Philip Hasouris
Click on the "Archive" button above to return to the Features archives
Philip Hasouris has been writing for many years. Like many poets, he began unsure of his words, kept them hidden in notebooks, draws, closets, always in the back of his mind. Started reading publicly, and eventually people started listening. Since then, he has taken every opportunity to share the words.
He has been featured at many local and national venues. He was a founder of the performance group "Spiritous" which combined poetry, music, and movement. He has performed with a variety of musicians in improvisational jazz/poetry, collaborated in the making of the C.D’s Dreams and Schemes, Cross The Double Line", Published Chapbook “Swimming Alone”. Anthologies: Poet Tribe Selected Poems and City Lights with fellow poet James G.H. Moore, Philip co-produced the poetry video series P.L.A.C.E.S. (Poetic Language Artful Communication Elemental Speech) filming poets in their homes, creative space, natural surroundings, giving the audience a virtual tour of the inner workings of poetry, Philip is the co-host of the Brockton Library Poetry Series.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Old Man In The Mountain
Caitlin my flesh looks around
anticipates, eyes wide,
tell her we are going to see
"The old man in the mountain"
rock face wall
with his jutted jaw
cheeks smooth as glass years slide off
eyes hold wise
his immortality.
Family walks path
We are young, strong...
our immortality.
Caitlin stops short our chain reaction tumble
points "Is that him'?"
Is that the old man in the mountain"?
Sandals under black socks rise over
vein blue water rush
jaw sinks,
skin sags,
sparse gravel hair,
his gate rusted.
Her words echo over cavernous walls
a pebble thrown into stream of our conscience
rippling "is that him"
our nervous smiles
our lips pout shhhh.
to her innocence.
Old man stone faced.
We recall old man at family gathering
remember when we were immortal.
My hand writes this message in my bottled up memories
older in my travels
shakier in my sorrow.
The old man slid off his mountain
surrendering rock face in the mourning of his mortality
I look in my daughters eyes and see his wisdom.
© 2008-2009 Greater Brockton Society for Poetry and the Arts, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Sharpfocus Media Services Website Design by Arnold Danielson
