Archive for the ‘english’ Category

old ways

22/07/2017

i was ready
not only to spill the beans
but to spew out bees,
or spoken bullets:

to all my enemies,
flower wreaths
for their early funerals.

I was angry at the world
(and at myself).
a mean thing I became;
a name
not to be called,
a friend
not to be trusted,
a cornered
feral animal
baring my teeth.

i bit the hand that fed me.
i also spit
on the plate while
i was at it.

but the words
i spoke
carried no truth
behind them.

(they were just heavy on my heart)

it was an ugly facade,
and just this:
a mask
to protect myself
from more pain.

i pricked
others’ skins
so no spear
could prick me:

built an armor
of thorns
to close guard
my heart,
my weary soul
so no foe
(and no friend, unfortunately)
could come near.

total disaster

21/07/2017

a blow
constricts the flow
of blood
to your heart.

martyr
among the heroes,
savior of us people.

(please lord,
don’t take her!)

a scream, sharp as needles
pierces
through the walls.

you fall.

tissue
black as coal
makes you hurt.

inert
we stand,
holding our breath.

(what should we do?
what can we do?)

but you tell death
not today! not today!
strong you stay…

(blessed be you, blessed be!)

 

 

stand by me

20/07/2017

we laughed in the face of danger,
we rioted,
young wild and free.
we lit our cigarettes
in Molotov cocktails,
we drank ’till the night was day,
the day was night,
the in was out
the end was another beginning.

we labeled this
our adventures,
our experiments.
we called it “living
like there was no tomorrow”,
“rebel yell”,
and excused ourselves
“’cause boys will be boys”.

we, middle children
of white, middle-class, bland parents,
wanted to have “our own story”.

we said that we
were just expressing our individuality,
that this was what molded us,
what made us unique.

thus, we romanticized
our suffering,
thought our mental illnesses,
our emotional traumas
were absolutely necessary:

that this would make us,
in the end,
stronger,
the next Kerouacs, Poes
and Baudelaires.

we were in the tortuous path
of “finding ourselves”.

we entered our adult lives
not with a foot on the world’s door,
but kamikazeing.

addicted to uppers
and downers,
things to make us,
casual alcoholics,
(not to mention chain-smokers,
pill-poppers and broke)
functional.

miserable,
but “having the time of our
amazing, blessed lives”
on social media,
while on slow-drips
of homeopathic detoxing
to bear the sheer pressure
of being
emotionally unbalanced,
frustrated,
dreamless, jobless,
frail.

frail as broken kids.

behind a facade
of cool wayfarer ray-bans,
we were cold-turkeying children,
ego-tripping and jet-setting
to fill bottomless holes
of pure insanity.

’till the first one of us
fell.
the one that least deserved,
the one that never asked for it,
the one that picked up our pieces
cleaned puddles of vomit,
took us home, bathed us:

among us,
the one true angel.

thus, we rebuilt.
among the ashes and the stones,
we gathered what we could
from the fire,
and we redid it.

***

(now is time to be strong
for the harsh times
that are coming.

it is time for me to be your rock
as you were mine)

standing in the way of control

19/07/2017

on a rare, dark moon,
you feel cold shoulders everywhere,
and shiver, scared, cornered,
like you were kicked in the teeth.

it’s like a world, too busy
staring at its own belly button,
ran over you.

used and discarded,
you – always so loyal,
a righteous knight, the protector –
feel like, in the exodus, were left behind.

thus,
you tether dangerously
on the edge of despair.
you think
you ought to give up,
before its too late,
you must run and hide.

but its a conundrum, really:
how will you fix your loneliness,
your crave for attention,
by isolating yourself even more?

so you stand frozen on the spot,
spiraling out of control,
socially anxious,
paranoid;

a mess inside your head!
you can only conclude:
loneliness is a lot worse
for those who always always smile.

