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The Owl's Wise Eyes

To the Self the Great Return

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You’re in a relationship, something isn’t clicking. The sex is great, you enjoy each other’s company, there are good days and some days, well let’s say they’re just…okay. You eat in silence, because there’s not much to talk about. Some nights you find yourself getting up and staring up at the ceiling, hoping that all the doubt you feel inside will be resolved by some kind of miracle. Divine intervention. You pray that your dreams will satisfy you, because the emptiness you feel inside is way too much to bear. There’s something missing but you can’t quite figure out what it is. You can definitely feel it. The reality of the void hits you rock bottom. The heaviness of your stomach rises like a solid to your throat, it sticks to you like a chronic cold. You’re fevering up but you still can’t find the courage to move on. Afraid to hurt yourself or is it another? Honesty is the greatest commitment. You can’t pretend to be something you never were meant to be. Nor can you fool yourself any longer. What you feel is real and moving forward is the only way to heal. You can’t drag someone else along with you. In love, we take no hostages. The only casualties that remain at the end of a battle are our own selves. We pick ourselves up and mend our wounds alone. That is the only way to find our way back home. The journey is always a long and lonely one, but in the end no matter what we will find ourselves. Just like it was in the beginning, so we find ourselves in the end. To the self the great return.

©Nicoletta

Ascension

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I know it to be true. There is a way to break this spell, cast by thousands of lives. I am paying for the sins of my fathers and mothers. The blood in my hands, dripping in lines. Spiralling in any direction, never pointing the way. Always a battle, the way of the world. I am moving forwards, I can feel it in my steps that hinder so. I can hear the beat of my heart, it is asking me to calm my mind. The noise too broken to comprehend. I feel the music silence me to the stillness of breath, and yet somewhere down below the cold night beckons me to doubt my instinct. The gut, my eternal Sun. I taste the brightness drawing closer to my spirit. It is lighting me to change. I am to become something entirely new. Teardrops pray up to the sky for answer. Confession, in no other color but violet. Rising up is the only way.

©Nicoletta

Tunnels and Flashlights

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The way we turn with no return. Regrets, we miss the ones we love most.
A chance they say is a gift of life, the only way to to start over again.
Back to the beginning, never the end.
There’s no pretending we’ve every won this battle of ours.
But still, we try, we always will.
Until the sight of the brightest light, we will journey tunnels of the dark.
And come the day we break free, I will find my way back to you.

©Nicoletta

Dear My Girl

1 Relationship Street
Planet Venus
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Dear My Girl,

He’s really not worth it, he never was actually. He will call you up every Friday and every Friday after. You will be known as “Friday girl”, and I don’t suppose you’ve ever met Miss Saturday and Sunday?
I sincerely invite you to see the world from a weekday perspective. Mondays are always the test, a fresh new start. You can wear the day with all you need to do, responsible you are, brighter than that. How about Tuesdays? The thrill is always mid-day when you’ve waited for excitement only to find yourself window shopping, already spending your next salary with your eyes alone. Tighten up, Wednesdays are always the best. Hit the gym, lift a weight or two and when your through bath it up, lavender and bubbles soaking you to calm. Thursday ah…what a day, living the night in your very own bedroom. Lights are out and you are free to dream. Chocolate cake will do, only when you’re desperate.
My girl, can’t you see? Friday will never let you down. You will live harmless Saturdays and Sundays. Please consider my offer. We can plan it all out, sign it off on contract. Integrity in our ink. Single is the new you.

With my kindest regards,

Your Girl.

Waves

As we swim our way over the next coming months, let us take the ocean with us…connecting to it’s ongoing flow…keeping calm and letting go… Special thanks to my genius sister Alexandra for filming & editing but most of all for making my spoken poetry video dreams come true.

~waves

Waves how they come and go Never know where they’ll take you Waves how they swim their way Kissing the sun awake Blessing the moon goodnight That is their fate Flow how they glow I will dance in wave Pray I grow as one with it And while I’m dreaming I’ll wash the shore Until I am no more Not me Nor he Never she I am a wave A wave I am A wave I’ll always be.

