Short Story This Friday – ‘The Wall’

A short story originally written in response to Trumps potential presidency. It will be released this Friday and can be read for free at christosfloratos.com

Here is an short excerpt:

Outside the wall, the press lined up tenaciously, all with smiles and pens that had run out of ink. Children licked their Mexican flavoured ice creams as they sat atop their parent’s shoulder’s. Those same parents looked happily ahead.

From Christos Floratos “The Wall”

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A Tissue

By Christos Floratos

A ring-a-fear around the world,

A tissue… a tissue.

No – no more than a pocket full of tissues.

This roll of paper has mummified the world.

Graves aren’t too much of an issue after we’ve curled.

Those black screens show blue, white and black masks.

The Asians, the Asian.

The Italians, the Italian.

From the sky they fall like China Dolls.

From the sky they fall like Golden Crucifixes.

And each piece of broken ceramic and metal can’t resist but to

              enter and violate your nose, throat and your lungs.

We all fall down.

Reach for the tissue – if you have wrestled for one.

Have you fought yet for the toilet king crown?

Only those most fashionably early would have won.

And as they say, beggars can’t be choosers.

Those poor people, once again, are the losers.

A broken hip? A carer who drives you once a week?

Almighty, He would say,

“Give it a go, for you have a go! You are not weak.”

And after the Ashes, and after the ashes.

When tied around our necks are sashes

Where violence would leave unhealable gashes

 Who’d be responsible caring for the sick masses?

Why, surely it would not be I?

For all I would need is a tissue, my guy.

My coughs are incognito as a sigh.

So, who is responsible for the elderly and compromised?

None of us, no doubt.

Consider who are your posies.

What flower shall you use to ward off

              The bland smell of phlegm from your nose.

A water droplet can pass through the tissue.

And one dirty tissue; that is all it takes now,

              To swim through the vastness of people, current, like a riptide.

For your young legs work and you coerce yourself a bow.

              Those unlike you will have a doctor with a gavel by their side.

Year Reflections – Poetry

This year has provided an exciting opportunity to be able to share my writing at a official and published capacity. This is the first of my year reflections post, specifically focusing on me thinking about my poetry this year!

Autumn, That Bastard

‘Autumn, That Bastard’ is my first poetry collection that I have publicly shared. This has been a great opportunity to show and have my poetry be read by anyone at anytime. Not all my poetry will be posted like this, but I wanted something that could be read without having to pay because, like my last poem ‘Stagnation’ hints, ‘fuck capitalism.’

Some  notes about the poems:

  • Authenticity – this poem felt like a great introduction to how I feel about stepping into the world of pseudo-published writing. The structure is also different enough from typical poems to generate initial curiosity into the collection.
  • Leviticus – I keep going back to this poem as one of my favourite poems out of this collection. The last line “No questions? No Question.” is something so powerful that I am so happy I produced. 
  • When Winter is expected – Lily’s death is something that I oddly still think about, even though she was a dog. That sentiment of ‘she is more than just a dog’ resonates throughout the poem, as she was an unforgettable part of my life and the least I could do was immortalise her in this poem.
  • Grey House – This poem originally started as a simple song I tried to write in my early learnings of the Saxophone when I was very young. The points of high I capture in the poem (moving to a new apartment) and the points of low (realising it was for the worst) came from me testing the combination of high and low notes.
  • The Apocalypse Cometh – This poem was written way before I even knew who Greta Thunberg was but now that I am aware of so much more regarding climate politics, to the point I think about the state of our world ecologically every day, this poem only strengthens the warnings that our planet is vulnerable.

Check out all the poems here!

Bubbles

Bubbles was a great collection to help support an organisation I very much appreciated. It was interesting centralising six poems over theme that I did not set. This collection, unlike ‘Autumn, That Bastard’, is exclusively available for those who contributed to my fundraising efforts this year as an incentive and thank you in supporting my efforts.

I felt creating a publication for it was very rewarding but also was a big time commitment I did not expect. Dabbling my foot into this design area has given be a better understanding of what I should be doing in future self-publishing endeavours if I choose that route. If I do not end up doing this, it will at least provide a lot of appreciation of how much it must take for an indie author!

Other Poetry Dabbles:

While not posted, I did work on some other poetry not a part of these two collections. These usually were inspired by some worldly event. It let me reflect on how and when I actually start to write poetry – what my drive is and where I am most likely to come up with poetic prose. Not much of this was at home, in fact, a lot of poetry sprung to me when I was on the go or doing something. I found my poetry routine, of sorts, and doing poetry outside these collections reinforced that this art is something I can work on but also isn’t something to be forced.

However, this is a different with my fiction writing where I take a more structured approach, which was very evident in how I prepared for the Write It Fellowship. More about this on my next blog post, reflecting on my other writing endeavours!

Bubbles Update Blog (And Happy Holidays from Christoast!)

Tis the season… to get an update on a poetry collection!

Originally scheduled to release this weekend, ‘Stagnation’ the concluding poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection and my commitment to writing an article for Envie took some time cleaning up the publication! However, it is almost complete and will be released on the 27th of December for everyone who donated to the ‘Pen to Paper’ Challenge and for everyone who donated to Extra Life 24 Hour Fundraiser !

If you are interested in obtaining a copy, you can find out more information about Bubbles here!

tl;dr, the collection will only be available during fundraiser events where I am raising money for an NGO-Orginisation or for purposes of social movements. If 2019 is any track record, this will be possibly twice a year! Keep up to date with my publications and events on my social medias here:

It has been an amazing year and I have loved keeping this blog up and running! Thank you to everyone and have a some happy holidays! I hope you enjoy celebrating this time with people that mean a lot to you!