society

12/07/2017

i was silent and pliant, so they ate me up and spit me out, broken and fucked up. i did not protest, so they ground me up on their sharp walls, crushed me in their relentless engines. they steamrolled my in their asphalt of lies and corruption, and never once i stood up.

i always obeyed, blind; i never fought.

i also did not say a single thing when they took my neighbor, and my daughter; not much later, they took me. i didn’t resist, i didn’t open my mouth. they isolated me, then, filled me with fears, deflated my hopes, took away my rights, my decency.

they stole my humanity by exploiting my cowardliness, my carelessness, my apathy.

so, when I was left in the cold, dark bottom, it was too late; no one could finally hear me scream.

triangulation of desire

11/07/2017

he had kind eyes,
a warm and kind sense
of justice
and a charming smile
that could get him out
of any trouble.

that was almost nothing
but just enough
to fine-tune
my appetite.

mermaid

03/07/2017

on nasty days,
I always thought of myself
as some scary
deep-sea creature
full of angry, sharp teeth.

when calmer,
i pictured myself, maybe, as
a rock from the bottom
of the oceans:
hard and mossy,
unlikeable, untouchable,
something
so cold no one
would ever wanna take home.

and no one could change
this image of myself,
no matter how many friends,
or how many hugs
I would get,
how many messages
or love gestures.

no mirror could display
any but hideous things.

I could only see
me
ten-thousand feet
below,
into the cold water.

I was always
alone in my thoughts.

***

and then,
in a rare moment
I surfaced,
up up up, until I was
close to the land.

up there,
you came along:
a flurry little creature,
swimming about.

you circled me once, and then again,
twirling the waters,
dancing
in a flow
full of power.

as you cut
the waters,
the scales on your tail sparkled.
when I touched them,
they were as hard and as colorful
as a thousand gems
under my fingertips.

I caressed you
over and over,
and as you laid your head on my shoulder,
your coal-black hair floated
and shone almost white
under the milky moonlight.

the refraction
under the water
made it all look
like fractals.

so pretty
were your pearly white teeth
when you smiled.

***

and you visited,
many times.
we danced,
and talked until the wee hours,
stopping only when the fishermen came along.
we were
as happy as we could
for that moment.

we played cards
on sunken ships,
and you’d always let me win.

“you clearly wanted the victory,
so I don’t see the point in winning
like this.”

on these moments,
I didn’t see myself
as distorted
anymore;
as you touched me,
as we kissed,
I felt things that I hadn’t in very, very long.

but the surface
was bright
and loud! too loud!
and I wanted silence.

yet the seafloor was too dark,
and too quiet for you,
the water murky,
the ambiance too chilly:
you wanted the moon
and the stars,
and the shells in the sand.

you wanted the world
above,
and try to, one day,
take the land.

***

so, I gave you what I could:
my name and a promise
that I’d answer
every time you called.

and a goodbye,
so you could go.

I gave you the victory
you yearned for:

there was no longer
a point in winning
if you could not have
the light that you needed.

obsolete

24/06/2017

your stormy
obsidian eyes
got to me.

so, after
being closed up
on my own
for so long,
i decided to
open up
and show you
what was in me,
for years,
so heavily guarded.

i am just sorry that
after being reserved
for so long,
what was stored inside
was basically
rotten.

cheater

21/06/2017

in a world
obsessed with pictures
to measure value,
everyone
meticulously curates
a perfect image
to express themselves
to others,
either to
please
or to deceive.

thus,
it’s hard to believe
innocence,
and naiveté
when someone
crafts
a specific picture
to reveal
and
-specially –
to conceal
certain aspects
of things.

it’s my birthday today

25/05/2017

I am, at last, 30 years old.

A day I never envisioned
coming
but always hoped to get to.

Isn’t life a hoot?
I like to think so.

***
as a gift
I dedicate to myself
an itsy bitsy part of my very favorite poem:

“(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)”
– e. e. cummings