Morning Frida

The child me had the bushiest Frida eyebrows you’ve ever seen…how I hated myself. Each time I looked into the mirror I would refuse to believe that the image staring back at me was actually me. The kids would pick on me at school…I was this funny looking kid from this remote Mediterranean island nobody knew about. I spoke the same language…but my American accent couldn’t fool kids into believing I was like them. So one day after school, I picked up my mom’s shaving razor and headed to the mirror. Within minutes I was transformed…Frida eyebrow no more…I went downstairs to tell my mom the good news. I will never forget the look on her face. In that minute her eyes had absorbed the whole world’s sadness. Was I free? Never free, if not me. Today, I look back at the baby me and smile. I actually had a Frida eyebrow. How freaking cool is that?? But hey…I wish I was as brave as Frida Kahlo to stick with the look. But guess this story…my story is a different one. 
©Nicoletta

Victorious 

Some people are fearless, as if they were born to create the most bizarre, crazy story and say “this was my life”. My grandma is one of those people, born on a day like this one 75 years ago. I was the only grandchild blessed to be named after her, Niki is Greek, meaning “the victory of the people”…And how I wish the legend of victorious spirit lives on not only in my family, but in yours and theirs so that one day we all wake up and say what a powerful, fearless warrior I AM! Let us all celebrate the Niki in us today and in all days to come. 

©Nicoletta

Agios Sozomenos 

Over the healing hills of Agios Sozomenos my grandpa Antonis would stand with binoculars for a chance to get a glimpse of his village Tymbou. Now part of the turkish occupied area, everything that once belonged to him and his family were lost…only left in blurry images to be viewed at a distance. The house my grandparents Antonis and Nikki had built, now belonged to someone else, the land still ripe with fruit now picked by foreign hands…but let us not dwell in the past. Let us start at the very beginning…the magic. Before Antonis was born, his father Demetrios owned very little, so little that his family had barely anything to eat. These were poor times, where people were forced to survive out of hard work and determination. Demetrios invested in farmland in his village Tymbou but the land proved barren and dry. Day and night he prayed for a miracle, yet nothing seemed to change. Despite it all Demetrios never gave up, his iron will always pushed him forward. One morning, while digging in the land, Demetrios stumbled upon something strange. It was a wooden frame, when he turned it over it was a silver-plated icon of Saint Marina. It looked very old, almost 100 years old or so. A strong believer in the mystical, he brought the icon back home as he took it as a good omen. That night, he had a vivid dream, a woman dressed in white spoke to him telling him to plant cotton in the land and that it would soon turn to gold, in return she wanted him to build a church in her honor. A few weeks went by…everything in a constant standstill, Demetrios prayed to Saint Marina and asked for help as he decided to plant cotton in the fields. In the coming months a miracle happened, the land prospered in cotton…leading to Demetrios receiving profit…business flowed so well that he soon hired employees of his own…leading to him buying more acres of land…leading to him practically owning most of the land in the village and becoming the richest man in Tymbou. He hired people with the kindness of his heart, offering them a stable pay and even food for their families. And in the land, the first piece of land he bought he built a church in the name of Saint Marina, a home for the icon he had found. This was a church later known as a miracle giver, people would pray to the Saint and give her offerings as she performed their miracles. My grandpa Antonis and his brothers inherited the land when his father Demetrios passed over, and kept it in prosperous conditions as they also had the charm of hard work, blessed with the gift of kindness. In 1974 everything was lost after the war but what surprises me the most is that my grandpa never ever lost his smile. It still shines bright to this day, his face is one of gratitude and grace. 

© Nicoletta 

Wildflower

Excited to present a new spring project of mine. Welcoming new beginnings, let us start fresh with inspiration, heart and a spirit wild. ~Nicoletta

So much love and gratitude to my sister Alexandra for filming & editing.

Follow her @pricklypeartravel.wordpress.com

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