Il vento fa il suo giro

Che cos'eri per me?
Un eco presente sempre
Con la stessa domanda
Mi lascia ancora così
Come rupe che sgretola giu'
Pietruzze che raccoglierei
Per tornarle alla montagna
Lei frana ma non smuove
In terribile allerta
Risuona il tuo nome

Has this word an effect?
Or has it only a cause?
What was it  before you were,
and to what purpose?
I don't know.
Do you anytime long for the Infinite?
Grab your mobile phone.
Give peace to your excitement.
You dog with no name.

Angel is a scheme not a figure
Stay connected, there where you are
You look and say :
"How is it that  I don't know any of these things ?"
Radical, no pity, no prisoners,
be you, but not the way  you see in the mirror.
Build a language of your own.

"Vicino e' solo il Dentro;
l'altro e' lontano."

L'Isola III
Rainer Maria Rilke

Al Mare (Maciarea)

Somewhere, here
There, with you
Marenostrum
Fai il nodo
Sciogli il nodo
Ecco come lasci
Il molo
Qualche dopo
Infinito
Sempre
Here.

The Truth of a lie

Othello lives every time for  three hours, in front of us.
And then he dies, along with the others.


"Why all this fuss?"
 and in the end I got my way through.
Othello tells the story of a way of being, the one of "sympathy with the world", confronting itself with a another way of being, the one of  "thinking the world".
It is  the battle between the Heart and the Mind. The Mind wins. That's the Tragedy.
Othello is happy. Othello loves. Othello fights and wins with no hate. Othello is true. Othello offers a hand-chief as a token of trust in life upon death.
His hand-chief, symbol to his endangered way of being,  is at the core of the battle against his opposite, Jago.
Jago is angry. Jago is hungry for something he doesn't even know. Jago lies. Jago is a mind  able to build a conjure, to mould events and even Nature itself in order to achieve what he wants to prove: Showing the World the real nature of a man.
His tool is doubt. It is  a hand-chief.
The token, the magic, the same that has not needed any prove so far, now is the evidence itself.
Doubt is the tool.
Othello starts doubting, and what makes him despair is the doubt itself; the awareness that doubt can be dissolved only and only by truth.
 Othello despairs and knows that truth cannot be proven. Mind can only prove what one thinks.
Like in science,  you have to falsify in order to prove your hypothesis.
 And there we are, finally, the Truth.
Falsified, revealed to the heart that can no more hold it.

"Che senso ha parlare di generi quando ci si muove nella prospettiva dell'infinito?..i generi della poesia sono tanti quanti sono i poeti. Non sono i generi a dare i poeti ma i poeti che generano l'uomo."
La filosofia come biografia, il mondo visto dall'infinito secondo Giordano Bruno. 
Finalmente liberata da inutili complessi creativi.

Bologna maggio 2013, amico Andrea

Dimentico sempre le mie cose
e gli oggetti che
abbandonati su mezzi di trasporto
fanno viaggi di andata e ritorno
custoditi da autisti premurosi
bigliettai zelanti
capitreno eleganti.

Cose mie, vi amo sempre un po' di piu'
quando ritornate a me , di nuovo miei
non piu' oggetti smarriti,
da distanze kilometriche,
come vecchi amici.

the secret of a flower

I would like to be a rose
and like her resting on a side
offering the inner pleasure
of showering my guests
with ever different aromas
in the early summer
of a warm afternoon

I lived long enough to see the difference between being cool and being inspired, being popular and being influential, being original and being true.
Personally, I don't care about all this anymore.

Bambini,
che lavoro ostinato chiedete al poeta ogni giorno
perche' protegga quella scarpa scordata di fretta
da uomo, ma col tacco!
generosa e' la vostra terra
che si mostra solo a chi si prova incosciente
che porta il chiocciare di galline grasse
e sentieri dove crescono i fiori.
Ai giardini stanno guardiani di latta.

The Nephilim were on  the Earth at that time (and also immediately afterward), when those divine beings were having sexual relations with those human women, who gave birth to children of them.
These children became the heroes and the legendary figures of ancient times.

Genesis 9_4, International Standard Version

Gubbio, Aprile 2013

Il lupo non e' Francesco,

e' soltanto suo fratello

e potremmo mai dire alla torre "vola!"

o agli uccelli "girate in tondo"?

Ecco io sento

la fine del tempo

 prima del balzo,

preda di fuga

respirando l'aria di un'alcova non salva,

con la schiena esposta,

prima del tempo, ora.