

At school, they naturally call me “Matina”, but my full name is “Stamatina”. I like it when my friends call me “Matina”. The good thing with Matina is that you can make a lot of nicknames from it; some of my friends call me “Mati” or “Mata”, “Mati-Mati” and “Mat”. I really find my name lovely like my grandmother’s hug and I love It. It is the perfect name for me.

By Theoktisti Dimarchopoulou

Waking up in a supermarket

by Alexia Sextou

I go to the supermarket to buy some mangoes. I’ve had five coffees And spent hours on detangling computer wires.

Reciting a poem I remember from fourth grade

I open another three college letters in the mail

The mailman’s teeth were yellow.

We regret to inform you

We regret to inform you

We regret to inform you that

There are no mangoes in store Says the employee

Eyes grey and sunken I notice His neon blue shirt has thinly stuck to the skin.

I wander and run my hand around metal cold the fridges are cold

I open the door and let the icy sternness turn me numb.

Maybe my face will fall off Perhaps I can write about it in a supplemental essay. What is one difficulty you’ve had to overcome.

Well you see one day they had no mangoes So I slept overnight on the kitchen tool isle.

I carried a packet of Pop Tarts with me only to put it back as I left.

In the morning I prayed for a mango tree Hazy misty weather

I notice a puff of greasy air There can grow no mangoes here For it is all ashen and tarnished and empty.

That street was where I would once turn with my dog to go to the park When I was five how lovely it had been I remember green and summer and bees and boys.

My hands have written themselves away – inked blue

I pull my scarf behind my neck twirling it around myself once more. Need to Call Aunt Celine for Christmas.

Taking a walk is good for the body. Aimless walking can be a primary sign of depression. Daily activity helps to relieve stress.

Try not to let it take your spark away. Lights pierce my eyes. I missed a friend’s party Called in sick from the lights.

We have other fruit available if you’d like Kindly I turn down the meaty strawberries. Perhaps I could buy some gum Or whiteout.

I think about how the city seems as stiff as I do In the chilled mornings leaving how nice would it have all been If I simply had some mangoes.

A soda and these rice cakes will do. Maybe I should grow my own There in the sun cracks thread between sky and portwater There may grow my mango tree.

Deadlock

by Marios Michalis Kyrimis

The weather is dark, and angry. Clouds block the sun from reaching the ground. They come down to earth. Now, united as a thick fog, they both block your sight. Then suddenly, it starts raining. A big waterfall is created and surrounds you. The marble on the floor becomes dangerous and it is easy for you to slip and fall. You feel the fear as you hear creepy whispers. Something is lurking in the shadows of the tall trees and its target is no one else but you. Their goal, to remind you of the past. You are trying to find a way to escape. Your sight catches the clean horizon across you. There, fluffy cotton candy clouds are dancing ballet, and they play hide and seek with the sun. You try to get away. You want to get away! But fate has other plans for you. The ghosts of your past are determined to always haunt you. Wherever you go they follow, along with the storm full of memories. You need to escape, to forget. You try to run, you slip, you die!

Rolling Rocks

by Dafni Vitsou

She was wearing wide blue-jeans and shiny purple earrings, she had flowers in her hair and her feet were always bare.

The skies were blue, the sun was bright a guitar was playing in my mind, electric songs for youth and love smelling cinnamon and clove.

The stars of rock may shine again behind the thin window pane, the world would dance and smile once more, the world would be an open door.

Yet time and fame always keep rolling, a curse and blessing that keeps us going the beetles, the trees, the honey bees, will all stop buzzing in the breeze.

A hazy cloud covered her face, she was carrying a suitcase, it was filled with tears and sorrow, she would get rid of it tomorrow.