America and back.
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America
Land of exploitation.
I followed the ancestral migrational path
Traced by my most recent ancestors.
I lived in your cities forgetful
Of their European spirit colonizer.
I walked your streets America
Home of the Wealthy indifferent or philanthropist.
America of the 1%
Beholding the 99% of everything.
America
Land of the equinoctial American dream
Long expired in your rhetoric.
America
Land of the sensible news
Where the public is served
Not only Bologna sandwiches
But also Bologna news.
America land of misery and ignorance
Model of the industrial future
Where many luck health insurance.
America
Land of the gun lobbies
Of the big tobacco
Of the chemical industry, the PCB
And the Texan and Southern politicians.
America
Land of hypocrisy.
America place of my newborn family
I love you.
America land of Abuse
I hate you.
To your shores I landed,
Week and naïve son of the Italian South.
In your land my pride grew
And made me a man
Fed by my unique talent
Enslaved.
America ,
I leave your cold Oceans
I break the antique family bounds
Recovered in New York.
The adventure restarts backward.
Italy
I don't know you anymore
15 years went by from the exodus
People alive
People dead
I understand that everyday
More you resemble this indifferent America.
It's hard
The emigrant's life.
Hard to go
Hard to comeback
Hope it's my drive.
Here I live
There I lived
Will I find
Real honest people? |
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Evolution or demise.
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The Big Bang generated it all, it was thought,
Or alternatively two different Universes collided.
By an unknown act of Necessity
or Case or Creation our Universe was born.
The violent fireball went trough
moments of accelerated then
more restful expansion as supersonic vibrations
imprinted the Embryonic Cosmic Background.
It was only light in the beginning,
then the prodigious event cooled down.
Communication was then possible.
Hydrogen atoms were made,
matter building blocks were born.
The gravitation pull, coalesced
the first stars and galaxies.
Supernovas blasted a spree of heavy elements.
A yellow star Sol, was born with nine planets,
Earth its jewel.
From bacteria to crabs life flourished.
The Hox genes sang with mysterious diversity.
Up the scale, species evolved in a frantic
Cambrian explosion.
Finally we came, in the last minutes man was
born.
Are we self made Maestros the best?
We, the makers, don't evolve anymore.
Soon we'll create our own creators.
Godlike machines will take over the world.
Two hundred years will supersede
two billion years and more
of Darwinian history.
Will our conscience survive
or be put to rest? |
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Magia.
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La magia
Degli anni maturi
Aggiunge spessore all'anima.
L'Esperienza crea
La dura pietra del paragone
Che infrange i sogni giovanili miei
O di quelli che leggo.
Che noia questi soliloqui artistici
Dell'Internet poetica.
Quanta vita vissuta?
La lontananza
Il Lottare
Apre le ali alla sopravvivenza
Il vivo verso di Darwin
La dote ultima
Dell'Anima. |
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A Rossana.
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Un nasino
due trecce
Tre lentiggini,
Un viso furbo
Un sorriso.
Un gatto
un bisticcio
rif, raf, gnaff.
Un graffio
Una lacrima
Un sorriso. |
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Fatica.
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La fatica continua
E' pietra
il sudario indifferente
dell'oppressore.
Sogni di liberta'
Sfarfallano
Distillano
Lacrime amare
che dissetano
la mia sete
di anima impoverita.
Il vento del tormento
passa e fischia
ulula la sua furia.
Rimango
Ignudo
Dolente.
Raccolgo i miei sogni
Cristalli sparsi di dignità
Indipendenza.
Volerò
Andrò via
Sarò vivo.
Non mi avrete! |
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Pasqua.
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Oggi è Pasqua.
Ti sei svegliata presto
come sempre
per l'abitudine scolastica
di ogni giorno.
Hai otto anni
la tua ultima Easter egg hunt.
Oggi è aperta, tutta per te.
Cominci curiosando
nel soggiorno
dove scopri Miss Rabbit,
90 cm di gambe
musetto simpatico, orecchie lunge
pantaloni gialli
vestitino a fiorellini
messa lì da tua madre
per sorpresa.
Ci raggiungi a letto
sei eccitata,
apri i regali,
non possiamo più dormire.
Mi raccomando Daddy
Oggi canto nel coro
vieni a messa!
Ti prometto
la tua Ester egg hunt,
andro' a messa,
ti vedrò cantare.
Nel pomeriggio andremo a pranzo
da zia Barbara,
ci saranno anche zia Jean
e zio Alan.
Prometto
Oggi è tutto per te
Buona Pasqua Isabella.
( Che peccato non ci siano altri bambini ). |
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Poetry.
|
Poetry,
starts young,
ends old. |
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Poeta.
|
Essere poeta
significa esprimere se stessi
nell'arco di una vita.
Poesia è
la coscienza storica
della propria identità. |
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Isabella.
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Isabella
When I play with you and say
I am jealous of you
I would like to be
That child that plays with you,
You are unsure if I fake
Or I do for sure.
I do you know
To let you be
That child that plays with me,
And to teach you the lesson
That playtime
Infancy's delight is
As precious as it is.
So my father taught me
So I teach you. |
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I.
|
I rattle
I scat
I pick
I poke
I lie
I joke
I abuse and I am abused.
I tender
I love
I rime
I write
I defy
I dream
I'll run
I'll survive.
Are you surprised?
I am only YOU! |
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