running time

it’s not a joke

I don’t exist for a day

and today is perfect

so perfect I thought

rainy tuesday ruby tuesday

an honest day I thought

if

I don’t exist for a day

look for my eyes

sunshine is coming so I’ll disappear

shine the shadow

shine the shortage

shine the shape

the shape we are in

and stop

stop falling

stop dropping

voice,eyes

OCTOBER ELIZABETHANS (1956)

*

O were I one in Three!Just like the Holy Ghost,

the Father and the Son,I’de reunite my scattered soul

and string them in from all the seas abroad;

no longer climb upon perdition’s mast

and wave a banner crying God,at last!

arco – photo courtesy of Mauro Migoni

we are almost here

with a short luggage

everyday is a possible journey

I was born close enough

I grew up far enough

my story is a face

a promenade and different light

daydream daydream

melancholy is a snake since

when I was four and usually

I drew all my skies in black

a duckling as I am since then

in order to become and pay some rent

once I am a shining glass

once I am a prayer lost

so now I left the radio station

missing all the music I was in commotion with

and the microphone,ferryboat for ideas

may I ever loose this world

the beauty inside

dripping circumstances

the musical response

connected with poetry

I put all these raw materials

in the suitcase together with

the mood and its variations

and now I’m writing my novel

the last chapter is going to be over

lungs and eyelids and lies

flashing variations mood

I should keep the beat

if I stay or if I go

staring through the window

I woke up oh mine

when you called me sweety

my rebirth was coming

may I bite you again may I feed you

some good reason for breakfast

me,barefoot in front of the door

kissing a smile sharing a toffee

morning lost,unusual old weather

a naked dress and daily blossoms:

two of us,a certain love

( Angoli,photo courtesy of Mauro Migoni )

this is the road,you see

all over the open field

all over the merry sky

actually a playground where

everyone is searching for a trip

a good good one,you know

remember the spiced sorrows

and the little delights

and the ghost cities you have been in

and the ghost cities you’re going to

so scratch the lines

when you blow away the blue

plenty of things fall apart

no longer exist

and whatever happens

this kind of days

they are magicians and travellers

they are pretty cool at all

( photo courtesy of Mauro Migoni)

]]> http://linotype14.wordpress.com/2009/03/20/magicians-and-travellers/feed/ 0 linotype14 174_delabre_02 http://linotype14.wordpress.com/2009/01/21/saul-williamswe-have-overcome/ http://linotype14.wordpress.com/2009/01/21/saul-williamswe-have-overcome/#comments Wed, 21 Jan 2009 17:25:40 +0000 linotype14 http://linotype14.wordpress.com/?p=112 ]]>

We have overcome.

Except those of us now in Gaza. Except those of us whom police kill. Except those of us who are suspects. Except those of us whom the church hate. Except those of us damned to taste good. Except those of us held by fate. We are meeting in the capitol. Word is, freedom will not wait.

All that once was never shall be.
All they could do won’t be done.
All we sang of is now happening.

[note to self:]
Must write
new songs
to become…

…And so it was. Through the collective imagination of the people, the force of will and human potential, and an unflinching ability to hold himself to task, Niggy Tardust was liberated. His ability to see beyond the boundaries and obstacles of ‘genre’, ‘race’, and suppression, allowed him to encompass a grace and sound that embodied the all. All that had stood against him, now stood with him. All that had claimed a lesser harmony, now craved voice and resonance. He stood with poets, painters, dancers, students, children of the night who had transformed themselves into a million bright ambassadors of morning, and proclaimed,

“We declare declaratives and deny the official. Based in the landmark of the G-spot, we have overtaken ourselves and overthrown our forefathers. Let there be light within the light and let it answer to the name of Darkness. We are forever risen from the deadly: the anti-virus and the All Stars. Granted power by forces unbeknownst to us. Made in the likeness of kindness. We offer anger to the angry and fear to the fearful. We dance at our own funerals to forsake the mourners…

…This is no time to cry! This is no time at all! Here is the moment of the overlooked and the unforeseeable. We are the elected officials of the people: poets and artists. We are the declarative statement of the inarticulate, the irreparably damaged goods of the bad meaning good. We are the government! We are the government! We are the government!”

(courtesy of Mauro Migoni)

E.E.CUMMINGS

(73 POEMS)

your homecoming will be my homecoming-

my selves go with you,only i remain;

a shadow phantom effigy of seeming

(an almost someone always who’s noone)

a noone who,till their and your returning,

spends the forever of his loneliness

dreaming their eyes have opened to your morning

feeling their stars have risen through your skies:

so,in how merciful love’s own name,linger

no more than selfless i can quite endure

the absence of that momente when a stranger

takes in his arms my very life who’s your

-when all fears hopes belief doubts disappear.

Everywhere and joy’s perfect wholeness we’re

let me catch your glance and write

what we did in our holidays

so pleasant so cool so basic

eating and cooking and cuddling

strolling about,done it

and the mouse’s cute eyes for the picture

and bittersweet wind off the bridge 7am

we are crumbs we are movies too

we are spending another season,you see

this red rose travelled with you

this rose is the pretty greetings around me now

happy new year happy year

where the worlds are sliding for you

where the worlds light up for you

they touch my fingers’ tip

(photo courtesy of mauro migoni)

dark is grey

beneath purple on green

even beautiful

at 4.30 p.m. along the tracks

this exausted november

is going to be over

I’m just waiting

just simple words

just a story in verse

november poisoned

everything around me

as the script said

the dancing room is empty now

and I seat down with my bag

looking at the dirt beetwen the tiles

listening to the misty voices

waiting