Poems by Maria Kolovou Roumelioti (Greece)

 
Maria Kolovou Roumelioti is a Greek writer, poet, visual artist and long-distance runner - marathon runner born in a small rural village in the Peloponnese, called Vouliagmeni.
 she is a member of many Literary and Artistic Associations and Associations. She has combined all her hobbies together and continues her creative course and personal development with continuous awards and distinctions in all areas where she is active. Many of her works have been included in collective anthologies, literary magazines and newspapers, etc.
 
Her most recent literary distinction comes from the International Literary Association "Creative Tribune" awarding her a Special Nomination Diploma at the Walt Whitman Poetry Competition, for an active public position, a high contribution to strengthening friendly relations between representatives of literary associations, education and development of the culture of interethnic communication.
 
Published and released:
 
1) The poetry collection: “THE ROSES OF THE YEAR “, ORIONAS publications, 2013
2) the novel "ALPHES", DONTI publications, 2016
3) the collection of short stories "THE GOLDEN OF MY LAND", DONTI publications, 2018
4) the novel "IN THE CATACOMB OF MY FLESH", 2022
5) and the poetry collections "ALL NIGHTS", published by DONTI, 2023
And FRAGMENTS” , 2025
 
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WE WANT TO LIVE IN PEACE
Maria Kolovou Roumelioti
 
War is blind and deaf  like Charon...
It does not see!... It does not hear!...
It does not distinguish.. It does not choose...
It does not recognize good and evil... Right and wrong....
 
Everyone and everything  are in the same bag with snakes...
Young... Old... Children.... Women... Men... Parents....
 
It separates mothers and children... Women from men.
It destroys bodies and souls .Vast Empires. Eternal Civilizations.
 
It wipes out entire generations leaving behind it only rubble
with the smell of death.
The living dead- Shadows wandering in the ruins
looking for signs of life...
The wounded who are slowly dying.
 
In war, there are no winners. Everywhere, losses and victims are counted.
 
Death is the ruler... With the smell of burning,  in the hair of children......
 
And we are, simple people!.... And We Want to Live in Peace!
 
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ΤΗΕ STONE OF PATIENCE
Maria Kolovou Roumelioti

The desert is thirsty!  
The shell of the earth is cracking .  
Her heart is crimson blood. 
The stone of patience tilted to the edge of the cliff.  
It is watered in the tears of the world.  
 
Oh, what sweetly  the soil smells like after the rain.  
That is why God created man with earth and water 
to make people smell beautiful!  
 
Angels dance hand in hand.  
They sow tears of the sea,  
cloud tracks,  
the cries of lightning 
they harvest lemongrass in fertile pergolas.  
 
Somewhere we see them… 
They sprinkle a little God inside us  
filling the trough of love‧ 
they wash away the greed of the people to kiss  
the hope to stay alive  
beautiful blooming flowers  
like the faces of people who know how to forgive   
softening the pain. 
 
Oh, how I love the sun after the storm!  
He dresses our nakedness with rainbows.  
It regenerates   our cracked shell. 
 

 
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LERN TO BLOOM
Maria  Kolovou  Roumelioti
 
Wherever life plants you:
You, learn to bloom!....
On the rock: cyclamen!
In the sea: lily!
 In the desert: Rose of Jericho!
 
Wherever the wind throws you,
you, spread roots,
break the stone:
You will find water to water yourself!
 
And ....
And rise up!
to make the sun a friend!
He knows, how to nourish and fertilize the fruits!
 
 
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THE SHIP OF MY DREAMS
Maria Kolovou Roumelioti
 
The ship of my dreams glides
over the sea currents
that Scylla and Charybdis leave behind!.....
 
A transparent boat, my Ithaca!....
No one saw her....
No one answered her...
But I am waiting for her, in case she reveals herself to me!....
 
To entrust her with my letters‧
the ones hermetically sealed in a bottle‧
to travel them to the Infinite Land‧
where the souls of poets stoically wait
to save the fare for their journey!....
 
And somehow,
along the way,
their finale will be written‧
leaving behind them their best poem....
 
That which they had not managed to write,
for the children who will be born with new ideas!