giovedì 31 marzo 2016

The shadow of the almighty back by Stefano Donno



 











Portraits faces lost for years in the hands of God
the joy is worth that spread through the meadows filled
caresses slight slip on the parched earth of remorse
and there is no end to the eternal dismay that every night reinforces the shame
just as the day is about to end and the city in silence
It falls into a light sleep with no shadows or lights but only memories

mercoledì 30 marzo 2016

Ancestral rites metric heavenly by Stefano Donno



 













Shooting in writing two lines not in line
and then I'm going to throw up the syllables too
the tip of the pencil is broken between the bones
while on the sheet you draw life
and are the first verses as broken whimpers
on wind cliffs shattered

martedì 29 marzo 2016

GOD ... GODS ... ANGELS by Stefano Donno












Shy approach if I look out on the screen
the heavens respond in unison to the attack immediately
and relentlessly without fear without the oxymoron
his white head held proudly assigned task.

Without the access codes everything is denied
and god is equipped to time call waiting
just as everything but everything goes to ruin

venerdì 25 marzo 2016

Flocks of birds along the constellation of Orion by Stefano Donno



 

















Flocks of birds smashing windows
again say nothing brooms 
only remain in the sidelines dirty read 
while life itself scribbles night 
under heavy and defamatory accusations 
who think they know the smell of snow 
while it's all dung and ardee ashen 
and miserable fortunes by flower merchant

mercoledì 23 marzo 2016

The cosmic battle of red ants by Stefano Donno



 











Our ancestors
tell happy to chalices and blood
the passage easier for the humiliations and fears
tell the nights spent in the street
while dropping napalm like snow
tell of cold wars of red ants
and their sad walking around the circumference

martedì 22 marzo 2016

Fragments of the future by Stefano Donno


 









The train runs fast along the oxymoron of light
out the window at the passing of time it is as sweet as the apocalypse
red black convoy of despair
and there is a fabulous place to go
the winter thirsty bushes go to die without pain
while the wind erodes the narrow fingers firmly in prayer
and it is unreal the frame of the evening descends brown
and not escape the ghosts scary on the plain of excruciating hill
exhaling the madness of the day in an afternoon without peace

lunedì 21 marzo 2016

Storms and assaults by Stefano Donno


 


















On an island adrift in a thousand dreams
the Phoenicians who rise from their ashes sly
die in the light of the cosmos.
A stone idol remains silent
and looks at the sea that has the same color of pain.
The loud thunder as his fists angry gods
explode in psychic storms
complicit silence and fear never see tomorrow

venerdì 18 marzo 2016

Evocations and invocations from other sentimental universes by Stefano Donno



 

















Pay attention to your dirty eyes
eyes laughing bastards absences
of your bowels writhing singing misshapen
violent and cruel hate barbarian
in humble joys of shipwrecks
of terrible cliffs of marble
sculpted by the silence and hatred black and empty.

Day after day
work well work hard
worked as it should
on your useless verses on your canvas
work well work hard work as it should
day after day
a boycott to sabotage
everything makes sense
blush in silence of your smallness
blush of the deafening noise of your lies
that breaks the universe connections
blush
always blush
in front of the little prince
blush before the loneliness pushed into a corner
reddened by the intemperance of a revolver
you do not have the courage to challenge
for bestiality and necromancy

giovedì 17 marzo 2016

God does the Universe spring cleaning by Stefano Donno



 














What little peace lurks in every habit
there is compelled to free grammars and smile
we engage every day with simple devotion
moving shelves desks chairs cutlery jewelry
as if to say that the pain is consistent hypothesis
never certain until the bottom of the roads traversed the dark
never satisfied modest love for things and poses.

We fell in love with Death between tears and sweat
we picked up on stumps lit wounds never healed
what we feel we understand very well well
we know that we have to be there and stubbornly believe
without ever yielding to the gnarled wind moaning language
without ever hoping that the end of the day to a head node ports.

The universe spring cleaning you do in a day
perhaps taking advantage of the vacuum of an afternoon without sleep
without losing control while knowing to pay all
no escape as a melancholy goodbye to orange blossom.

mercoledì 16 marzo 2016

Pilgrimage in Nothing by Stefano Donno



 












Illegal curve of fate does not stop
but it runs straight tip and decided to disaster
closed in a deserted night full of rubble
indeed it may get dirty in the mire of remembrance
imperceptible flow non-negotiable in the hope
not lost the brazen air of asking not give up
continuing to wander around in circles in the alley in the cold
counting the hours of the afternoon will go out on the waterfront
the lip biting on weary steps and long of a church
basically still burns the word open and the desire
consoling wicked smile and offends love.

