Tag Archives: Photography

Quanti passi

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Sunday poems are dedicated to Italian Poetry

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quante volte e quanti
passi con il cuore greve
ho calcato su questa sabbia
dura mi sono avventurata

le volte le ho dimenticate
tornano come sogni
alla memoria familiari
ma poco distinte

quante volte questi
fendenti al cuore mi
troveranno in piedi
questi colpi ripetuti

con insistenza mentre
io continuo a credere

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Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.

Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!

 

 

La mia vita

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Sundays are dedicated to Italian Poetry

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potessi passare
la mia vita

sotto l’ombra di
un fungo matto

sbrigando serenamente
le mie faccende quotidiane

nutrendo anime mentre
attendo il sussurro

della morte che si
avvicina come il vento

tra le foglie in alto

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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

 

La fine della storia

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January Sundays are dedicated to Italian Poetry

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ci sono luoghi
in cui si ricamano
sogni un passo

alla volta percorsi
pensati non ancora
accaduti ricami

che si possono riporre
come in un cassetto
per non pungersi più

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Photo by Anna Mosca

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Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.

Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!

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I Pick Up Words

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I pick up words
as small daisies
on a spring field

careful to hold them
in small bunches
never as beautiful

as when first spotted
a memory of wonder
blushing as they close

around their meaning
covering the heart
shy of a truth near

enough for our dull spirit

to remember a note
or two

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This poem is in the first volume of the “California Notebooks”. If you wish to get your own copy  click here

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A Hint Of Poetry

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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

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This poem is part of the collection, available on Amazon, California Notebooks 02  

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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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Love Is Reverence

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I have worn shoes
covered with trails

dust sticking loud
louder than my long

path of silence I
have asked to see

the way I could tread
barefoot as in a dream

where roads aren’t
hard where people

say without speaking
love is reverence

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