Andreas Timotheou, THE INSIDE WORD, and other underwater stories

The inner words of poetry

You sing unborn words

and stand in an otherworldly corner

to create a path.

Day after day you insist

on a bigger embrace,

a secret promise of always.

That's why I tell you,

without sacrifice, poems are not written.

In our warm bed

years of loneliness mourn

and streets bloom with cyclamens

a celebration of your arrival.

(The inside word)

Ninth poetry collection and tenth book by Andreas Timotheou, who has been actively involved in literary events in Cyprus and Greece over the past fifteen years. Just three years ago, another poetic work by him made an impression, this time "Clothes of Grief," published as a tribute to the 100th anniversary of the birth of his beloved Maria Callas. Callas again finds her place in this poetry collection through the opera "Traviata," and through Donizetti's famous opera "Anna Bolena," in his poem "The Body of the World": I lie in the unjust/ and at dawn, queen/ my story is told with vivid precision/ of the darkness of time./ I tremble, as sober as I can/ for what is growing/ I set a table for the unexplainable/ and keep my head upright/ on a lavish plate. Nothingness/ the nothingness of our world/ and always that lifeline/ next breath,/ a vow that my creator/ still fulfills.

"Poetry, you accompanied me/ even if I was a liar," writes Andreas Timotheou in the last poem "Tenth Presence," which explores his restless passage from darkness to light, from "years of silence" and "years of shame" to reveal the redemptive process of art-purification, freeing us from burdens that weigh heavily on our life journey. He adds in the same poem: I hid in words, a saint/ seeking excuses/ to escape persecution./ Perpetual caress/ held me/ from the labyrinthine faces of the night/ until calmness determined/ the light of a white day.

A poetry that firmly stands on its feet (and in our hearts), reading life through the colors of the sun as love gives birth each time: -If you syllable love/ will you still love?/ -It's too early for miracles,/ when the body speaks. Rule or exception/ within the passage of time, we will become love,/ we will become the poem.

Small pearl-like vignettes that contain substance within concise poems—bonsai of perfect aesthetic and sensibility in "Shells of Thoughts" as well as in poems like "Small Drowning": A sailor for you/ I became a mother,/ a paper ship/ that drowns me, and "Baptism": Our animals are the Pool of Siloam/ without angels and water/ become divine care/ antidote and healing/ impression and vision and spirit.

From the distinctive definitions of the unique Cyprus in the poem "My Land," a hymn (and a journey) for the island of Aphrodite: My land, an unwavering ladder in time. We stand in each poem of the collection. Let’s simply mention "When I Grow Up" with a special lyrical surrealism. To highlight some scattered lines from the book: I will leave behind blue memory/ and a few unknown words/ only for those who kissed me/ in July. Blinking lids/ bells of silence,/ August drips silence,/ without farewell/ but with a welcome/ hanging on their lapel.

The garment, lace, clothing remain sacred elements in this collection as well. A mystical relationship that breathes life and continuity, connecting the past with the present but also towards the future, see also the poem "Minimal Care": When from Your tomb/ I remove wild grasses/ I fear I am committing an insult.

"Miner of Love,/ I excavate/ every resistance/ to live you," writes Andreas Timotheou, who digs into poetry each time to find the word-shelter. The collection is dedicated to his partner Arthur. A special book, full of local dialects, 15-syllable lines, beautiful musical background in each word, contained with maturity, truth, and substance in every poem: Fired-up cloud/ love, a strange right of Poetry/ as the lake darkens./ Moments have no knowledge/ only memory.