vazambam

new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block

Pages

Here most of us mill

Around without character,

Others haul millstones.

JohnDecember 31, 2020 at 6:02 PM
Excellent poem about the human condition!
ReplyDelete
Replies

vazambam (Vassilis Zambaras): Meligalas, Messenias, Greece; Born in Greece, I was taken at the age of four to the small town of Raymond, WA in 1948. After high school, I attended the University of Washington but dropped out after a year, spent 1963-1964 traveling in Europe and in Greece, settling in Munich until getting drafted into the US Army. After my discharge, I completed my sophomore year at GHC, Aberdeen, WA, then transferred to the UW where I received an MA in English. In 1970, I co-founded the poetry magazine Madrona and also worked for the Seattle Housing Authority before returning to Greece in 1972. I married Eleni in 1980 and we have a daughter, Efiniki, 42, and a son, Anastasios, 40. I'm now retired from teaching ESL in my language school in Meligalas but still writing poetry--which I've been doing for the last forty-plus years. My poems have been published in various literary magazines in the US and abroad. A number of my poems were also included in the anthology How The Net Is Gripped: a selection of contemporary American Poetry (Stride, UK, 1992), and I have two collections of poetry, Sentences (Querencia Books, 1976), and Aural (Singing Horse Press, 1984).

Rancid

Back On the corner Of First and Duryea, I thought He’d gone off And said Some foul-mouthed runaway Kid named Cid took the bacon Cross the tr...
Alexander-Alexandra Meets Diogenes the Cur

What is this scruffy old dog asking this Nordic-looking goddess? You'll have to go here to find out.
Chair Contemplating Colossus of Cyprus

In the Museum garden Empty chairs: the statues have returned to the other museum. -- George Seferis , from “Sixteen Haiku” Four days ...
The Slings of Outrageous Fortune

The Lawless Years: Urchins on their home turf, armed to the teeth and dressed to kill, First Street, Raymond, Washington, 1949. From left t...
Zen Biker Facing Wind On Narrow Country Road

I don’t know What sounds more Swishing— The sound of bamboo Swishing or the sound Of a boy on his bicycle Swishing through. ...
Black Friday Sellout

All you white Slaves and pimps Of merchandise And other motley Bags of whatnots, It's bad Enough buying A lie but What...
Pathetic Fallacy

Rainy day Bubbles bubbles bubbles Bubbling buoyantly In the gutter they call life Floating by—oh, Oh, the joy of it! To se...
Tinker, Tailor, Do It Over

My life had all The trappings Of a tailor-made poem, Till I discovered I had to alter it.
Daily Gazette

the good news of the day Most mornings We rise ready To wonder How wondrous The twilight will be. . ...
Autumnal Illusion

Butterfly a Lighting on Dazzling Colorful Printed Towel— Opening and closing Its wings, thinking It’s settled On a fl...

by Vassilis Zambaras

2010-2023. Powered by Blogger.