Selected Papers Lìnfera - Edizioni Progetto Cultura
III Edition of the National Poetry Prize
Papers Lìnfera
Ceremony: December 8, 2010 H 11.00
Literary Cafe Palazzo dei Congressi in Rome
The ceremony, presented by Sandro Galantini, Sarano present, in addition to the editor Marco Limits, the Jury (Maria Luisa Spaziani, Dante Maffia, Salvatore Martino, Elio Pecora and Angelo Sagnelli) and the writing of "lìnfera "(Luke Moricone Raieli Roberto, Francesco Lioce, Marcia Antoinette Spinelli and Tiberias).
ISLOMANIA was included in the Anthology 2010
ISLOMANIA
since childhood
I tossed here and there
with a briefcase / Taboo: a small supply of gold, silver and Orichalcum, for the hard times.
Saturnina. Someone heard him but soon learns to be careful.
Sudden enthusiasm mask melancholy
and naturally
step in by the five stones to dalliances.
Without preface
Surprise from a spring storm
Eros pro tempore
suddenly proposes
the Ember multiplied by one hundred.
From the Earth to the Father
with time in a red suitcase
Herbs seeds and steel in a whisper: quenching the soul.
From top gallery down the proscenium
I wiped my eyes
And among its stones for healing, I choose the carnelian
The second movement
In him m'incentro
his speech
its done
I belong
so deeply
so it looks like
II MOVEMENT
strokes 'love
wound in his vital center
My soul doth
Here on earth every path
ended
and full enjoyment
is preparing the final vision
divine.
Now this is the enjoyment
that was enough
But your eyes (or just blink)
gives me
the highest grace
and you're
my sweet
single thought.
's so strong Good
and yet so similar to paradise
promise that any further
of paradise is vain.
III MOVEMENT
sinks into your embrace
abysmal-sweetness-
the passionate story
you in me
wonder incredulous bystanders
not intend (the intellect)
do not know (from experience)
say are the usual exaggerated
A I answer all
that won it all temptation
and who are faithful.
One evening I go wandering
In the vacuum
City
Sola
Theatre. I'm cold sleep. Tiny foyer. Red velvet on the walls.
The room is full, a dozen spectators.
An angel in her white tutu is sleeping on a perch
blond curls, standing marble
One, two, three ectoplasm delusional stage
try Asylum
Borbotta the head of a man in a cage
My heart acquiesce in limbo
Crowds and happily foreign
everything.
Review in mind:
while traveling
He makes you believe that I have never existed
The misleading and there is elegance.
day school for two days straight.
Barattano dreams
you: clerical suit heels of last season
fish-gang-
helps him: no one, I am free
and lonely, come, Get down
we just
like Adam and Eve
deception ever
Begemot Instead, guards
and despite the most beautiful jump on the bed.
After a sleepless night
E 'in front of me contrite: looking down: I'm ashamed
deception of Cadenza
Way to step
ganglia of the right hand hurt me
stretch is by dint of sganascioni
Everything passes
But meanwhile, I scan the sky for the comet.
As Typhoon I have a heart sun
for my hundred heads.
more patients Atlas
I shouldered our history.
Or should I leave you in Naxos?
Sibilla O tidings ... If you can, because the stubborn reminders?
I feed your pain.
turns to gold
yours and my sorrows.
But that's okay.
and terrible nightmare would
wake up in the middle of the play
and discover the elegance, he and Begemot
are interpreted by the same actor
that bears my name.
Magic Lantern Techno
I sold the jewels you gave me
and I bought a PC
running around my avatar
black wings - a whip
lace on the bust
boots
discussed everywhere
in each language
draws on the sky.
Love wears a mask
nail lacquer is
crosses the sword to me
bowing to every whim
reveals
still waiting for the right punishment
at the altar
where sitting on a bench-to-purple polyester
not worthy of a look
Time is made to forget.
Yet insomnia increases.
The alleged child
pounds with fatigue
beg mercy
between the lashes of sleep
talkative trucks
a doll
operation in trade
and then at the last minute
decide
acrobatic crossing
the clouds.
your eyes open I see the "Garden of the Gods".
Thoughtful
front of the blackboard
complicated trigonometric calculations
stroke, shooting a shot sponge.
After the troubles of the heart
the malaise does not pass. And so I dream chasing. High as mountains.
is drawn the bright prognosis: severe affliction of the soul,
congenita.
Do a lap, trying to spatriare ...
And I'm going to Santorini,
because it has always
I feel good only on the islands.
But even there the numbers do
not eat and I make love day and night.
I'm fine, but
is just too much power
here are happy-as-a rare thing I'm happy to Capri, Stromboli, Saint-Martin (Caribbean, the smallest island in the world).
A fisherman tells me that
an unwitting descendant of Atlantis, the lost homeland ...
I?
Mh. Well, true that there are always waiting
enough to feel even more stupid since I spend my time looking at the stars
with the certainty that sooner or later someone will come to recover.
Meanwhile
every morning
wearing the white robe and
with the same love , the same passion
create tiny gold fish
silver Orichalcum and (yes, the stock of my briefcase / taboo)
alike of Colonel Buendìa
or mythical Penelopé
yes, dissolve and undo the evening
forging what day
also leave us in business
but now I laugh and is the greatest gain.
Ah, not really dying, like a phoenix-
how many times we have to sing the dirge, the paean
and screaming for The first gulp of oxygen
daily
the same hole and never resurface
and never get wet in the same water
daily
until the sweet ecstasy
calls us down
the depths
where the coral is more red
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