Echoes froma a sad soul

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C8YY6R71

The Slacker

 

Maybe I was a slacker

Ever since as a boy

I dreamed of traveling around the world;

Yes, I had to be just a slacker

Because I never thought

To spend my time on earth

To make money, to seek for power,

to become someone of success.

Just as a good slacker

I never even gave great importance

To appearance, elegance,

luxury cars.

And when I was looking for truth

In the light of dawns and sunsets,

believing the poets

are best men in the world

And when I dreamed of flying

I certainly was a slacker.

Then, when I chose to rent to school

My bachelor's degree

sure that our society

needs models of freedom,

imagination and passions;

and when I couldn’t bear

hundreds of erupting volcanoes

of increasing  hormones

and I let myself be overwhelmed

then I was definitely a slacker.

And I certainly was a slacker

Even when, according to law,

I preferred love, dedication, affection

that no one counts in the

Gross Domestic Product!

When I finally chose

to consider more important

To be, better than   have,

To think, better than doing,

Meditating, rather than acting,

Even then I was a slacker.

And now that I've discovered

 the best part of life,

That nobody can take me away,

I persist and I am still a slacker!

Sparks of Faith - Volume 1

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0181HCMKY

The World’s Creation

 

At the beginning God created the sky

And the earth, which was shapeless and desert

And darkness cover’d the abysses close by;

But on the waters, with divine, expert

Zeal, God established that obscurity

Had to be opened to the bright alert!

God, seeing that it was good, called Day the light.

And the darkness instead was named Night.

 

Then beneath the waters, the firmament

set God, and between them, b’low, the dry land

He also set, whither at same moment,

To any bud and tree He gave command

From seed to be produc’d for nourishment

Of any species, in ground, soil or sand!

After He had named sky, earth and sea

To following duty God had to begin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hereafter the lights in the sky He set

Doing the moon and the sun for night and day,

And other signs and stars in dose correct,

for making years and seasons going away,

For the Most High is much more than perfect

And furthermore of this I cannot say!

About this seventh stanza therefore

I will not tell you nothing anymore!

 

 

“Fly off all birds”- said God- “freely in the air

And splash in to the  sea any kind of fish;

Graze lambs, calves and livestock everywhere

In grassy lawns that will never languish;

Grow up any reptiles fair and unfair,

living beings either monstrous or polish!”

After the earth had all animals found

God said to them to multiply around.

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?"