Poem by Yannis Angelis

It was back in March 2021, where the 3rd COVID wave was challenging my loneliness in isolation at my small flat in Germany. Already since last year, a collateral benefit of the pandemic was a profound awakening of the artist in me. I am a musician but during the lockdown, I have experienced myself taping into other forms of art creation as well, not so much familiar to me, like making small films, indoors photography, and writing poetry.

No matter how much I was enjoying the virtual gatherings with the various communities that I belong and co-work with, the need for physical contact was there …shouting voiceless. I gave it a voice by writing this poem, inspired by the people in the communities that were accompanying me through various screen meetings, day and night, for a long time the last 2 years. You, my INTAGIO friends, have been part of this new inspiration tribe, the “…weirdos of our time” as I am mentioning them in my poem.

I am sharing it here being so grateful for our past and continuing the journey together, wishing that it could shepherd and accommodate your Gestalting soul into that deep melancholy and unquenchable longing that is imbued with.

An ode to my Warmrades

I am daydreaming

night and day, from dawn to dusk
that defining moment where we stand in front
of each other and a pure power of connection
will pull us into each other’s desirable hugs,

those hugs that break the bones,

that blend our juices of passion for life into the
galactic milk as we pale into the stars, upon we
have made our best wish

And from there,

we witness our tears of gratitude and blessing
sliding down freely from our eyes to the earth
like crystal bugs and worms who fertilize the soil
that is gifting us back the rich ground we stand

I daydream a festival

to manifest the rim, which shapes the container,
which holds the space, where our tribe
blossoms in humanity

… for these and other dreams that light up with
dignity and love and illuminate us … we …

… become the meadow of the crooked trees
interweaving with each other with compassion
and fluidity and serendipity … we …

… the weirdos of our time.

I have …

an unspoken sleepless dream hatching under
the warmness and novelty of our relationship
that we tend tenaciously in front of the campfire
as the night goes by

and I will hold on to the afterglow, I hold on to
the afterglow, and from dusk to dawn I will pray
for the blessing that brought us together.

I am yours and you are mine.

We are the unprotected foolish kids of audacity.

by Yannis Angelis, Digital Learning Mentor & Change Maker