Near future:

  • Two more blog posts by the end of the year. The first will be to talk about Bubbles when it is released and the second one will be a reflection on the year in terms of writing (inc. Autumn, That Bastard and other projects) for this blog/website.
  • In the early new year, expect an update post about future plans for the website and my own projects.

See you soon!

Stagnation

Website Version Here

By Christos Floratos

It is that time, again.

To wait for it to all end.

This waiting is a crux –

A crutch and a lux,

Spread thin over the fortnight’s influx.

 

This money system has left me bitter,

A tea that has long overstayed.

Corrupted green that has mixed with the soil,

Auburn turns black to brown, to a prodded boil,

Where the honey at the end would always spoil.

 

I am curious to their appraisals,

That my life is through a proverbial spring.

I may have all the bricks lined on the frontier,

But I confess, it is not yet veneer.

Stagnation has taken my masonry’s finest, oh dear.

 

It is all an arbitrary collection of bricks and stones,

For Autumn and Spring don’t exist.

It is the eternal summers and winters I chase.

For even though those bricks are lined, houses are placed

No residence could save me from ash encase.

 

No, I am most definitely in the fall.

Yet defiantly, death and dying is not what I feel.

I am warmed by the sun’s rays and adore the hearth.

Though daises are no longer pushing a girth,

This uncertainty is what lulls me to the earth.

 

I don’t dread Autumn, for it is going,

But because I know it will arrive again.

White horse with black hooves trampling the ground

And there is discovery in it yet against the sound.

For waiting has christened my crown.

 

Nothingness has become my favourite companion.

It is they, that lonesome path to permanence.

At the end nought could be done to amend

Except for you, reader, who has provided an ear on lend.

Perhaps the wait will be indefinite – these words need to be tend.

 

Autumn will be that bastard.

And we will never be through.

We will remain along this cursed line

These cheap words and rhymes, they will be just fine.

These horrible thoughts will be paid through the halt of a lifeline.

© Christos Floratos 2019

Stagnation – Sneak Peek

The concluding poem for the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection comes out this Friday!

Stagnation, like the wait/hiatus from the penultimate poem, is meant to capture the feelings of indefinite waiting and down trodden celebrations.

Christoast Update – Honours, Poetry, Future and More! (Spooky Month Update)

It has been a hot minute since I’ve made a blog post, but boy has there been a lot going on in the last few months!

A poetry update:

  • Stagnation, the last poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection will be posted in November.
  • Bubbles, the poetry collection coming out of Pen to Paper, will be finalised and released during November.

Currently what has eaten my time at university has been my honours project. While doing this research project, I am also completing my regular social work degree which as given me limited time for this website and my writing interests. However, there has been interesting strides and currently working on an Ethics Application to conduct the study. The project is about ‘Social work students’ views towards same-sex parenting’ and is a very interesting space indeed!

Another commitment I have started working on related to my university degree is a project for Rainbow Families where we are aiming to express the voices of children of LGBTQI+ parents, in a creative booklet form.

If you follow my twitter, you may see my Dungeons and Dragons is still going strong, with my Homegame now on Session 45. You can check out the wiki I’ve got going for it here.

Road Ahead:

I finish this semester this week and will dedicate more time to my other writing endeavours.

  • Towards the end of November, I will be doing Extra Life once again, the 24 hour live stream charity to raise funds for sick children. All you need to do to support me is to visit the stream, share with your friends and if you are financially able to, support my fundraising efforts!
  • Another writing project after ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ is finished and all Authors Comment sections are done!

And there is still plenty more after that! So stay tuned by following this blog and following my social media below.

Sneak Peek: The Apocalypse Cometh

The Penultimate Poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection. What do you imagine when you think of the end of the world? This poem is a rejection of some traditional concepts of the Apocalypse.

Full Poem is Out This Friday!

With Comfort and Ease (Poem)

By Christos Floratos

Website Version Here

 

How can you tell a gymnast to be careful?

Why, anything but danger would be a little dull.

Scamper up the rope, dribble the pole.

 

Feet ahead; toes curled ready for embrace

              (against the dirt blue).

Performance is our virtue; love is what they grimace.

 

What other purpose is the thrill than to be

Higher than God.

Mt. Olympus has dazed us with aromatherapy.

Oracles scatter seizing our souls.

 

We only commune with the Deadly Seven.

I do not expect the proletariat to understand.

What you share is a pillow,

My offering is more than a simple piggy-bank.

Our stake is within the riptide, wherever it may take us.

 

Perhaps through the vast oceans where the unknown lies;

 we lie.

Though we may ask above, what is below we may never know.

Throw away deaf ears for those bona fide will confide.

 

 

Don’t be afraid to gleam into the light above.

The water is our bed so scream into the pillow.

Vulnerability is our right swipe, fitting as a glove.

 

Though we are frightened of how it leaks,

I trust whatever agenda we both hide,

is so we can dance along the strings of mystiques,

for our skin may be as tough as hide,

and I do not fear the nails of Dominique.

 

Expectation is their gospel verse.

 

We won’t follow their structures laid before.

Abandon the billboards! Dust off their seeds.

A tight hand is laxer than an open casket.

Where we can laugh at our demise,

Sing obtusely and while impulse drives you up.

Sweet Fervour.

Why be afraid of daises, watch me grab them.

© Christos Floratos 2019