Lost
in the House of Dawn
Ehi, Mr Shadow
Would you please tell me
How has gone away
the age of Aquarius?
That story full of love,
Hope and romance!
And why now
cannons balls
Keep on flying?
Please, tell me
where the best
minds
Of your generation
Are resting now?
Talk to me again
Of peace,
Speak again of brotherhood!
Aren’t you
used to live your
Own life anymore?
Or you’ve really got lost
In The House of Dawn?
Let them celebrate
Let them
celebrate
the end of your world,
they want to celebrate:
the American dream is over;
they are celebrating
money growing over nothing;
let them celebrate
discovering your rootless brushes;
they need to celebrate
the burial ceremony
of criminal capitalism;
they 've got to celebrate
the funeral
of greed octopus
which scrounges their people!
Let them celebrate
the dawn of new distribution
of richness of earth!
Let them celebrate
the end of your world.
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The new day
(on death of my brother Mauritius)
Now the veils of
Maya have fallen
And no longer
covers your body
The armor of the
Syrian Naaman;
I see on your face
Shining again the
ancient light
Of our childhood
games
When hopes
were all to come
And the misleading
curtain
Which hardens the
hearts
Had not yet come
between us.
Run now
On your nimble
legs
Wait for me in the
sunny lands
Where the sun
never sets down.
The poet’s claim
The lambs lie down on Westminster
sacrificed by the shot dead
priest of nothingness faith
pushed by madness
moved by hate
sent by pretending prophets
who now are cheering up
for more victims
in the pantheon web
of foolishness.
But two faults
never can make a why,
and violence can never be justified
even if you had a reason
to be spent
somewhere.
Men of power,
for the sake of the True
Merciful God
of all humanity,
please, put apart all your selfishness
and hear the poor poet
claiming for justice
and give to every people
their own land.
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Then came a Man
I remember when
at winter solstice,
we danced under
the stars
to propitiate favors by gods!
Then came a Man,
Son of the Only true God!
I still look at skies
when stars assemble in December!
But now I know
who to pray
for humanity's weaknesses
and for the beauty of the world
I have someone to thank!
I don’t know why
people are strange
‘cause never want to make a change
I might look
the same at their own eyes
My poetry no new ways tries
I always search
reasons of life
And I dislike all
human strife
I‘ve been long
time singing of love
Something like
more a mourning dove
I claim for peace
and brotherhood
I fear to be
misunderstood
I cry the times
have gone away
I should depart
but still I stay
Never will change
a poet’s heart
Always will live
the world apart
That’s our fate I
might believe
Can’t never
get what we conceive!
Four men in search of the truth
There were four
men
searching for
truth.
They all knew
that sixteen
hundred years before
Someone was asked
by a washing
hands' man
to say its meaning.
One of them
is on the Tower of
Pisa
which is still
bending
since then
'cause he refused
to declare the
earth is flat
to the clergy men
to the rappers of
truth
Several miles away
another one is
convicted
by other false
truth holders
he has lost his
wife
he's lost his
goods
he's lost his
freedom
and he's Lost
Paradise
And Torquato
has been serving
for seven years
through
in a madhouse
for his poetry was
full of truth.
The fourth man
lies
straight and tall
in the middle of a
square
where his
unfortunate harsh
took the place of
the flowers
He seems to warn
the passing-bys:
"Please, mind
the truth!"
