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It is a book that I want to write about experiences of one year of solitude and creativity, based on real life experiences and clear knowledge. The poems talk about life, are little complex, have personal and non influences, with metaphors of philosophy, psychology, and religion.
I am down to 1% of my goal please RETWEET
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/poems-of-man-and-life
Short Summary
My name is Panagiotis Bozelos, civil engineer and architect. Since a child I like to read books. In my free time I make some drawing.
The campaign is about funding a poems and art book in order the book to come to reality.
I am have completed about 50 poems and writing some more.
The purpose is to publish a book with about 100 poems, including some artwork.
The book will be published in endless copies, after having making an agreement with a publishing company.
The book will be in digital and printed format. (included audio book)
The poems talk about life, love, human feelings and emotions, rationality, the complexity of thought and living, and other matters.
The themes of the poems are a little complex, have personal and non influences, with metaphors of philosophy, psychology, and religion.
When this book gets funded, it will take 1-4 months to publish.
The contributors will help me to publish the book, as other people to read nice poems and see some art.
In the end is a little poem called things, would be glad to read it…
What We Need & What You Get
I need an fund of 2000 to complete, write and publish this book.
Unique perks include art and book sent via email (art can be print in a local printer in nice thick paper).
If I don’t reach the final goal the funds go for the time writing to book, and some donations to poor people living in Greece.
After the funding I will need some time, 1-4 months to complete the book.
Other Ways You Can Help
Some people just can’t contribute, but that doesn’t mean they can’t help:
If you cant help, and you know someone who can, please tell him.
Two poems
Things
Love died fast, dreams flied to the dark sky
Rotten faces, rotten everywhere
People lost in cars, and clothes, and lipsticks and things
Things everywhere…
Things, that disguise of life, the big little things
A doll, a company, a wife, and some children,
slave things of diverted men and women.
This is what some men became…
Disguise like an axe growing inside.
Cars and TV, and clothes and lipsticks, and men unfree.
Things, replacing lives with things
Things of beauty,things of ugliness, these little big things
Forgotten love, forgotten hopes, forgotten emotions and feelings,
A life is all replaced by nice little big things.
Things of sorrow, things of pain, big little things…
This is what things are…
The house is never empty, is always full of things.
An empty house cannot have a lot of things.
Useless names and faces, useless things…
Trying to become alive, to throw things away…
Fear without reason, fear of change,
Fear in everything, fear of knowledge.
Everywhere loss, everywhere things.
A lost self, lost in things.
Darkness and light, and color and rainbows,
That is what the man is made of…
Deep inside on darkness, a wild beast, born without reason…
Should it be like that?
Some things must be replaced.
The walk of a child – man
There is a path and a road.
Sometimes you get out of the house, remembering things…
Take the road that leads to the path?
“No, too early today, I should stay home”, answered himself.
One a child was weak and then strong, but always innocent.
Years made the child a man, a child in age different called man.
The child took several roads, several paths
Years ago a girl whisper to the boy, “Never be afraid… Live…”.
The boy didn’t hear well
The old man hears better
The old whisper is still here
Some trees are singing to the wind
Remembering the calmness of existence
Roads and paths, the innocence exists.
“Got to get out of the forest to take the loner path”, said to himself.
The loner is still searching for the stars
A look in the sky, a happy face staring,
exploring with the calmness of the night.
The man deep inside is still a child
The moon is here, will ever be.
The sun is here, will ever be.
Only deep inside remains a child.
The wind will blow in a different somehow same way,
the trees will sing a more lonely song.
The river will flow for ever….
Thanks,
Panagiotis