*dedicated to Maria Callas
Diva in all you do, you fell in love, you adored, you honored.
But you couldn't find a compassionate shoulder to rest on.
Those who held your hand, broke it.
You could only come together with codeine, the grief was unbearable.
And on your angry but proud outburst
You followed gestures blindly and were chained.
on the hanging corners of the lips of those who succeeded
to betray you - even if you don't notice it -
despite all the painful things that happened to you
during your wanderings in the seas of Scorpio
with the yacht of suffering.
How to make them seem worthy of your expectations,
those who lived only to entertain the rumors of cosmographers
and only reinforce their own unblemished image
and not to offer you love and protection,
escape from mental exhaustion?
Like some tycoons,
with smiling faces, gray hair,
hawkish eyes and thick glasses,
that they gave you to understand for good
who have the power to seduce at all times
with emerald gifts and bubble words
tying foreign lives to fruitless hopes.
You said, it can't be, love doesn't fall apart like that!
It is not linen velvet nor thin and transparent chiffon.
But everyone loved you for your dazzling appearance, Maria!
The glow you emitted, the voice you gave,
your captivating elegance.
No one for your fragile soul.
The bougainvillea and jasmine were for the First Lady.
The heart-shaped ruby ring was for JFK's widow
The light-colored gown and diamond jewelry were for Jackie.
All Croesians want famous companions, Maria.
Directors, producers, impresarios. Everyone.
All butlers want a Callas.
They share their bed just as they share their ambitions.
Aristos alone was the sun king.
That you never took him out of your life.
He went to sleep alone somewhere on Mandel Avenue.
A human skeleton in a vertical fall.
You, a Medea of Pasolini,
You were ungratefully embodying your fatal passion for Onassis – Jason.
Until, your color disappeared from your face,
when you never crossed paths again.
Nine years is definitely enough years.
to regret in your own peace.
But nine years of marriage are not enough
to say that life has been generous to you.
Nine years almost seem like crumbs, Maria.
They remind me of Fenakis.
As dazzling as your last look.
Overwhelming.
Like a complete defeat.
Photo By CBS Television – eBayfrontback, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37848669, https://el.wikipedia.org/wiki/
