'nuff said

i know, i know, it's shameless self-celebration. whatever.
but you know what? made me laugh.
and that, in and of itself, is quite an accomplishment.
(the fact that it was written on a semi-official document definitely adds to the hilarity)

1

you saved my life
i wasn't there to save yours

i'm sorry

i hope you can forgive me
because i know i can't forgive myself

buio

hardly more than a blind woman
sitting alone, silently, in a dark room
senses alert, looking for a black cat
searching for something which isn't there

vibrate

my phone's on vibrate for you

god knows what all these new drugs do

i guess to have no more fears

but still i always end up in tears

[r.w.]

the verge is a few frustrations to your left

it's in times like this that i wish i had the linguistic (and mental) ability to regurgitate all the anger and frustration and... and what? if i can't even put it into words. and why anger? against who? frustration, well, maybe. sit at a table, smile, be my better self, introduce myself with witty expressions that will make you smile and maybe even think i'm funny but i'm just trying to... to do what? the message is not in the words, read between the lines ~ why do you want to know who i am? what i do? it's inconsequential, i despise what i do, and what i really do, nobody knows, it's mine, do you really think i care about this? that your pretentious, empty words really make you important in my eyes? that i will look at you in awe? that what you do matters to me? that your pompous abstract lucubrations define who you are? i know that my priorities don't match yours, what you deem so lifesaving, your seemingly vital meetingspaperstheorybusinessbureaucracymoneyappearances and whathaveyou, hey, be my guest, i can gladly do without that, i'll trade all of it for a pair of eyes and a smile, the unmediated, raw, gut-wrenching, heartbreakingly painful, tear-jerkingly sad human side of life, the only (valuable?) trace i want to leave of me ~
leave a mark, sell an image. i'm not good at that. it's heartbreaking to be so fake at times. i swim in my green glass, anchored to the bright, plasticky red of a solitary cherry. no pit, we match. self-involved or self-pitying, the difference at times is so thin, see-through like an indian blouse that shines in an unforgiving sun. i want to be saved by tea. i know i was supposed to offer, but i didn't, and i feel guilty now
stop hinting at it, will ya? stop looking at me, will ya?
but at the same time, i can't let her in
please stop, dinner is turning into a nightmare, stop
i can't take it, it's overwhelmingly saccharine. i can drown in lemons, not in sugar. if only they were red. and my nose stopped bleeding. overflow?

sanity is relative.

leaps

what do you make of a day that doesn't exist?

how do you go through it knowing that for the next three years it will be nothing but a click of a clock's arms? that it will not last longer than the blink of an eye? a breath on your lips? an instance, barely intense (or long) enough to be remembered past the initial awe.

and yet, here you are, living through it as if it were a real day, like any other on the calendar, to mark off as yet one more slice of life silently buried in time past.

what if it was just a dream? and for one day, only one, time stood still, and nothing else mattered?

what if.

take a leap.
of faith.

i never had poetry dedicated to me
or a song.
if you had to give me one,
which would it be?

last shot

time to go

gather momentum

find your balance

aim

good luck

the end

score

after all

that's the goal

or so it seems

T.B.C...

if you say so...

so many plays


so little space

T.B.C...

ready when you are

patiently

waiting

T.B.C...

pick your goal

the coast is clear ~ nobody interferes

one puck ~ color's irrelevant

two goals ~ alike yet different

it's your choice ~ nobody else's


which will you pick?







(part 1 of a short thread dedicated to roller hockey ~ not good enough for a project, but satisfying enough to share)

T.B.C...

cold

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps through my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

[sml]

di carezza in carezza

di certezza in stupore
tutta questa bellezza senza navigatore
come se gli angeli fossero lì
a dire che si
e' tutto possibile

[l.l.]

flowery skies

interesting light effects...
is it still "homely"...





... from atop a wooden chair...
... even when seen through tears?

disposable

perishable


recyclable


...

the slow winter of the soul

this is my december
this is my snow covered home
this is my december
this is me alone

this is my december
these are my snow covered dreams
this is me pretending
this is all i need

and i just wish that i didn't feel
like there was something i missed

and i’d give it all away
just to have somewhere to go to

[l.p.]

In Caelo et In Terra fiat Voluntas Tua - Gloria Spiritu Sancto

What language do You speak/If You speak at all?
Are You some kind of freak/Who lives to raise the ones who fall?
Hey, would You tell me why/The cat fights the dog?
Do You go to the Mosque/Or the Synagogue?
And if our fates have all been/wrapped around Your finger
And if You wrote the script then/why the troublemakers?
How do You do?/How does it feel to be so high?
And are You happy?/Do You ever cry?

[I sometimes cry]

You've made mistakes/Well that's ok 'cause we all have
If I forgive Yours/Will You forgive mine?

{s.}