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.
But I still write poems
I saw my brother
tired
Under the scorching sun
And I passed straight away
Without a gesture
Without a word
Just with a
thought
To share his pain.
But I still write poems!
And I’m still lonely like a
stone
And I’m still lonely
Like a stone.
When you are alone at your birth
You will live alone
Forever.
Only God
Makes me feel good!
All in the same time
And you, in
Australia,
or somewhere else
in the east of my country,
have already had
your diner
and you’re going
to enjoy yourself
with your friends
in your free
country
while someone else
in the west
is still sleeping
may be dreaming of
his best;
I can’t believe
in this same
time
that I feel free,
if not happy,
people are
starving down in Africa
people are banned
off from web in China
widows are burned
somewhere in India
women are hit
everywhere in the world
All in this same
time
while I’m sitting
here
in front of my PC
All in one time.
There is love and love
There is sibling love
There is a father’s love
There is a mother’s love
That never deceives
There is filial
love
There are lovers
Burning on passion
There is love in a
marriage
That does not imply any trouble
There is the divine love
Higher and eternal
that never fails!
I do not want to write poems
anymore
I do not want to write poetry
Made of lines that drip
Blood oozing from my heart!
I do not want to write poetry
wails of a denied love
Lamentations of my solitude!
And only the prayers
soothe
My thirst for love!
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!
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Now I know what is love
Now I know what is love
Not the sudden passion
that turns off soon
and then rises again
Not even your eyes
May be sincere
But not eternal
Not your vain, fallacious promises
But the Word that never betrays
It’s
true love!
The poet’s claim
The lambs lie down
on Westminster
sacrificed by the
shot dead priest
of the 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 the whole
humanity,
please, put apart
any selfishness
and hear the poor
poet
claiming for
justice.
In London the 22nd
of March 2017
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!
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 we faced against
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 not anymore!
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.
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?"
Just let them do it
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 ninety nine 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!
V
Let them in
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!