It is far away stands the micro sound of a siren in the urban night
does not add up nerves are rubbed
in the obvious joke without manners passersby on holidays
sheer ignorance applaud the slaughter entertainment
to the bitter end to that anything that serves to confuse forever

martedì 15 marzo 2016

The ingenuity of evil disguised rose by Stefano Donno


 












I measure the wall acute splashed accessoften i contract the silent eari hold a metal breath in the darkgasp contracted the darkness contactpleased with the slight hint step in the memoryi become the rock around the iron smile losecontaining and inhuman content wrapperi turn off the boiling crushed inert on the couchoff inside soffocoati lost in the handopen the bottom of the body passage miserablechipped the gesture in the game lost in a duelpazeinte hint at despairing sense of guiltthe nerve claim the game alivepierced weary waiting yield escape plan. 
The pain i feel the pain i think i eat insideand the desire to look back into the funnel Electricthe fate hide the cry I give to the near pastthe messy s'arrangia exact in the moment of deaththe instinct remains destroyed suddenly in uncertain havocbut never someone to return the wrong or you give the caseso wicked that does not mind the sordid mess

lunedì 14 marzo 2016

Before the massacre of feelings by Stefano Donno



 














Clear the massacre of blurt
the slender appeal dripping messy
everything seems strange different from before
and i do not know what the voice whispers plan
or in here before i was stopped
i felt that i saw wheezing full in me

i was talking and i could not stand at all the weight
i that i myself sitting at the bar watching you
i screamed at sunset stupid in love
i feel that your hand and caressed tired
i looked that far that i just talked floor.

Crazy building the bench broken in the center
street uncertain brisk walking sinks
in a moment the miseries and all i carry inside
it becomes silent furiously without me lift a finger

venerdì 11 marzo 2016

The Symbol of Love and Tradition by Stefano Donno



 


















I observe the insect hanging alien body
swings in the balance but it's not the point
i need the eyes closed because I fear
not seen not seen fear the imbalance
but being a bitter smile choke full
in the sleep center cord never stirred nor serene
i try to mend the gap of the obvious damage
without ever losing the remote control.

Decomposed stomach breath becomes bitter acid
disappearing ink glides liquid in the sink
coppery battered its fixed internal face
the full rust mirror hanging skinny to the bone
dark messy but not full of love stolen
whatever happens the rattle compose finished the day
if ever whine of joy is given me as a gift
or never hope furious gush in jubilation

giovedì 10 marzo 2016

The last apocalypse by Stefano Donno



 

















The fate sometimes mendacious approaching fast
perhaps to intimate tenderness outrage
to patch desperate whispers and little havoc
playing to simulate the last great apocalypse
to measure the void that attacks and rejects diligent 

but keeping in mind the painful step
in the fleeting moment of raw closed verdict
boredom rejected by force into the dark attic
even if nothing and then nothing less than the whisper
grants swinging scented believe
net cancellation of argument that makes you laugh
the theme of farewell sublimated in motto ready to screech
as persistent wheeze that a light wind chases
for a short time in the dim half-light without peace
where desire and expectation seems shorter scornful

mercoledì 9 marzo 2016

The way of the doubt by Stefano Donno



 


















Underlying fear of restless rummaging in the drawer
i see the right tone circumstance precisely
there were a few uncertain sentence in presuppositional
or even the fiction stock in yielding to the lure in power
no one who discovers the sad and disappointed rice that almost decency
it is never hides for excess of consciousness or to inefficiency
or perhaps for lack or mere dementia
or false merit
but no no one has the audacity of the grant
or postpone the break
quite possibly the attention required
to force the barking mercy
certainly not the failure which dull the mind to love waiting
to anything that lies in forgetting
or cursed pose silly pose that takes hold in the rendering
or offense continues straight at home if nothing can refer
for simple defense
but no no clenched teeth wonders
than is forced to say,
nobody wonders what that anxiety
to run away from the stairs
in the dark like hell for that hiss

macabre almost silent inertin their ears all the misdeedshidden properly or lostbut no no one tries to savor saypetulant sometimes infastidenteindifferent without a shadow of doubt should benefit the missing pieceas if it were a temptation on his lips

martedì 8 marzo 2016

The Seduction of Prime Numbers by Stefano Donno


 














