Poetry, my

Together with the main subject of my blog, I would like to keep a second space for sharing the poems I delight in writing.

As much as I do enjoy writing short stories in Italian, I couldn’t find myself doing it in English. As well I have tried to translate what I’ve already written, but still something was missing. Then, one day, I started to write poems. In English. Just out of the blue, as words were flowing out.

I love music, I am addicted to it. And I love the sound of words, to play with them, to compose my personal symphony. And here we go.

They will get more and more. Stay tuned.

 


Prayer for rain

Collision

Seesaw

I crash on you like (Lòstage)

The lightness of being me

Untitled n.4 (The ease of deceiving)

Sideways

Foscolo remembrances

A song I composed for Alice

Senseless joy

Untiled n.some

In between/among

Love apparatus


 

Prayer for rain

Little Lilith smelling honey
Come adorn our empty noses
They could be filled with roses
But they fancy only money.
Come and shine my little honey
Put a barricade, haste and wonders
We want be something besonders
Come and save the little donee.

Besonders: from German, particularly, especially.

 

Collision

Shaking hands as a symbol of dignity
and gravity
levitates us like stones on the snow,
your heart split, mine
fit.

 

Seesaw

So, please,
If you weigh more than me
Just come fore
And sit on here.

 

I crash on you like (Lòstage)

I crash on you like porcelain
on the ground. I fall to pieces,
each of them with a story to tell.
Where to begin?
The monster with hundreds eyes?
The meal I ate yesterday?
A carillon plays in my head,
constantly, repeatedly.
I lose myself in it
I lose myself in you.
Magical mantra,
tangible tantra.
And then you take me down to Earth, and
I can just feel alien to the earth
you want to share.
And then I close my eyes
And the only thing I can see
Is the light pale through my skin.
I crash on you like a car crash dummy on the dashboard:
low damage, epic impact.

 

The lightness of being me

I give you my spine
Oh, so divine
in the falling day
reminding the gates.
I dare a gun
pointed at you
only to feel the fun
of beating the truth.
A stop-motion capture
for this lonely rapture
breaking the law
of mother, that haw
thrilling restraints
for all the cocaine
for all the pills
down the hills.
Please make a sound
the magnet inverted,
now am assertive.

 

Untitled n.4 (The ease of deceiving)

Missiles your lies
bombing my naivety,
a sense of infinity;
they wear a suit, and ties.
Then silence remains
like dozen trains,
like pollen and seeds
breeds.

 

Sideways

I stand here, bare in front of you,
and you are the one tasting
the shame.
I stand here, in front of You,
competing with angels and saints from different beliefs;
and the only thing I can feel
is eyes on my pale, naked skin.

 

Foscolo remembrances

Eternal loneliness in a vortex of life
you want the middle, you stand in line,
grasping parts and hearts
blasting hearts in parts
hiding with no seek
and still trying to find the bricks,
is it a mess, or the mess is fix?

Come to me sweet sensation
I need your careless inclination,
a pathway juggling on the crest,
I have you on my right,
I need you on my left.

The eternal nothingless:
for reason is a massacre
or the only way to feel
free.

 

A song I composed for Alice

I don´t know-
I was caught in a dream!
A dream with red hair and brown eyes,
which left me shell-less, all the time.
A dream that
all the dreams come true!
Yet the rhythm, don´t know, the rythm is
blue.

A song I composed for Alice,
to tell her “I love you,
I have no fear”.
Notwithstanding I am
pretending.

A song I composed for Alice

…or was it me the
last addressee?

 

Senseless joy

Hits me like the pain
after a rocambolesque fall,
unexpected as the sweet delight
of bleeding the feeling out of the skin.
In a reversed way:
pain can be joy,
joy doesn’t change  –itself –
route
And
–by the way–
who has decided there’s a
need of cause
for the consequence of laugh?
Why should there be a reason for
a heart to scream
its lightness of being?

 

Untitled n.some

Stuck is the only path
allowed for a heart
full on in glance
losing the ba-lance.

 

In between/among

I am avid of trying,
I want some thing, then more;
living my odyssey thirsty and hungry,
learning from scratches the road.
Most say you should settle,
your dreams are dreams,
it’s time to give up.
But as I stare at my reflection
the image is faded, as
I’m moving aside.
A Cancer inside.
And then I mould myself,
but the shape is amorphous
it has no profile.
Lucky bitch, it’s genial!
I should be me, to
feel fine.
And so I do,
breaking my neck,
toasting my toes;
but preserving my love
overall;
a love that had a shape
I couldn’t take;
yet the shape was matching
with the need of my compass.

 

Still I’m glad to have let you free
from this eternal bumblebee,
still I’m glad to be free
to be the eternal bumblebee.

 

Love apparatus

I cannot even define
the spell your lips had
poured into my body;
yet winters pass
and you are still the first flake
to come

-the following, pieces of my heart.

 

Irresponsible organs has this apparatus