MARIOS STILIANAKIS

As published in Volume 10, NO 3, September 2013
THE TEACHERS
Like pillars holding a bridge
The teachers stand before us
For no crossing can ever be made
Without their words to implore us

The teachers are breaking bread
At a tavern in the village square
And they're talking of all that has passed
For no other would ever dare

The teachers know there's an end
To their meal and to every beginning
But the breaking of today's bread
Has nothing to do with winning

The moment at hand is their wealth
The path that has led to the tavern
For everything else they have shed
Long ago in a darkened cavern

Their clothes have gone to the students
Their names were left with the fools
Their books are locked in a cabin
Their souls are bricks at the schools

The teachers have finished their meal
It's time for the students to dress them
In white and in lavender suits
It's time for the students to bless them
May, 2012

JERUSALEM CITY
The moon over Jerusalem city
Is wrapped in a linen veil

The Jews are sleeping
The Armenians too
The Arabs
The Christians
They're all dreaming of you

Of you and of me, and
Of how we've let them be
Of how it has taken so long
Of how much they've yearned to belong

The sun over Jerusalem city
Is bright as a comet's tail

The Jewish children are running
The Armenian children too
The Arab
The Christian
Eager to learn things at school

Of how they've all come to be
Of how they can all learn to see
Their city with no partitions
Their city of a thousand convictions

They learn as they play in the streets
They learn as they share the same sheets
They look at each other and know
That diamonds of all shapes can glow

The old walls of Jerusalem city
Are fading away in the dark

The old dogs in Jerusalem city
See shadows but no longer bark
June, 2012

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