Golden Fleece


Do you remember
the white house with the crimson shutters
among the olive and the citrus trees?
Facing the ancient temple,
a light bearer,
contradictious to the mournful blue of the sea.

Are you still the girl with the eerie smile?
My fallen sister? Our prodigal angel?

What remained after the fall?
The plop. The stillness.
Then the escape
towards a footy blissfulness.
The golden fleece.

Your image frays in my mind.
Your name becomes salty.
My lips have forgotten to spell it.
Before I lose you, I baptize you again.




I was born a blue prayer
amidst the ruins of the hospital.
I was caged in the temple’s lighting rod.
A beam of black light pierces my body.
The language of gods dies in my echo.

Aloft, in the bloomy tree houses,
I explained the dogma of non-existence,
with wayward parables,
to pseudo-prophets and indifferent saviors.

An “Amen” and a “Hallelujah”
Remain silent inside my breast.


About the Poet

DSC_0131-640x636-229x349-200x3001Manos Kounougakis was born in Heraklion, Crete. He graduated with a degree in English Studies from the University of Athens and gained a Masters in American Literature at the University of Essex. His PhD research focuses on English Restoration Tragedy. He is a science-fiction author. Moreover, he writes poetry and drama. His stories, poems and articles have been published in Greece and abroad. Manos has also edited magazines and anthologies such as The Red Thread: Contemporary Tales from Athens to Essex. He is the editor of the Greek online literary magazine Chalice: