Have a good trip Mr Shadow

 

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

Another trip for  Mr Shadow

I

It’s very hard to live my own life

Fighting against the inhibitions,

the limits, the taboos of my own time!

 

It’s really very hard to cancel my personal history,

chopping off every bond with my past!

 

It’s hard to change the idea

We have of ourselves,

forgetting   what  the others

believe   to know of  us!

 

And it’s hard again to change

Our idea of  the life,

seeking for trust,

not in the eyes of the other people,

but in the deep eye of our being.

 

II

It’s hard for me to proceed

Through this path of loneliness,

hoping to undertake one day

my trip to Ixtlan,

to bathe me in the sacred river,

to purify me of all my sins,

and  understand the mysteries of life,

smelling the magic flower,

to reach the eternal safety,

the apex of   knowledge,

the heaven of the ever green city  

where the seven gold doors

 will finally open their secrets!

 

And the soul will fly for ever

Through the endless worlds

Of the universe

And nobody will know the reason why

 

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

 

Let me   kiss your feet baby,

I love them, allow me to kiss them,

I promise  you: only your feet Elem,

Nothing else,

nothing more than your wonderful feet.

I love them.

 

II

And you’ll be laughing, without telling  me why

because this is fantastic,

how you can laugh

without any  reason;

Let’s have another drink and   smoke a little more,

come here,  we’ll be

peacefully  alone.

 

III

God damn you,  Mr Shadow,

Balls to you;

the world around us  is so great

that I don't understand how you are not able

to find another damned place to go to;

and I’ll tell you much more:

I   understand  German;

I really do understand it , ‘ you know?

And even if you spoke any other bloody language,

I would understand you as well,

‘cause tonight I will kiss her feet!

Look at them:   they are so beautiful,

gilded as her hair,

and soon I will be  kissing them.

And she will laugh

the way she only knows ,

and nobody

will know the reason why.

Drift of Civilization

 

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

Drift of Civilization

(In death of Edoardo Sanguineti)

The green wood crashed

From the third floor down

while Edoardo

like dry wood

was left

two hours

waiting

for help;

in the meanwhile  televisions,   radios,

newspapers, networks,

were babbling of heroes,

other green wood

sent to die

by pompous senators

Pharisees of the third millennium

in the name of a homeland

with no more fathers!

But what kind of place

has become this Country,

Where poets live and die

In the utter indifference,

while bitches and their pimps

make the news

wide coverage’s enjoyed

by the newly scribes

In a frenzy of amps

That seem to lead us

Into the  drift

Of our civilization?

 

The Cosmos' Conquerors

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

 Like scissors cut from the head the hair

That’s the way we were born in  the Cosmos.

Wandering atoms,

molecules of discard,

rottenness of the universe,

ephemeral chemical structures,

extreme outskirts of living beings,

first in the nothingness of   perishable,

first among the oblivion,

sick walk-ons star like,

beard of  planets,

transitory living form

which has not still  right understood

its  correct value  in the complex alchemy

of the world.

Pain and pleasure

What else are you

But  not two opposite chemical transformations?

Law and Ethic, brakes of  fear?

Power, fallacious safety’s  illusion?

I do  believe that if tomorrow we disappeared,

Even exploding around with all our folly

the Cosmos would not however  realized

we are not anymore !

Sighing at the Universe

We might call it God

It's already  dawn 

somewhere in the east

 while the same sun

 is setting down

 yonder in  the west

 and seven billions hearts are throbbing

 all around the earth

 with their evil and good

moved by the same force

 that pushes the rivers, the seas and the stars:

 we might call It God

Mistery, Cosmos or Physics' Laws

 but that's It.

If you want you can read more free poems through the link below

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0165T61NE

Just a searcher of love

“Ubi sunt qui ante nos in mundo fuere?”

This question grows in my mind, from time to time;

 “Where are those who lived the world before we did?!”

It’s a question I make searching for God or investigating on Him!

One day I discover that other people have questioned God

 or themselves about the same matter: 

surely Kindleben

 and before him some unknown poet in 1271 

or maybe a classic latin poet…

Is that to be a poet?

Asking all the time the same questions?

We need something new in the world…

I just wanted to be happy, not a poet…

If I were happy would not be a poet…

But a poet is not just a rhymer, or a versemaker…

A poet is a searcher for love!

The long man's trip on the way of knowledge

 

 

Since long time past manhood has wondered about the most inner significance of our presence on the earth.

