Heraklion

Nikos Kazandzakis Airport - Heraklion.
The Abu Graib of all departure lounges.
torture at the best of times.
Holiday over, back to earth we go
to all the grim reality
of worry stress and woe

Hordes of British tourists in their unbecoming dress.
paging through the Sun, the Mail the Mirror and Express
printed sheets of useless un-informative dross
see them catching up with all the latest on the gossip
it's the same old sorry story,
England's faded glory
no surprises, nothing new
just a running commentary on who is F**KING who
red top reminders of salacious seeking prurience
tabloid Grand Britannia.
a dispiriting experience
maybe I should switch the flight to one that lands in Chania


Not a seat to spare.
Floor space only and hardly even that.
ah, but over there, a step on a stair
will have to do, though I'd much prefer
the comfort of a nice relaxing pew

But oh well, never mind
for what is really on my mind
is the mobile phone I left behind
containing all the contacts that I fear I'll never find
again

and if that were not enough
I'm feeling really rough
from the Cretan hospitality
a night’s geniality
of dubious morality
yes, say no more,
We've both been there before
I haven't changed that much
I still enjoy the thrill of a strangers touch
Don’t you?

the night before departure
Dionysus the bacchanal and Eros the archer
had sent me off in classic style
A night on the tiles
they'd kept me up and wide awake
til the sound of cicadas had ushered in the break
of dawn as she rose with her fingers pink
by which time I fear
I'd had far too much to drink

So here we are back at Kazantzakis
With a grave sense of dislocation
And a double dose of agitation
cus England is my destination.

But hold on a minute, skip a beat
Check that woman over there with a seat
in the corner.
Niiiiiiice.
Whoops!! She's noticed that I'm looking.
Oh my God, she's looking back.
Look cool. Be careful not to stare.

Maybe now it's safe to take another little peep.
Damn, she's definitely looking at me looking at her now.
Could it mean she fancies me?
surely not
but there she is again, holding the look this time.
A quick glance behind me and beside me
to see if it is me or someone else she's looking at.
No I don't think so. Could it be attraction when I'm least expecting it?
Oh well, that's nice.
Something to fantasize about to help the journey home.

Whoa!! She's coming over.
Surely not to me.
But there she is, she's smiling at me now. .

"Hi" says I, rather sheepishly.
"Hi�, says she, wow
“what are you doing here?
It is you isn't it. I thought it was".

I recognise you, yes, your face is familiar
But who, where, and when,
and did or do I know you well?


Bluffing through the pleasantries and waiting for a clue
I think I've got it now. You look a lot like
Errr yes, you call me Michael
Crete is mentioned and the motorcycle.
now I know with certainty and what a stroke of luck.
for I do remember well, your name.
Not too difficult because I've thought about you on and off
and only very recently in fact.


Now I'm all a fluster, taken by surprise
Tounge tied, paralysed,
I'm captured by the beauty of your effervescent eyes
You say you've been to Bali, or that's what I thought I heard you say,
and I'm thinking you mean the island off the coast of India,
until I get a grip and realise you couldn't possibly be changing planes in Crete.
You've changed. How long has it been? 10 years?
But still you're looking good,
Oh well, I’d better go, they’re calling my flight,

But before I leave the terminal and disappear from site
I sneak a last look before loosing you again
And I think to myself what a shame
it is that we haven't got the time or place
to sneak a proper sexual embrace
just for old time’s sake

Should we swap numbers and addresses
I suggest.we do
You agree, so we do and

I'm in the air and thinking of the times we had together.
wanting to catch up with your news,
wishing you could catch up with mine
Having naughty thoughts on the plane
Wishing I could see you again

action replays.
conjuring up the memories I have of you.
The night it all started at the Paleahora club.
with a dance
Remember Danny who thought he had a chance
With you?
Later on I drove you to a sandy beach
where we gorged on the juices of a ready ripe peach
hah, not literally,
metaphorically I mean, a simile
I'm just trying to make it rhyme with a ‘figure of speech’
You asking me before you left if we could meet again
and did I have a mistress back in England.
a wife yes, but was there any other
could I be your lover
Ah, what a good and welcome question that was.

And so began a regular affair
London B & B's. I don't recall exactly where
but surreptitiously we met
then a memorable moment which I'll never forget,
a red datsun I think it was,
parked up late at night somewhere
beside the river Thames.
I can still picture your ravaging beauty.
The two of us were savaging each other in the passenger seat
You wouldn't believe how many times I have replayed that moment
in my fantasies
A frantic search for some privacy
a risky spot behind a garden hedge,
somewhere off Sloane square remember?
On a cold November night
with nowhere else to go
crouching low
trying to keep out of sight
God I felt so horny that night

Then finally a telephone call that brought it to an end.
you told me you had a new boyfriend
Yep ok. that's cool. I understood. and good for you.
I suppose it had to happen in the end
I could hardly protest,
So I wished you all the best.
And that was it. We parted company.
thanks for the memories.
End of story, or so I thought.

Isn't it strange that we should meet again in Crete.
and how bizarre it is that as I grieved
the loss of friends and contacts I may never yet retrieve
that fate should bring me into contact with
a friend I thought I'd lost, a lover I'd believed
that I would never see again.

This is just marvelous, marvelous, marvelous!

Brilliant!

I suppose I could stay if you would promise to stay too, and write more magnificently detailed, absorbingly delicious things like this. As my friend Hey Hey always says, "more, please."

Thank you so much for creating and sharing this. It is utterly delectable. I will read it again in a few hours, after I have rested and gone for a coffee... I will try to gather myself... I hope I'm not going to get fired... things become curiouser and curiouser hereabouts.

In any case, wherever I am, I will always enjoy reading things like this.

I am so glad you enjoyed it. My own view is that it's ok but not that great. What I would like you to read though, if you haven't already, is Fantasy Escaping in the erotic board. I think it is by far the best thing I have written, and I'm rather disappointed that it's going unrecognised.

Yes I'll stay, but I have to say, I am getting a little too obsessed with this site, and not getting on with the many things I have to do.

Yes, I quite understand what you mean, and I must get up there and read the poem of which you speak. I seldom venture there, actually! But I must; I want to read your poem. I'm afraid I must rest a bit now though, before. I am really exhausted, old and frail and worn thin with the years. The coffeehouse will open in an hour; I will lie down and then go and get a coffee. I will try to do a good job here. I hope I don't get the boot. I have felt so hung out to dry of late... Perhaps I have just worked so hard so long for so little that I am taken for granted; that's what people tell me, anyway... I suppose I have been a doormat. Bother!

Oh well, I will rest and read your poem later. Thank you for being so kind to me, and for your encouragement about my own poor sonnets.

I am planning a very happy surprise for Silke very soon; we will be working on it this week. I am terrible at keeping secrets, but I must.

Maybe the flamer won't come back. Maybe my crack zappers will get to her vitriol and bile before Silke sees it. Maybe Shawn will forgive me for my feeling he hung me out to dry, if he didn't; if he did, maybe he will be sorry about it.

Maybe I can be happy here again. I wish it could be so! And I think some might miss me, too, like dear Hey Hey.

It is a very nice poem,and since im from Greece it strikes a Great chord in me....

Keep up the good work ,i like storylike poems!