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Alex Keramidas

Alex Keramidas is an Italian/Greek poet and writer based in South East London. She enjoys working with translation and connections between different languages and writes poetry predominantly in English, her fourth language. Throughout her writing there is an element of idiomatic tag, with thoughts traced back through a warren of Greek, Italian, French and English as she navigates her tongues and selves in an attempt to turn lingual knots into lanyards. Her poems have appeared in various independent magazines and publications, including Dears Magazine (CH), Litter (UK), Lucy Writers (UK), Fugitives and Futurists (US) and Rivista (IT). Her poetry pamphlet VESTIBULAR TRAINING is forthcoming with Bored Wolves in March 2024.  


instagram: @alexandrakera

 

After Dante’s Inferno


It’s old like the world


I would begin by

asking the poet

to gladly speak to those two

that are going together.

In the wind

they appear to

be light and bright.


Yet ever since the subject,

your softer silence

insisting

that we move

beyond the breakwater.


A boat of variations

carried in the stream

by felled trees.

Each branch

will bow

and be simple.


It was impossible

to know this as

distinct history.


 

More please

(Paolo and Francesca)


We were reading one day for delight


the desired mouth

to be kissed by this famous lover

from whom I will never be divided

one ghost said it while the other cried


On reading this I came close to vanishing

and dropped like a dead body


this love feels mortuary

not that kind of little death


 

Pietro della Vigna


By the roots of this malevolent wood I swear

I have not broken faith

with this tree growing its head underground


it has seventy-seven roots and seventy-seven branches

on the seventy-seven roots stand seventy-seven dragons

on the seventy-seven branches stand seventy-seven crows


it tells me what I want to hear but mostly what I don’t

I continue to listen ostensibly

to this eyeless head a logothete


in the mornings when it follows me

in the evenings when I follow it to unrequited places


 


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