Echoes from a sad soul - 11

 

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Searching  in the Universe

 

You were not ready man

To trip across the Universe

Through the endless skies

In the wheels of the Cosmos

No, you were not ready at all!

Who knows what are you going to be

Wearing those human clothes?

Inside your time

You can be what you want:

A man absorbed in his loves

With a lot of joy

Thousands of pleasures

So much power

And a desperate, lonely sunset;

A lonely man

Searching among his people

The truth hidden behind the prejudices

Aside the ravines of the mind

In the ancient, still unfold pages

Of the Imperishable Book;

 

Or maybe you will go far away

Pushed by the Ulysses hint

To discover what is set

Behind the borders

of the known world!

 

No, you were not ready yet

For your trip through the Universe!

You have been stopped by your affections

Or by your sickness

Your miserable power;

Or perhaps

Your boat was simply

still too fragile

to face the fluctuating sea

of mysterious storms on the Space.

You’ll have to enjoy and suffer

Again and again

Constrained in your material borders

Before you can deserve to rejoin

The Divine Unity has All created!

Echoes from a sad soul-10

 

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Four men in search of the truth

 

There were four men

searching for truth

 

They all knew

that sixteen hundred years before

Someone was asked

by a washing hands' man

to say what was the truth

One of them

is on the tower of Pisa

which is still bending

since then

'cause he refused

to declare the earth is flat

to the clergy men

to the rappers of truth

Several miles away

another one

is convicted

by other holders

of false truth

he has lost his wife

he's lost his goods

he's lost his freedom

and he's Lost Paradise

 

And Torquato

has been serving

for seven years through

in a madhouse

for his poetry was sure

so full of truth

The fourth man lies

straight and tall

in the middle of a square

where his unfortunate harsh

took the place of the flowers

He seems to warn the passings-by:

"Please, mind the truth!"

 

Echoes from a sad soul - 3

 

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

The Ballad of 1968’s Revolution

 

They told us to go home

Folding down our flags

And forgetting about our slogans!

"Such a craziness

 To Change the World!!

But what kind of madness!?

It’s not a randomness they are all hippies!!

We really need a strong man!

Here you can see them

these drug addicts

invading the streets

shouting bullshit!

And what do they have to do with Vietnam?
Someone has finally to decide

The use of the iron fist:

Let’s disperse that crowd!"

 

II

Hello comrades

Let’s get out of our homes

Dust off your flags

let's go back screaming our slogans!

 

The '68’s revolution is never finished

and even now, we want peace!

Crucify whom I say!

 

Our yesterday enemies

Are here to fight with us

For building a better world!

 

And you barons

begin to tremble

your domain

has the counted days:

out the barons from the school!

 

III

 

And they keep on saying

Just stay at home boys

And forget your slogans

It’s up to us

To solve everything:

Start looking   the world with our eyes!

In Villasor 1977

Echoes of a sad soul-8

 

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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.

 

In London the 22nd of March 2017

Echoes from a sad soul - 7

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C9K9ZGDJ

Just let them live

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!

Echoes from a sad soul - 6

 

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

The drift of Civilization

(In the death of the poet Edoardo Sanguineti)

 

The green wood crashed

From the third floor down

while Edward

like dry wood

was left

two hours

waiting

without any help;

meanwhile Televisions,  radios,

newspapers, networks,

were babbling of heroes,

other wood green

sent to die

by pompous senators

Pharisees of the third millennium

in the name of a homeland

with no more fathers!

What kind of place

has become this Country

Where poets live and die

In the utter indifference

And the bitches

With their pimps

make the news

And by the new scribes

They enjoy wide coverage

In a frenzy of amps

Which seem to lead adrift

our civilization?

 

Echoes from a sad soul - 2

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C9HWH86T

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

 

 

                                                                                  In Sardinia, 1982