I not seduce not prepare the move
non-law destinies do not produce impulses
tender but not fierce in the silence
not be destroyed but wicked believe in oblivion
not sincere in rather bleak and proud
not wasting no time the secret arrival
no glare deny if i project into the well
i can not wait please do not i see no foothold
no longer inside the soul impetus sinister
not push not to force open but close
untruthful in the coup but tremendous
not silly if the purpose contend
not entirely pain juice drink
if in the night glowing serious use
no abuse not too much about
not the right not the reverse sexed
i do not choose the excuse but I ask forgiveness
not to the martyrdom of nailing
non-controversial in implore suffer
no idleness intent but little follow
the buzz or not in vain white noise
no plane pulled back the hand does not look
made of thick side of the invent breath
not listening step indeed i lose some mourning

lunedì 7 marzo 2016

Black by Stefano Donno

















That black worm and black again
that sinks and dark heart
black if the light does not shine that
black ripping tents forever
black and mind softens
so now black sheer relief
befits the black life that i learn
the black abyss that is poison to look
black huge and timeless black
like the giant black pride in step
light bud black perhaps hope
i do not think most faithful at night
black my heart and please volgio
black love my black my heart
i clarify the mood stand the glare
for a long time held in the snare
and nothing else wonder if that black
and even black for me inside the body
pure enjoyment i feel when I look at the black
black than on me as darkness falls
black for a black oxygen breathing
i suffer a little at least to look
then i fall i laugh and i disappear

domenica 6 marzo 2016

To find out that they are not yet mature .. by Stefano Donno

.


 












Do not you care more for giving me days
months perhaps years, perhaps even he expected of me
and how many trips unfinished for human transits
the sad plots and the memories of today present
as ever become boring to remember
the commitments made without thinking
another simulation of the senses which drag
soul that so the decline does not transform
and if it turns does not lose the regret of the way
not singing the sublime life but only the love my divine
and if transmutes does not color the morning of enchantment.

Further fiction fixity of eternal
end, of death, of pain that dies
of all this silence without dreaming
too much hope in the night full of sorrow
which quickly breaks out and runs quietly
and pays no attention at all to the taste of joy dancing on heart

sabato 5 marzo 2016

God does not play dice with the universe by Stefano Donno



 

















To whisper the wrong dark cypress
the time from the vaporous coils
impervious to track silent farewell
he divides the death of the glass waste
while the rain suddenly slips
imperceptible water jump
the cold sudden blow to the heart
i love kidnapped by force at the end of the day
lost the pain lonely heart
for a moment betrayed in the memory
during the passage of the hours of the days of the months of the years
deletes your secret desires frayed destinies
they know of no fiction

venerdì 4 marzo 2016

The empire of dreams by Stefano Donno



 














It comes out if it comes out the contempt through sign
the flesh and the long waits and difficult to say
the edge without going to another staff
the attack of laughter tired of not fed pain
not offered without dying and without blushing
for the cravings and desires dented at sunset
tired to frivolity dell'osare without style
without that leave behind everything everything
a row behind the other
without concealing or solicit
the failure of forever
without thinking or reflecting on the darkness of our tears
without swallowing moments at the origin of all that weight
without asking and wondering
indeed without ever responding to the breaking of the levees
increasingly tightly that choke
stun they leave to others
the choice of never or after
without being too much to think about it more than twice
to shatter all
without even the absence of justifying the empty

giovedì 3 marzo 2016

Horror vacui .... devoured by worms! By Stefano Donno
















How many times i wanted to choke
the suffocating friction in the throat
the horrible guilt
and for an absurd bill
it builds archetypes and theorems
almost like the sting of the silent return to their seats
often in support of my thesis of inadequacy
i find myself with bullets to the heart fury
asking if anyone could make me weep with joy
or at least leave me a scar
to display on holidays.

It remains the expectation of pardon him shaking lips
the amassing of cards crumbles all my certainty
and if i were to give in to impatience of the incorrectness
finally I know where to go what to dare
before being devoured by boredom worms
or the little light of the time that deludes you that there deludes

mercoledì 2 marzo 2016

Alchemical Abyss by Stefano Donno



 











The embers of your kisses are disappearing stars
obscure the daring that morbid desire perpetual
the impossible lightness of breath between the cracks shadow
assaulting ecstatic peristaltic
the heresy of a careless prayer
for underlying heat to break the flowering
for playful movement spends joy
the boldness of touch in redemption
fattica to perceive the deceit of base money
not to be told or blame anything
otherwise dignity is lost in making tragic magic
without ever denying never be said to look at the abyss

martedì 1 marzo 2016

Cruel Existence by Stefano Donno


















Uses and abuses broken bones and thoughts
in the sea of the night you forget everything
the song of the cruel angels
the discontent of obscene obsession
the existence speed devouring space and time
while the risk in their eyes
detonates in mind small disappointments.

I complain more of my wings lost
the thousand kisses dispersed in an instant
send to air the pain troops
within me the melancholy of curves
the onslaught of what i lost
leave to chance many nights without sleep