FREE ART POEMS NEWS
COMUNE DI PIENZA
CENTRO STUDI MARIO LUZI "
RICORDO DEL POETA MARIO LUZI A TRE ANNI DALLA SCOMPARSA
Sabato 1 Marzo 2008 - Sala del
Consiglio Comunale - ore 16,00
Saluto del Sindaco Marco Del Ciondolo
Saluto di Gianni Luzi, figlio
del Poeta
interverranno
Marco Marchi, Annamaria Murdocca,
Giancarlo Quiriconi, Mario Specchio
Al termine della cerimonia verrà
distribuita una plaquette
con una poesia di Mario Luzi a
cura di Paolo Andrea Mettel
in collaborazione con: Parrocchia di Pienza
- Pro-Loco - Fondazione Conservatorio San Carlo Borromeo
· BLOG
La Poesia da
oggi
su Corriere.it
Ogni giorno i
lettori potranno dialogare con Ottavio Rossani su
testi, poeti, critica
DEATH
I am born
Into a home some say God chose for me
Some say I chose for myself
Either way I arrived
A small town before walmart
Before the internet
Before chain stores
I loved that place
the fields of green
the old counter with the candy machines
the buildings with there nails and wood
the smell of time passing by
as the clouds floated by
the time I had to run
to dream to play
my parents didn't believe in the system
so I never went to that institution
that teaches most how to follow orders
they didn't believe in tv
so I didn't watch anything but a movie
now and then I would go to the theater
the small theater with two movies
ran by an old family
it was the simple life
and in the time i found my soul
in the silence and in the space
that wasn't occupied with ads
or billboards or waves frying my brain
and i found the most beautiful place
not in a church
not on a tv
but alone in the silence or with music
dreaming and feelings
when i closed my eyes
i could see anything i
could be anything
nothing was impossible
the world was my canvas
i created my reality
it was MY DREAM
my world MY BODY my life my aspiration my INSPIRATION
my connection to the creator was strong for I was not
INTERRUPTED by a cell phone or an ad or a massive to do list
I was FREE.....
Once you are FREE you always want to be
free
but staying free became a struggle
because as usual people wanted to put me in a box
a box of religion
a box of good and bad
a box of a country
a box of politics
boxes and boxes made to separate us
in order to control us
I mad a choice to rebel
I used my hard head
My stubborn nature
My faith in the spiritual world
To run as fast and as hard as I could
To fight and push against
the boxes the pramaters that people kept telling me
I needed to live in
If you told me to keep my clothing on
I would take them off
If you told me not to use drugs
I would do them all
If you tell me to be afraid
I will laugh
Because in the end fear is my enemy
Not living
Not loving
not drugs
not being naked
not my spirit
My enemy is all these boxes
all these limitations
all this fear
and so I did lots of things
I was told not to
Sometimes to prove a point
Sometimes because I wanted to
Sometimes because I didn't believe it was bad
and Sometimes I got hurt
Sometimes people did things out of fear
that left me bleeding
but I healed
I recovered
I still bleed tears and blood
but I am still living my dream
maybe bruised and bloody
but I am not in a box
I am not limited
my creativity is still expanding
I don't need drugs
My mind can expand without them
I am still fighting to remain free
But in this world they don't want you to create
They don't want you to be free
they don't want you to know its limitless
they don't want you to believe you don't need them
to PROTECT you against the evil terrorist
............................................................................
I have seen more
I have traveled the world
the underworlds
the over-worlds
the in-between worlds
nothing gets in or out without them knowing
I want my freedom
I will keep my freedom
Because my soul needs freedom like air
and freedom is not shopping
freedom is not living in fear of my neighbor
or another country
freedom is not on the news
and if you watch the news you'll end up paranoid and numb
the world was fine without a tv
the world was fine without us fearing each other
we are all going to die
and we are all going to live
don't live in fear of dying or you'll never live
and death can't come till its your time
its a spiritual law
not a religious one
I don't say much these days
but I am watching and listening
to the heart beat of the world
and you have to FIGHT for your freedom
for your soul
turn away
tune out
find space
find silence
find YOUR DREAM
create YOUR REALITY
its YOUR LIFE
your not just supposed to work buy and die
thats not the way it has to be
CREATE YOUR OWN PATH
or don't
but you have to turn away
you have to find space
and turn off the machines
or else they will take all there is of you....
the death of america
will come when we trade in our souls
for machines
Jillian Ann
SHE WOLF
How sing you now, O Sister Wolf
Torn between sweet flesh and tide
To guide the hearts of mortal sons
Or chase across the mountain side
Such craving call for passion
Devours the heart by night
Finds aching in the morning
Soaked in guilt's first light
Cursed within the lust for blood
As fur replaces hair
Will jaws caress or break the lamb ?
A lonely choice to bear
In water lies the truth
As air will feed the dreams
Reflected in the moonlight
Whilst bursting at the seams
How sing you now, O Sister Wolf
Torn between sweet flesh and tide
Trapped within these waking hours
Where you and I have learnt to hide.
Charles Antony
Carissimi - l'editrice Kairòs mi affida la direzione della sua nuova
collana "Le parole della Sybilla"
(poesia e saggistica), che sarà
distribuita con larga diffusione dal prossimo gennaio 2008.
Avrei piacere di inserire anche qualche vostra raccolta di poesie,
per cui vi invito a spedire, in visone, al mio indirizzo personale
(via G. Paisiello 19 - 80128 Napoli) i vostri
testi inediti -
non meno di quaranta pagine e non più di ottanta
pagine,
con una breve nota biobibliografica -.
In attesa della vostra gradita collaborazione, infiniti auguri
Antonio Spagnuolo
In allegato la copertina del primo volume-
_______________________________________
N.B. - Nel rispetto delle leggi sulla privacy chi non desidera
ricevere miei messaggi per il futuro è cortesemente pregato
di inviare una email a spagnuoloantonio@hotmail.com -
con scritto "cancellami" - Grazie !
__________________________________________
PREMIO DI POESIA
ANGELO PINI
LACRIMEMUSE
Piano piano il giorno si delava e drena
lacrime in lacrimemuse
sciarrano gli occhi foderati
nel divenire vento
la sera addolce gli umori a piombo
non rinfrega nessuno ne inamara altro
coprendo di lana operata un futuro gelo
danno la consuetudine rinnichiata di gioia
apre una porta chiede luce
dove andava tutta uguale
e il solito buio si acquietava
in alta stagione faccio mare
dei pensieri condensati come marmi
l’onda scancella suoni chiusi
di avere mente
lasciando nuotare lontano
VIA STENDHAL
Ella la doppia LL ali di farfalla
quanto hanno sudato per volare
e sentirsi vive per una folata di vento
non teme più di cadere preda della testa
si afflosciano e muoiono cattivi pensieri
alleati del nero
nella mansarda del corpo
A aprirsi per un lungo tempo
nell'inesplorata intimità dei sogni
l'ora dei rimpianti s'inebria
del giorno che cammina diritto
E riconoscenza aperta della gola
desideri che nelle nascoste regioni
dopo tatuate pallide cose
si allineano nell'impronta di ogni essenza
la nebbia scritta si dissolve
Dal N.Y.Times Il tifoso poeta
Frank Messina
Do you know what it’s like
To be chased by the Ghost of Failure
While staring through
Victory’s door?
Of course you do, you’re a
Mets fan.
A Poet of the Mets Versifies of
Gloom
By
COREY KILGANNON
Frank Messina’s poetry captures, in its own way, feelings of anguish and
fear deep in fellow fans’ hearts.
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