*
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
.
.
This poem is included in the bilingual collection California Notebooks 01. Click on the title for info.
*
.
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
.
*
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.
.
*
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
.
.
.
*
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.
*
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
*
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
.
.
.
*
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
.
.
.
*
I press hard
most of the times
my whole
life to go beyond
.
to detach myself
from disappointment
transcending
into the essence
.
.
.
*
the minute
I had to convince you
I was worthy
I should have noted it
was the day it
was over
.
.
.
*
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
.
.
.
..
.
*
poetry falls
as pigment
on wet paper
.
creating
a world
of beauty
.
marveling
at the smooth
escape door
.
.
.
*
just before
I breathed in I was
breathing out
I run to this
place to be with you
you seem aloof
to life or to give
anything out afraid
even to receive
I play with the birds
trills as people rush
home from work
.
.
.
This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02
.
