The sinkholed's plea

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99HPDG9

If you find a skeleton

tied by wires to another skeleton,

tied to another skeleton

and still to another one, that’s me.

Do not look for me in any place,

in a hole or in a ditch.

I lie in those deep and twisted cavities

Flowed by rivers

 which are common in the Kras  region

shared by Italy, Slovenia and Croatia

and ill-famed as  swallow holes.

 

Please wrap me in a wired drape

and give what rests of my body

 back to my beloveds,

to my homeland

and to the things of God.

I hate no one and forgive all.

Just one last thing I’m going to ask you:

open the eyes of your children to the truth!

 

Echoes from a sad soul - 8

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C9R3YJRP

The new day

(in 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 again

Shining 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.

Echoes from a sad soul - 7

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C9MFC8NZ

Just let them

I

Let them pass

Come on! Laissez faire, laissez passer!

Today is not time

To shoot people anymore!

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

Today there is not time

To stop goods anymore!

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 not hiding anymore

The totems of progress!

Let’s go worshipping

The glittering gods

Bounding ahead!!

II

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 'got 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.

III

Let them walk

Let them walk! They are marching for freedom.

Let them walk! They are not hiding anymore!

When people go out their homes,

it means they need to go

and show they are alive!

We need to be poor together

or to be rich together!

You, one per cent,

you can't stop them anymore!

Richness is to be shared

while you keep the other ninetynine per cent

out of goods.

You priests of the profit,

criminals of finance,

embezzler of money,

cheaters of ever,

trappers of men!

Stop your police

and let them walk!

IV

Let them sing

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 with the voice of the sixties!

Let them sing remembering flowers!

Let them sing for a new world to come!

 

Submitted to Armarolla in the 1^st of November 2017

Echoes from a sad soul - 6

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99HPDG9

Please tell me Lord, for you know it

Tell me Lord, because You know,

if still are living our fathers

and where lie their spirits?

Where are the loves and the sighs

The bright ideas

The shaking power

of the nations in the world?

And where are the pleasures of flesh

And the wealth of the globe?

Where the ancient, human wisdom

boundless and eternal?

Where is now that mother

who tender spent herself

on her children?

And that strong father

Who seemed omnipotent?

Where are those games away,

Where age carefree

And the long-awaited youth dreams?

It cannot finish all

During our short life

And all disappear into Nothingness!

Echoes from a sad soul - 5

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C91ZWNT2

Don’t ask me please

 

Don’t ask me please

If I like you

You know I do

But only a platonic love

We can live together

O My Elem

Nobody can build

Any love’s happiness

On the rubble

Of someone else’s   love.

Eventually we both know

There is no rust

In the day

Of the everlasting dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There we’ll finally join

Our souls

For the eternal

never ending love.

Echoes from a sad soul - 4

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07JL32VL5

The time of love

Maybe I’ve loved you

A long time ago

When you

Vestal of Hippocrates

chastely manipulated

The matter sacred to your god!

Maybe you would have loved me

In another time

Where I would have drawn

With words

Your Greek profile

In white veils wrapped!

Maybe I will love you

tomorrow;

but today it is far away

the time of love!

Echoes froma a sad soul - 3

 

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

The sleeping  soul

 

Was sleeping the soul

In the shadow of reason

As we ran

From the golden prisons

Of Our unfair society

Meeting the horror

Of illusory freedom

Of unattainable equalities

Fallacious Brotherhood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there was no poetry

In violence

And in the silence

Of death.

 

Echoes from a sad soul - 2

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C8QQ4BSN

I’ll rise again

 

I will rise again,

 when the day dies,

 and I will finally fly! 

I'll be music,

 sweet melody on the evening,

 free spirit,

in to the sunset

 melancholic harmony

of an Andalusian guitar! 

 I'll be joy with no regret, 

I'll be love without fear

 I'll be measureless

 without barriers

 with no borders

 fleeting for ever

 in the infinity sky.

Echoes from a sad soul - 1

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07H44DYF7
 

I don’t want to be a poet

I don’t to be a poet

I want to be none

But a casting shadow

in the night time

looking for his body

looking for his own stuff

 

I don’t want your mercy

Your esteem

I don’t need your approval

 

I’m not looking for success

Nor for glory

Not even for reigning

Over gilt worlds

  

Nor for leading

Wastepaper troops

But I’m only on search

Of my real, original stuff!

 

Heartly despise me

Crush me under your feet

Forefinger me

As a pattern of human abjection!

Leaded by your mind’s envy

You’ll be slaves

Of your own measured freedom.

 

You’ll be winners

As well defeated

Struggling the battle.

You’ll be the machines

Of your own progress.

 

On construing

You’ll be destroying

And going towards

You’ll go backwards.

Inevitably.