Friday, September 1, 2017

CLAUDIA PICCINNO


CLAUDIA PICCINNO

ADAM, EVE AND THEIR POETRY

Is your poem lost forever?
the only nod of a likely happiness,
Fleeting forgetfulness of pain,
Suspended dimension of the impossible.
Incredible anger
devastated the geography of a soul,
When the silence sank the blade
In the signs ofloneliness.
She ... threatening
Prey of an atavistic fear,
Unconscious victim of a bond
Which could not exist.
A poem without verses or stanzas
A poem without students
That they learn it by heart,
An unrecognized poem
from Unesco.
Eve looked for it in doubt
In the journey and in her guilt,
In the excuses sent and never delivered,
Eve has looked for it in Adam's threats,
In the voices of the Sibylites and in a day
Of the calendar.
Maybe was it lost with that red rose
Of a summer evening
swept by windings of Narcissus?
Or it was the fruit of hallucinations
Of a little Eve?
Tell me Adam, tell me.





LOVE?

Love is the sunflower
Which turns in my direction
As I was the only light of the day,
Love is the man who waits for me
At the slopes of the mountain,
Love rests in the shadow of my freshness
And improves my  way so hard.
Love knows what I miss
And it does not punish me with his absence,
Love listens to all my silence,
Love fills the black hole of a distance
It does not dig up with its omissions.
Love doesn’t live as a fault its distractions,
he replaced them with laughters or conscious privations.
Love has no logic or prohibitions,
Love has restless beats .......
Love rustles in memories
He hesitates behind a display
And dies as surrogate of a false addiction
Which misunderstands the sense of belonging.





WAITING FOR GODOT

Two yolks in an egg
Life and its double
Foscolo and Ortis
Dr. Jekill and Mr Hyde,
I am here
waiting for Godot.
Do you believe
That Love can be learned?
Be silent, it’s obvious
That you don’t know how to do.
And me?
I learned to return the low blows
After repeated unnecessary forgiveness.
Love and hate
Truth and lie
Feeling and calculation.
Two yolks in an egg.
His shell crushed
In crazy chippings
waiting for Godot.

CLAUDIA PICCINNO


No comments :

Post a Comment