Burglars in thought

She explains sobbing
that burglars invaded her house
took her jewelry and raped
senile values.

Why is she not happy about it?

I haven't had a burglar
set foot in my house for years
not even for coffee.
I deliberately leave the pot unlocked.

When returning home every time I pray
to find the door's eyeteeth broken

the lights to tremble as if they banged
on the head of a tall earthquake

to find the hoards
from the mirror's mummy kingdoms stolen

as if someone had shaved in the bathroom
and a beard has grown on my hairless touch
their denial tied up laying on the floor 

and from the kitchen the slowly approaching steam of
a warm footstep with lots of cinnamon on top.

Solitaire

Life
was born in its past
it spends there most of its time
and only comes here
to fulfil the present

- we were being tactful when we named it life.
We would have named it brevity
but such a swift name
is an insult
to creation

its arrival is rousing
it travels with a bunch of optimistic
artistic views

that the dreamy future
is not far from the present

as a fresh phrase
from a dream's cry out

as your lips from the parting's
lips.

But the arrival's journey is long
when are we reaching the parting's lips?
life asks every now and then
anxious
will the unknown wait for it
at the station?

otherwise
it doesn't know where to go on its own.

And there, on the way
to this long anxiety
life
first learns to dream.


---------------------------------------------

Personal notes: 

This poem was published as part of the collection 'The finder's fee' (2010). 
Its themes involve life, its brevity, and hope. 

The first stanza may suggest an obsession or preoccupation with the past as being a detriment to life in the present. It may also suggest the importance of the past in shaping the present. The last line in this stanza suggests that what we call 'life' or 'living' happens in very brief instances - life in the present is brief. In contrast, as suggested by the third line, living in the past (literally and figuratively) is a much longer affair. 

The second stanza directly addresses life's brevity. The poet is in a playful mood, a bit sarcastic but at the same time, surprisingly, respectful (I realise these may sound contradictory). 

Dimoula acknowledges, with a hint of sarcasm, that life is brief, but also recognises that life is part of a bigger concept which demands respect, what she calls 'creation'.

In the rest of the poem she addresses the necessity of hope in our lives. We live in hope that the future will fulfil our dreams, knowing that what actually will happen is unknown. Her argument is not profound, but is universal and true. Despite, or because of this unknown and the inevitable 'parting' with life and the people we care about, humans dream and hope.