I imagine our primitives ancestors, still wrapped in their beast’s furs, asking themselves the meaning of the stars in  the sky, some brighter , some farer, some fading away, like falling down; or  they might be thinking why the rising and the setting down of the sun, the pouring rain, the flashing of the lightening, preceding the boasting thunder; and the mystery of flying , the fascination of dreams, the secrets in the silence, the magic of a new life coming out from feminine bodies.

They started worshipping the sun, the waters, the eagle, or the great mother because of these unanswered questions. May be the first spark of this craving of knowledge has started around the fire, old men telling stories to be remembered by the young of the tribe.

The quintessence of hundred thousand years of this human research can be found now in the great religious books of humanity: the Indian Vedas and Upanishads; the Tibetan Book of Death; the Wisdom Books of the Holy Bible; or even in the mysterious books of esotericism.

You might believe or not believe in God (I personally do); and we can discuss for thousands of years  Which One is the Only God (but I know there is only One God, anyway); some can call God the Cosmic Essence of the Universe and some others can crush the Unity of God in to a Pantheon of Gods (like ancient roman and Greek did and like Indians still do); you can even keep on worshipping idles and totems (as matter of fact money and lust are not  but the modern gods of contemporary times); but if have spent your life without searching a reason to be born, then your life has passed you by uselessly.

Through  centuries and millennia men have even abused of the power of knowledge, misusing magic formulas for cheating poor people, frightening them with the shadows of God (God Himself cannot scare anyone, because He can only love); the Books themselves were instruments of power: those capable to read them on them the sacred truths could exercise a great power on those ignoring the meaning of the signs traced on their lines.

This special issue of Arspoeticamagazine deals with the matter of knowledge in the beginning of the seventeenth century.

 Angelo Ruggeri shows in a selection of works, how Milton, Giordano Bruno, Galileo Galilei, Torquato Tasso and other great minds of this century, have handle and dealt with such a sensitive subject and  why the established power counteracted their thoughts.

In the same century, but in the last part of it,  I set my novel “Four voices, only one story”, where four main writers and their friends of the Academia of Lamole, in Tuscany, are compelled to hide away from Holy Inquisition because they have decided to translate in to vulgar language the Sacred Scripture against the 1596 Pope Clemente VII’s Decree, who wanted the Holy Bible still to be published only in Latin ancient language (incomprehensible to most  people).

Still remains a great question: up to where can manhood  push his thirst of knowledge? Is it right to go beyond anyway? Is it correct to restraint the longing of manhood to break all the frontiers of knowledge? And who is titled to check scientist, poets and all the men who feel free to research the truth anyway and anywhere? Such questions are still of topical actuality and is not in the intentions of our magazine to dare to give any answers to them. I can personally only say that when I was much younger than today, my answer would be simply aimed to deny any chance of control or censorship.

But now I’m not so sure anymore.

 

Next on Arspoeticamagazine

Only two hundred years left

That's the time Manhood has left before the Earth been destroyed ( by nuclear disaster and/or accident.)
It's the qualified opinion espressed by astrofisicist Stephen Hawking in an interview released to a Webchannel.
The great scientist also believes that Humanity needs to colonize the space, in order to survive to his own destruction.
He added that crisis such that suffered in 1963, at the time Russian and American risk to face each other in a nuclear world war for Cuban missils, will have place again and again in the next history of men's relation, making the risk of selfdestruction.
But if men succeed in avoiding such an event in the next two hundred years, they will be able to conquer the space.

To learn more on that:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1301482/emailArticle.html

I do my homework too

It's very fascinating and heartbreaking Jeremy's Keeling's story, first abandoned by his mother, and ready to fill the solitude of a young orang-utan also discharged by her mother.

Read the whole story on DM on line by JEREMY KEELING himself

Scarred by his traumatic childhood, Jeremy Keeling found solace working with exotic animals. Now, in his enchanting and touching book, he reveals how he became a ‘mother’ to an abandoned baby orang-utan called Amy - and how she healed his broken heart...

The car climbed the steep bank at high speed and then rolled – nose to tail – back on to the motorway hard shoulder, the impact ripping the roof and shattering windows. Everything went black. I suffered head injuries, as did Amy, the one-year-old orang-utan I had rescued after her mother abandoned her.

Luckily, my girlfriend Meryl was unscathed and my son Jamie escaped with bruising. A policeman, arriving at the scene, crawled into the mangled wreck from the rear and saw the back of my blood-soaked head. He noticed a large, hairy hand reach out and wrap itself around my head, cradling it. I had once saved Amy. And now she would not let me go.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1286101/JEREMY-KEELING-The-orangutan-saved-life.html#ixzz0qi9xShmO