*
.
we are here
softly abandoned
.
glaring at the shadow of
an airplane on the ground
.
one of those luminous day
where every detail is out
.
for count and thanksgiving
following a time dark as
.
the night upon which we
both struggled with
.
eyes wide open to
no avail in fear
.
.
,
*
I load on beauty
between silences
those of plants and
lack of rain
these shivering
when reefers come
are not gossip or loud
news they are stanzas
needing spaces
in between needing
solid whites an invisible
bench to sit on
…
.
.
This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02
.
Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
alcune poesie
vagheggiano d’essere
giardini o meglio ancora laghi
racchiusi e sicuri
ideali per meditare
perfetti per lasciarsi andare
dove persino il silenzio
è circospetto prezioso
accoglie e anche
esclude il tempo
come un palpito
trattenuto
tra le mani
.
.
.
Poesia tratta dal libro “California Notebook” in vendita da Feltrinelli, per avere la vostra copia cliccate qui
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie sono in italiano.
Tuesdays posts will be in English as usual
.
*
time leaving
traces everywhere
victims never
to be avenged
time cannot
be hold it can
be classified
never arrested
and if doing some
serious thinking
we last but the
length of a breath
time shows itself
and swiftly go
.
This poem is part of the bilingual poetry collection California Notebooks 01 on sale on Amazon.
.
*
I’ve seen rain
stepping on the sea
incessantly tapping
not able to carve
ancient holes
as on rocks
because it
was welcomed
it was welcome
.
.
This poem is part of the bilingual poetry collection California Notebooks 01 on sale on Amazon.
*
why not marvel
at the thin long beak
of the firecrest
.
or cry tears realizing
such songs
came from a thumb
size chest
.
he fit the mouth
of my cat
so little it was this
bundle of joy
.
covering the sky
among trees
with his wings
soft in my palm now
.
.
.
Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
come goccia d’olio
trattenuta dall’acqua
mi estendo piano
impercettibilmente
–
lentamente pascolo
l’anima accudita
cresce alta
eterea
.
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie sono in italiano.
Tuesdays posts will be in English as usual.
.
*
eternity roams
inside me I can’t
help but travel
forever wondering
the mind and space
on earth as in dreams
seeking some order
chasing the waters
harmony to fill me
deep from the inside
to make me a lake
alas at home
.
.
This poem is part of the bilingual poetry collection California Notebooks 01 on sale on Amazon. If you wish you can read the Italian version on the post previous to this one titled Armonia.
Sunday posts are dedicated to Italian poetry
*
l’eternità vaga
dentro me non posso
che viaggiare
perlustro senza sosta
la mente e lo spazio
sulla terra e nei sogni
cerco un ordine
inseguo le acque
l’armonia che riempie
a fondo da dentro
per farmi lago
alas a casa
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!
Questa poesia è parte della collezione bilingue California Notebooks
Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
*
to be me
the one I’m
inside immune
to time and places
to recognize the one I
ought to welcome with love
.
.
.
Yep, today is my birthday!
.
Happy New Year, Happy New Life!
*
I wish no one
to die without a hint
of poetry
a hue of love
compassion or
passion
I wish you
all the urge to cross
over this
threshold
while in your home
a nice skin
seeking a touch
from heaven to come
.
.
.
.
This poem is part of the poetic collection, available on Amazon, California Notebooks 02
*
le mie poesie sono
su misura hanno orli
che definiscono le
forme e finali che
calzano l’iridescenza
nella quale si muovono
.
.
.
*
I wish I had not
the compulsion
of changing words
around of giving them
new shapes new
sounds I wish I
just could see
you the word
.
.
.
Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
il freddo mi àncora
alle parole del cuore
precise scalfiscono
le pause della goccia
che fugge il rubinetto
intervalli ben scanditi
il respiro teme nascosto
le verità che affiorano
tra i colpi in sincrono
.
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!
Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
.
*
I do not comb my hair
messed up by sleep nor
my thoughts tangled
.
I don’t follow others’ words
my dreams hold me down
I stumble among slow steps
.
.
.
