Christos Armando Gezos was born in
Himara, Albania, in 1988 and grew up in
Greece. He has graduated from the National
Technical University of Athens. He has
published poetry, novels and short stories. In
2013 he received the State Literary Award for
Best Debuting Author. His first novel “The mud”
has been translated into French and Albanian.
He represented Greece at the International
Book Fair of Kiev in 2016 and at the European
Youth Event in Strasbourg in 2018. His short
story collection “See-Saw” has been translated
into seven languages (Albanian, English,
Russian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Romanian,
Turkish) by the National Greek Committee of
Southeast European Studies and the Ouranis
Foundation of the Academy of Athens. His last
novel “Needle Lost” was nominated for the
State Literary Award for Best Novel.
Cliché
The world needs even more poems
about sunsets
wave crests
and loves that somehow ended.
Because
the benches weren’t made
for homeless people to sleep on
the blue recycle bins not made
for gobbling down our garbage
and the moon is not
a slice of aged cheese
left alone in the upper kitchen cupboard.
So much so
We fell in love with life
so much so that we chose death
we missed a single flower
so much so that we rolled in mud
and if we don’t smile very often
it’s so that we can hide
the knives that we use as teeth.
Broken blood
I sleep
I wake
I breathe
Broken blood within my veins
It doesn’t flow
It only
cuts.
The only way
I loved you the way
they kill themselves
those blue birds you so craved to touch.
I picked them all one by one
to make the sky above your bed
the sea on the floor
to dive in and watch you sleep.
And if the only thing I can do
is write poems for you
it is because this is the only way I can talk
just like the flame only knows how
to burn
consuming pine trees
OR
lighting my way
at night when I set out
to find you.
Clear
Clear umbrellas
have always been my favorite
— I take great pleasure
in watching thunders
as they strike on my head.
