Io! Maestro dell'essere,
mente a scacchi,
pronta a muovere la prossima pedina
con apatia e ordine. Ordine.

Non implorerò, mai, di avere
un nuovo paio di occhi
che non vedano in bianco e nero,
magari solo meno ingenui, idioti.

Ormai non mi vedo più nello specchio:
spalle, alzate.
Schiena, inarcata.
Capo chino. Pietoso. Indegno!

** già tutto quello che mi serve:
mani di pietra e velluto,
una fronte, rugosa, che parla,
risate tra il folle, e il nobile. Nobile.

///

Me! Master of being,
chess mind,
ready to move the next pawn
with apathy and order. Order.

I will, never, beg to have
a new pair of eyes
that do not see in black and white,
maybe just less naive, idiotic.

I no longer see myself in the mirror:
shoulders, raised.
Back, arched.
Head bowed. Pitiful. Unworthy!

I already have everything I need:
hands of stone and velvet,
a forehead, wrinkled, that speaks,
laughter between the madman, and the noble. Noble.

rubble, not that kind
seeing as to you reading
what
i
wrote,
you'd be surprised
it is not a weary writing about a weary life.
i can see you think that
haven't i told you to think that as much as
i have told you not to
or not, maybe you got so much molten erupting self inside you too
that you don't think about me at all
even if i use a lot of i
don't pity me
for i shun myself ten times as much
just so it does not weigh on you
anyway rubble, yes, what kind though
the laundry done looks like rubble
that is the kind of rubble yeah
as a kid i used to bury myself inside of it
not to come out though,
just to stay in
i wanted to be under, it was quieter
the world smelled clean, safe, moist
is that how it ought to feel
i loved women who made me feel that way,
a mix of slightly damp, slightly dry,
smells of the sun and smells of wetness all the same
they were also always heavier than me but they did not like it
i wanted to get fat for them so they will like me
but when i did get fat
i was ugly and sick in ways they never fetishized so i kept loving them skinny
because i always anyway loved like i was starving
they complained i am too lean for them and maybe that is one reason they didnt like to be seen with me
for cameras that is
in my memories they marked the images though
of me worshipping them
the slaps, the spits, the spats,
i felt oh you poor thing, i can’t help you, but i tried

Running fills me with feelings,
Excitement of moving.
A sip of fresh air, sunrise lightnings on my face,
That's enough to change my way
The way of every day,
Just keep the pace.

taste the light,
Just like a sip of cinnamon tea,
Let it penetrate,
It's been in an 8 minutes journey,
to reach the window of my soul.

Time is ticking, and I try.
Try to do something...
Maybe the way is the other way!
Letting go, clearing the way.
Letting things happen naturally.
Like a flower blooming in the sidewalk opening it's way.
Not out of forcing, only because the bed is rich enough...

Blind
A frustrated mind
Sees nothing.

A positive aura from your side
When the day
craves the young night.

Don’t rebuke where you are
Don’t rebuke your slight.

In the orb of Arbiters
Surrounded by.

Perhaps human life
Is a flock of birds
soaring through the sky

Perhaps the human mind
Is like an unearthed
Exciting thrilling science.

"Will I make it?"
the heart cries.

A thousand tries,
yet I fall.

"Should I lower my expectations?"
it whispers.

"No, it's not over until you win,"
the mind insists,
like night cradles the sky;
light will come soon.