Posts Tagged With: loneliness

the prayer of the heart


i pick up the phone to talk for free on Sundays/ on the other end of the line there are no other words/ i skim through my phone numbers agenda/ people i forgot about because they did not want me/ my love for the farther and departed ones/ the biblical kin queuing at the same feast/ sharing and multiplying home bread and onions/ and the man paid to soak the sponge in vinegar

it’s a very quiet day it rains as if in empty honeycombs
people come back from the white church with low spires
sharing their umbrellas

i stick my fingertips to the soil from the pot with a green plant/ i disconnect myself/ i discharge my electricity/ i try to fix the soles of my feet on the floor/ to equilibrate my soul between the two lungs/ this is an exercise without mantras feng shui or ikebana

only a sunflower stays close to the wall like virgin mary in her prayers

Advertisements
Categories: My Poems in 2015 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Rupestrian


my life ends here / on a Sunday’s evening
after the cross and the globe on the church’s steeple became cooler
I have never felt more non-pain non-love non-fear
the asphalt feels empty and dull for my soles / the resounding box lost its echo
I step further asymmetrically / my soul is slanting / I have no better thing to do

than to stare at people right into the whole / the full of them
without any thought
only the shadow of my elbow embraces other shadows
en passant
silhouette after silhouette
Modigliani’s women / Brâncuşi’s magic birds
la dolce morte della luce
everything flows into thoughts / thoughts into other thoughts even Charon’s boat
and right now my lips paralyzed to stop me from proving something

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

imperfect (self)portrait


maybe the years are to blame
the age when withered women keep telling her
she is still young

she has a kitchen and a pantry stuffed with spices
a wardrobe with lavender and soap between bed sheets
even a manicure case for rainy days
in her house the flowers she received as a gift
lose their perfume in about an hour

loneliness nibbles with sharp teeth
pain strikes her head at once
like a rake upon which she stepped by mistake
but she can’t cry out
she stays upright with the front touching the wall counting

how many times she got drunk from bubble dreams
like champagne kept cold under a powerful cork
how many nightmares passed by like quicksilver
in the nights with hidden stars
enclosed afterwards in thermometers
kept in her bosom when she was feverish

she’s counting how many times the present
barks or bites like an old pug
with its tongue out
she travels her fingers upon past prints
covered with a pink watercolor film
she thinks about the future as if it were a collection
of tasteless candies pulling out teeth

she is the lady with a soft colored umbrella in summer
and a raven black one at funerals

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lied for the Moon and the Evening Star


in a lonely woman’s world
each crack in the walls
is a twinge among the ribs
the neighbors’ footsteps
weigh on her chest when she breathes
if rats teem in the basement
cold shivers climb her back

elsewhere a mother breastfeeds and a child cries
in the lonely woman’s house clocks get rusty
barometers and zippers
everything flows
when it rains her body is like a moist biscuit
from supplies hidden in trenches
by future unknown heroes

far from the city walls
the river grinds the stones slowly
in winter under ice
around loneliness the canopy of heaven
closes like a placenta
with veins from blue stars

the woman files her nails into flesh

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Compulsory


they have exiled me
in a city with glass pavements
from my yesterday remained
only expired oxygen
I’m breathing rarely from the depths
like a diver
only through a mask
anyway no one recognize me
neither do I

people carry one sun ball
instead of their heart
they walk on tiptoes
unwinding little by little
entangled threads behind them
forgotten words in the Tower of Babel
feelings in a big kneader

I’m stepping from knot to knot
with naked soles softening
crumpled by too much heat
like newborn wrinkles

I started to talk in my mind
learning the deaf alphabet
my shadow abjured me
she stays hung without tongue
on the Pole Star

not even she can remain here
still and nailed

Categories: My Poems in 2012 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blog at WordPress.com.