Pete's Poetry

Feb.11

Untitled

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

Oh the stars
how could i forget the stars
the spectacle of the Greek night
the great chasm of black
that connects to
the lingering blue of the Mediterranean
the mountains are camouflaged tan
to hide beneath the crickets
and the lizards
and the silent trees
as the specters slip
from caves deep in darkened tan

The black night is invaded
only by the moon's piercing glow
but Orion protects my sleep
and Cassiopeia fills my night
with dreams of heroes
after the Seven sisters
have sung me into a deep
dreamy sleep

Feb.08

Knossos

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

Can you hear the locusts
all around?
They surround the palace
and siege the Minoan ruins with sound.
Everywhere an arid tan.
Windless
the dust settles on the green umbrella
of the trees dotting the intermittent hillsides
Then…
the wind bellows
tormenting the dry and delicate dust,
unsettled as if by the spirits of glorious armies…
Mycenae’s conquering troops.
A miniature tempest bursts from the palace stones
to settle again – but never settle like the spirits
and the chirping locusts all around.

Jan.22

Formation of the Celts

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

Through dreams portents and visions
I found the Fertile Crescent’s
Mesopotamian world
Of Darius and Xerxes
From Cyrus’ long descent.
Ships flew fast from end to end
Close guarded by Persian ports
At Carthage, Tyre and Issus,
To gather up the world and
Place upon the feet of men
Whose hubris plays undaunted.

Then rose a polis to fling
Insult at Xerxes’ demands.
Greeks tore at the tattered fringe of
Darius’ weakened rule
For free men fight unchained
With wild arms eschewing pain
To protect that life they hold
So dear to city and state.
But soon greatness grew to greed
As Midas’ touch tainted
They fell to fight in factions.

Macedonian phalanx
Bound by land, bound to conquer,
Regained the great Greek world,
Turned attention to Persia
And doled greatest injury
At hand of Phillip's issue.
But Alexander alone
Could bond his conquered world and
Power fell to power new,
As Rome did rise to grasp at
Reigns of Neptune’s stone white steeds.

Then northern Latins rumbled
Down and splashed and stomped around,
Trod heavy on land and sea,
Reached full round Europe’s extant
Mediterranean sound.
But pillars of pride tumble
Down like men in acts of war.
Then, battle-axe to beaker
Mingled in Europe’s Celtic
Plain but left the world unmarred
By city, greed or guilt of sin.

THE GATES OF GREECE RECALLED

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poetry Explained, The Greek Sun

The series of poems entitled AT THE GATES OF GREECE:

All were written in 1991 as I ventured from Athens to the volcanic sands of Santorini and ended my journey with a month sleeping on a beach on the South side of Crete in a little hippy town of Matala.

Aug.06

Glory

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

Oh veiled visage of my dreams
think not so of serious things.
Shade thine eyes not thy heart,
lest my love should soon depart.

Aug.06

Sight Unseen

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

I danced a ballet in Matala
as I watched the mountains grow.
Waves crashed upon the rocks
in rhythm of wind power
and I dove their heights
to recount my sins.
The sun fell fast in a silent song
of red and tan
followed only by blue.
There I went to dance
and color renew.

Aug.06

Atlantis Revisited

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

The black sands of Perissa
spoke today
as my feet slowly sank
in the sand,
each receding wave
sliding back under the next.
A rainbow of black appears
through the laughing blue Aegean surf
and erases the footprints
to where I stand
as it erased ten thousand
before.

There are colors here. . .
dusty, olive green trees
line the beach
and speckle the tan mountainsides
that rim Thira,
that ancient volcano.
The houses - white and blue trimmed
form a negative
of the vast blue sky
touched with a soft brush of billowing white
and the big blue
speckled and fanned with crests of white foam.

But the blood red of Homers sky
and the rainbow black sand--
black like death--
shook, with clenched fists,
this antique world,
buried the prosperous Minoans
and created the myth
of Atlantis.

Aug.06

Matala by Night

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

On Crete, the day
belonged to the sun.
I walked with sandaled Minoans
on the rocky strand by morning,
climbed the craggy peaks
to dive from Matala's cliffs in the noon's fiery light,
and swam the big blue waters
with the midday sun's brilliance warming the depths of my muscles.
Apollo's sun shone and filled my eyes with the Greek ideals,
and even dusk's red haze fluttered
in the pages of my drowsy book
carried on a breath of museful wind.

But the night
belonged to Anna,
the one the muses had kissed
but I could not.
The speckled sky and the envious moon
were lost from my affected eyes
for she outshone them all.
More desirable was she
than Eden’s apple
or Paris' Helen.
Anna's face had not launched a thousand ships,
but brought mine to harbor
in Matala by night.

Anna's Response

I
fly

Aug.06

Jul.10

King of Kings

Posted by Peter Liptak in Poems, The Greek Sun

Here are the rocks
that jut from the ocean
in the second movement
of King of Kings

The first movement-
the ocean
for surely its power
came first

In the recapitulation
came man
that first Minoan
whose feet gripped the sand
in the sliding surf
when the song burst through him:

"And He shall reign for ever
and ever"