Paris Mexis
an author

collection of poems commissioned by Beetroot

published by MANGEL-WURZEL



"The Cyclops"

I have one eye


Although it looks at everything

It captures only what I wish


My eye sees the important even when it's hidden from plain view
Or in plain view


My eye re-creates what it looks


My eye thinks


Sometimes my eye brings fear
So I have to pretend I am not looking
To really see


But I only pretend
I can never stop seeing

I see best

When I know what I am looking for


I see worse
When I know what I am looking at


My eye remembers everything that it has ever seen
And my gaze grows


My sight grows on me


And I grow around my eye













©2011 Paris Mexis

"The Stymphalian Birds"


I am many


I breed and multiply in order to exist
In order to make


I grow in numbers
I grow in hands
I grow in minds


I am a team
I am a family


My nest is the world I thrive upon


I explore by foot, wing and thought


I create by challenging

First myself
Second my flock

If I still stand


I am ready to take the winds






















©2011 Paris Mexis

"The Minotaur"


I trip in darkness waiting for an idea

Waiting for the idea


I walk in a limited labyrinth

My deadline is set

And although I have traveled these dark corridors again and again

My path is always new


I am stronger than my maze.
If in need, I will break a wall and make a new path

This maze made for me
Is also made by me


The labyrinth is mine
I am its master


When the idea comes I will seize to exist

Light will be spread to the maze
And the twirls and turns of its halls
Will become a straight line

The journey
The intellect
The effort

Of The monster

Will merge with the idea


And few will be able to perceive
That before the idea
There was darkness


A labyrinth


And a monster










©2011 Paris Mexis


We may not exist


We are the fleeting visions
Of the new possible


Noisy, crude and ugly


We are the monsters in your head


We are your monsters











©2011 Paris Mexis




Lightning fast




I care not
For lands, oceans, or borders


I roam the ether


Many have marveled


My wonderful mane
My perfect hooves
My fast striding

But only a hero

A Bellerophon

Can feel my wings

And fly me to brilliance




















©2012 Paris Mexis


I see
Even when I miss my eye


I think
Even when I rest


I make
Even when I follow


I am alert


My kin becomes me
Until I become my kin


Until my turn







©2012 Paris Mexis

(the message)

Heroes tell of my transformations

To matter
And plasma


To stay ellusive


But I transform

Only to be seized


I can be only in captivity


I am the thought
Behind the action


Look at me shift

I shift again
And again
And again






I am always the same















©2012 Paris Mexis

(creative mistake)

You craved to give birth to a God
But all you delivered was a Monster




It stands on its feet
It is strong
It thinks
It smiles at you


The Monster



A God








©2012 Paris Mexis



Sentinel of the Truth


I watch


The before
The now
The after


My work ceases time


And when the anxiety
Comes to an end


Harmony remains








©2012 Paris Mexis

(the unexpected)

The steed is rested
The charioteer is experienced
The track is known


The unexpected rejoices
Preparing its attack


The charioteer's skills shall be assessed


By the hand's strength
By the mind's clarity


But above all


By the smile
That tames "the unexpected"


This chariot race
Has just become exciting!



©2012 Paris Mexis






With my eyes fixed
On the flames


I await
The new










©2012 Paris Mexis


My body
Possesses a hundred arms


My shoulders
Hold fifty heads


I can accomplish
Τhe impossible


I can manage
The unfeasible


I am unstopped

They call me a monster


Not for my hundred hands
Nor for my fifty heads

But because

I can control them


















©2012 Paris Mexis


Many are
The occasions


Where a mask is required
To appeal


A mask like Karkho's
Whose horror frightens the young


Or that of theOphiotaurus
Combining the odd in one


Pure as the form of the precious Ram


Pan's jesting appearance
Suggesting who I am


Or the fantastic Dragon's
Who keeps our minds unlocked

But when I remove my mask

I am ready to show my truth


More Monstrous than before


More eager than in my youth



















©2012 Paris Mexis

"Scylla and Charybdis"

May the sailing ships



That seldom will they confront
Passageways more difficult
Than ours


May their hulls, be strong
Their men, experienced
Their purpose, certain


Should they wish to reach


The Colchi
And the Ithacas


Of the mind





©2012 Paris Mexis


The beauty of our voice
May drive men insane


As punishment
The beauty
Is turned into a bane


But if you commit to listening
And carefully


The Sirens'Song
May prove to be


More useful
Than it seemed





©2012 Paris Mexis


I watch


The gestures
The glances
The thoughts


Everything interesting
Anything perplexing


I enclose


I immobilize it with my gaze
I caress it like a statue


I study it


From now on


It will always be
Part of my world


©2012 Paris Mexis


They say


That I am both a beauty and a monster


That I am unwilling to accept
My dear brother's death


That I can be soothed with lies


That I am a madwoman


But I am only too aware of the truth


My brother I have buried a thousand times

The reason I wander at the edge of tradition

(I, the last descendant of the Sirens)


And I reveal my naked flesh
To the aspiring seafarers


Is that I wait for those to stand out


Those who are willing to leave behind
The journey that has already been traveled


Those who are ready to challenge
The blind teachings


Those who can draw
Their own course


Those Alexanders, those heroes

Those who are

My living brothers





©2012 Paris Mexis