Author Archives: anna mosca

About anna mosca

Artist, poet, photographer, reader, lover, walker, traveler. Feeling in wilderness. Been writing lots of poetry, taking less pictures, teaching a whole lot, traveling less than usual, loving more than allowed, riding public city bikes and not planes, puzzled over paintings. Beside all those forms I am.

I Dare To Hope April Is The Cruelest

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I knew the hardest

was not being locked in

but the coming out

the count of the missing

ones their blinders

down as you take your

long missed stroll
.

that time has not arrived yet
.

but the count has

started once you get time

at hand the socials

platforms open up some

profiles have black

some tears and weeping

so far is two at day
.

way too high the number

of my friends who are no more

we are still on lock down
.

April is the cruelest month

I dare to strongly hope

.

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Altrove

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Il cielo
non lo scorgevamo

gli occhi
chiusi sul desiderio

sdraiati nel cerchio
misterioso

già odoravamo di pane
occupavamo il tempo

ci riempivamo le mani
di carezze e il corpo

occupato uno con l’altro
credeva d’essere

altrove

.

IMG_5816

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Tratta da Colori Estivi, Giugno 2012.

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Sunny Awakenings

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was dreaming of

sunny awakenings

sweet cuddling and words

few – tight together

.

was getting out to say

good morning – gratitude

will not fail me

a smile in spite

of everything

.

I will hold

happiness

between

my hands

.

.

hipstamaticphoto-607091581.534637

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Esserci (a Pasqua)

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Sundays’ posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry

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esserci
un giorno

dove il suono delle
ali delle farfalle

può essere ascoltato
disteso su un sorriso

vigile ai mutamenti
del mio corpo

stupore della gratitudine
mi incrino un poco

alla volta a vita
più profonda

 

 

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Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano, in quanto ad oggi, Buona Pasqua!
Questa poesia è pubblicata nel libro California Notebooks 02.

A Place To Be

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a place where

is no expectations
from others to be

some kind of perfect
god under sunshine

to relax where

everything in its
natural beauty lines up

me not too big
nor too small

for some people

doors where
my key wasn’t fitting

may be one
of my crazy dreams
.

.

 

2014-02-06 14.13.36

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Reverberations, Unpublished, 2013.

Well Defined

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I will walk away from
the crowds and their buzz
finding an island to float serene
on way away from cravings
looks and strong odors
to my own shadow
well defined

.

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Poem from the unpublished collection Intertextures – Crossing Rivieras, 2013.

 

An Upside Down World

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tonight
the moon is full

emptied from a thousand
engagements I lay in hot
water maybe illuminated

from the sky the silence
repose approaching
hidden from light

an upside down world
a somersault and a wriggle to

find myself wondering star under
inside some lights I turn off
before the thoughts – then the eyes

slightly vibrating
weightless in the space
I found within

 

 

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Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep…

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it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery

as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay

where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder

when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds

.

 

 

I miei passi – Un volo oltre

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se comprendo

che ripercorri

i miei passi

 .

non posso ignorare

il respiro che esce

poco alla volta

 .

trattenuto dopo

un tempo buio

separazioni

 .

boschi attraversati

sulle ginocchia

per vedere meglio

 .

il fondo che non

è mare limpido

cielo capovolto

.

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Poesia tratta da Un volo oltre, 2013.

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Running Uphill – The London Hours

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I will close this page
and put it away

I will have a look
at such light
lingering

I will stand eventually

get up and displace
myself in a busy store
drunk in sounds and souls

I will pick you up
later when this
wind ceases

one more time
running uphill

.

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From the collection “The London Hours”, 2012.

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Give Shapes To Music

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my favorite occupation
has been that of
listening to silence

to give shapes
to music singing
with my hands

on top of the colors
that lay already there
to tiptoe in-love

slowing down
my responses
to evade darkness

into the beauty held
inside as the harmony
viable all around

.

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Poem from California Notebooks 01

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Un po’ di poesia

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Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry

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non voglio
che nessuno muoia senza
un po’ di poesia

un tono
d’amore o compassione
passione

ti auguro
l’urgenza di valicare
questa

soglia
mentre sei nella tua dimora una
bella pelle

desiderando che
arrivi quel tocco dall’alto

.

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2014-06-24 20.12.50

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Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.

Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!

Questa poesia fa parte della nuova opera California Notebooks 02

How Often We Forget

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how often we forget
it is us revolving
around the sun

we sit contemplating
in our living room
the shadows changing

how often we forget
we are mirrors
of others attitudes

we point the finger
pick up a part to act
just impersonating

how often we forget
to simply be a simple
word being thank you

no chats about the sun
moving raising setting
telling ourselves truths

.

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This poem is included in the bilingual collection California Notebooks 01. Click on the title for info.

 

Eyes Wide Open

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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

.

.

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