Sparks of Faith- Volume 3

 

https://www.amazon.it/dp/B07JPK5MCD

Your power won’t last forever

 

Come on great men of the world

who owe the power

You have already had much money

To move on soldiers

much gold to feel stronger

luxury palaces to live comfortably safe in!

And fields, ground, soil, trees,

Rivers, lakes and seas

As far as your own eyes can get

‘Till the horizons can show!

 

But do you really think

your power will last forever?

 

Don’t you remember Ramses the Third,

Cyrus of Persia, Nebuchadnezzar,

Alexander the Great, the emperor Augustus

and all the kings from the past up to Napoleon?

You’re now inventing new richness made of nothing

You’re exploiting the soil under its surface

And even you’re searching for more in the universe

Still cheating the poor!

But don’t never forget

Whom God created the world for!

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

I promise to talk

If there is someone who knows, he must talk!

To tell us why the son

has been torn from His Mother…

And the brother from his brother….

And why guiltless children and timeless old men?

Why? I can still see them on spirit and flesh

fluctuating through the chimney pots

greeting us with a compassionate smile.

I, still hear barks and voices

assembling, frightening, dispersing,

chopping off bonds of affection:

we won't see them anymore.

I feel the shame to be a man!

And the fear to be alive and to love!

But why

if even Jesus Christ, from the Cross,

had already forgiven us!

Why? Can somebody tell me why?

Please let talk those who can, those who want it!

And if you know, please talk about it.

I promise I will do it

For not to forget.

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

In death of my father

 

I do not remember now

In the name of what kind of freedom

Your agendas I wanted to fight

Although today I know

The law which opposed each other

But later I knew

That not of iron

was made your heart!

And how many fairy tales,

I still had to tell you

But you seemed to be eternal!

Play in the heavens

Trumpet of silence

In honor

Of that sergeant

Who is no longer here, among us!

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

The sleeping  souls

 

The souls kept sleeping

In the shadow of reason

As we ran away

From the golden prisons

Of our unfair society

Meeting the horror

Of illusory freedom

Of unattainable equalities

of fallacious brotherhoods.

And there was no poetry

In the violence

And in the silence

Of death.

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

The Word Mason

 

I 've never believed a poet could be

compared to a mason,

unable to see words similar

to stone-bricks!

I said to myself: how can a man see

a poem like a home?

Where are the walls to touch?

Where presences to smell?

And familiar noises to be heard?

I know of course that anyone

Is able to see by his mind’s eyes;

but what if I were a King Midas

from ancient Greece

making verses of all my touching words?

Then I’d be able to construct

Golden, glittering poems?

As a matter of fact a poet can build his poems

like a craftsman does his own handicrafts!

So many voices I can hearing around:

some, may be coming from Gehenna’s souls,

sound like star’s waves;

some others, come echoing,

from a confused dream of my past:

-" Watch out, boy! Lord Winningoes

will let the cat out of the bag, ‘you know?"

 

 

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

Just let them

I

Let them pass in Berlin

Come on! Laissez faire, laissez passer!

Today is not time

To shoot people anymore!

Don’t you know is November the 9th 1989?

Today   stop goods no more!

Come on! Only one thousand dollars

Will cost you a plenty full track!

At 9 past 21 p.m.

The wall is falling down!

Laissez faire, laissez passer!

There are bound to be changes

For our lives further on!

It’s crashing down

Together with our illusions

Their false promises

The wrong secular hope!

Come on!

The wall is hiding no more

The totems of progress!

Let’s go worshipping

The glittering gods behind!

II

Let them celebrate in U.S.A.

Let them celebrate

the end of your world;

the American dream is over;

money growing over nothing;

they need celebrating

the burial ceremony

of criminal capitalism,

of greed octopus

scrounging all people!

Let them celebrate

the dawn of new distribution

of richness of earth!

Let them celebrate

the end of your world.

III

Let them walk in New York

Let them walk! They are marching for freedom.

Let them walk! They are not hiding anymore!

When people go out it means they are in need

To show they are alive!

They need to be poor or rich together

You, one per cent, don’t stop anymore,

Goods to be shared

You priests of the profit,

criminals of finance,

embezzler of money,

cheaters of ever, trappers of men!

And let them finally walk!

 

IV

Let them sing in the Country

Let them sing, all over the Country, let them sing!

Let them sing, they are the real voice of the Country!

Let them sing, in the name of liberty,

let them sing in the name of dignity!

Let them sing against speculation,

Let them sing against criminal finance!

Let them sing for the world is their world,

Let them sing for their sons, for their daughters!

Let them sing with the voice of the sixties!

Let them sing remembering flowers!

Let them sing for a new world to come!

 

V

Let them in Washington

Let them in, Mr President;

they are the silent majority

who is tired to see a greed,

financial minority

exploiting the world.

Let them in, Mr President;

sit down and listen to them;

they have a lot of things to say;

they are the future of Mother Earth.

Let them in, Mr President;

By occupying Wall Street

they want to show how

a bunch of criminals

have occupied the power

and not by means of democracy

but with illegal tricks.

Let them, in Mr President;

they are fed up

to endure the 10% of people

 owning the 90% richness

against the 90% of people.

Let them in, Mr President;

 they want a new world of justice

 and USA must show justice.

Let them in, Mr President:

you can choose to be with them

or against them;

with justice or against justice;

with the New World

or against the New World!

Memories from the past

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CW1FTLMB

My call to poetry’s unity

I call for Eraton’s and Polimnia’s help

To build some sapphic stanzas

verse after verse

Similar, at least, in their external structure,

To the great poems

Built up in Lesbo of Ancient Greece by Sappho

And by Alcaeos and everywhere in the world

Poets are so sensitive to hear for those

Above said Muses.

Regarding the content I might be happy

To fill  my poem with love and peace for manhood

Gathered under a unique big family:

the poetry’s one!