CARMINE LULLABIES 1st & 2nd edition
A Bookworm Publication · Feb 20, 2016 & Feb 20, 2019
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Described by poet Stavros Lambrakis as “the most anti-erotic of erotic poetry,” Carmine Lullabies is an “edgy” poetry collection. Poet and critic Stephanos Stephanides has praised the work for bringing “an original voice to Cypriot English poetry” with its “sharp and racy cadences.”
The collection acts as an assemblage of ruminations about one-on-one intimate encounters. It signals a coming-of-age trajectory, specifically in terms of the ways loss is managed by the work’s many female personas. Anger, bargaining, depression, denial, and acceptance are all part of this processing.
The work is unmistakably nocturnal: with crystallized morsels of sensuality, nightmarish truths, and vignettes of tranquilizing calm. With unexpected moments of dark humor, epigrammatic poem endings, and what writer Maria A. Ioannou has called “rhythmical microcosms flirting with fiery images,” Carmine Lullabies strives to trigger strong emotions in its reader.
A Bookworm Publication · Feb 20, 2016 & Feb 20, 2019
Described by poet Stavros Lambrakis as “the most anti-erotic of erotic poetry,” Carmine Lullabies is an “edgy” poetry collection. Poet and critic Stephanos Stephanides has praised the work for bringing “an original voice to Cypriot English poetry” with its “sharp and racy cadences.”
The collection acts as an assemblage of ruminations about one-on-one intimate encounters. It signals a coming-of-age trajectory, specifically in terms of the ways loss is managed by the work’s many female personas. Anger, bargaining, depression, denial, and acceptance are all part of this processing.
The work is unmistakably nocturnal: with crystallized morsels of sensuality, nightmarish truths, and vignettes of tranquilizing calm. With unexpected moments of dark humor, epigrammatic poem endings, and what writer Maria A. Ioannou has called “rhythmical microcosms flirting with fiery images,” Carmine Lullabies strives to trigger strong emotions in its reader.
FROM CARMINE LULLABIES
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One on One
“Self-mutilation is linked to self-respect” he hissed,
then asked about the past
and I said, “Ever since fifteen, I never was alone.
Perhaps that’s why I picked up smoking,
claim
cigarettes
my own.”
I practiced these lines for emergencies,
‘claim cigarettes my own.’
“One fuck bought me a treadmill ‘cause my ass was fat,
another sent me home in a taxicab to change the skirt that showed my cunt
and yet another beat me each time I spoke like that.”
“Before fifteen?” he asked, I answered,
“I’d like to think of it as a blur. Sir, moving from place to place
and man to man makes one
pure. I think my time is up.”
He said, “I know,” drew out a finger
pointing to my scars, “Remember.
This
is
wrong.”
I said, straight-faced,
“I have a bastard of a cat who likes to claw. A bastard of a cat
and to think
the only reason I got him was to help
straighten up my act.”
Perhaps he looked up from his notepad.
Either way, I stepped outside our masquerade, all satisfied,
with blades and words
hand in hand.
What a grand sham.
Try and reason with grief.
One on One
“Self-mutilation is linked to self-respect” he hissed,
then asked about the past
and I said, “Ever since fifteen, I never was alone.
Perhaps that’s why I picked up smoking,
claim
cigarettes
my own.”
I practiced these lines for emergencies,
‘claim cigarettes my own.’
“One fuck bought me a treadmill ‘cause my ass was fat,
another sent me home in a taxicab to change the skirt that showed my cunt
and yet another beat me each time I spoke like that.”
“Before fifteen?” he asked, I answered,
“I’d like to think of it as a blur. Sir, moving from place to place
and man to man makes one
pure. I think my time is up.”
He said, “I know,” drew out a finger
pointing to my scars, “Remember.
This
is
wrong.”
I said, straight-faced,
“I have a bastard of a cat who likes to claw. A bastard of a cat
and to think
the only reason I got him was to help
straighten up my act.”
Perhaps he looked up from his notepad.
Either way, I stepped outside our masquerade, all satisfied,
with blades and words
hand in hand.
What a grand sham.
Try and reason with grief.