Jas was here

This morning a brown face was printed on the cover page of the local newspaper: the usual guy, this time black, but yet the usual sad story ended in death.
I feel bad for it but I can’t do much: we eat watching and hearing bad news on tv, we live in constant drama while our lives go on and we get used to it.
His name was Jasin.

I went to my office and started to turn over the pages of the economic newspapers and like a balloon swelling with awareness, lucidity popped out.
Jasin... Jas! I knew his name only pronounced not written and I didn’t recognize his face on the newspaper. Jas damn! He was little and short when years ago I met him at the gym, the guardian's son, always kind and silent. Jas who played tennis-table with me and who got damn tall on his adolescence that he looked like a dressed lamppost!
Jas who you could meet on the stairs running down to the gym, or in the parking smiling in his white teeth and getting his arm slapped!
Jas who ran away from home the xmas day and who had been found frozen dead yesterday in a building under construction.
So now this sunny day has a reason to be a sad one.

Summer hits

I know it is quite late but sometimes it's too hard to get all the things in time: eventually I even got married and it was a great wet wedding.

Anyway, I went to this place called Namibia and... do you know those things that leave you dumb coz of their amazingness? Maybe this word doesnt even exist, but check this out and you'll have an idea of what I mean.

I should write a report or some kind of helping guide because I found some of them very helpful, but I am lazy and eventually to who am I writing to if not to myself? Anyway if you wanna advices, simply ask.

...minutes later... well I think I also should greet someone who helped me a lot in this, a new cool friend, Andreé ... i dont wanna u thinking i have done it all by myself eheheh ahhh who am I talking to???

Babe

There are songs,
like this,
that reveal memories,
and there are memories,
buried in my heart,
that are born again as tears.

Everything then twists up
Like plastic in a blaze,
While I wrap you up with the thought
Shaping your face,
Now with an emotion
Now with a regret:
Everything changes, disappears,
To show up again new,
Yet already past.

Since years I carry
the mark of your kisses
like a brand on my flesh,
since years I proudly wear
thousands of scars
there where your caresses lingered.

The songs that still move me
And that always and all, talk about you
Are just the gift of a time
That here, eventually, never goes by.

Babe

Ci sono canzoni,
come questa,
che svelano ricordi
e ci sono ricordi,
sepolti nel mio cuore,
che rinascono lacrime.
Tutto allora si contorce
come plastica in fiamme,
mentre ti avvolgo col pensiero
sagomando il tuo viso
ora con un’emozione
ora con un rimpianto:
tutto cambia,
sparisce per ricomparire nuovo,
eppure già passato.

Da anni ormai porto
il segno dei tuoi baci
come un marchio sulla carne;
da anni, indosso orgoglioso
migliaia di cicatrici,
là, dove le tue carezza hanno indugiato.

Le canzoni che ancora mi emozionano
E che sempre e tutte, parlano di te
Sono solo il regalo di un tempo
Che qui, alla fine, non passa mai.

Jude

Here's my vow to you
I'll stay away

A question for u

Why don't u tell me who u are? yes, you! Do it below... come on...

Life

Ah there again all the colors of the world and the notes of the music.

Temple

Everyone says hi but the unspoken subtext is please come back

Galleggiare

Da tempo ormai era tornato a vivere sulla superficie. Affiorato e uniformatosi sbiadendo sotto la luce del sole, il quaderno sul quale annotava parole dopo parole gli sembrava semplicemente insensato. Lontano dal centro, dalle paure e dai dubbi che lo attanagliavano, non restava nemmeno la più piccola ombra della magia evocativa dei suoi versi. Ed i significati erano così evidenti e condivisi che non serviva nemmeno chiedersi quale e dove fosse la realtà.

Floating

Since long time he had come back living on the surface. Emerged and conformed fading in the sun, the book in which he had noted down words after words, appeared simply senseless to him. Faraway from the center, from the fears and the doubts that tormented him, there wasn't left even the slightest shade of the evocative magic of his verse. And the meanings were so evident and shared that it was even useless to ask oneself which and where the reality were.

Mia figlia

Le parole che mi dici
sono incomprensibili
e disordinate
come il volo di una farfalla
in una teca trasparente
ed il nostro dialogo
che si ciba di abbracci e di giochi
rimane appeso tra lo sguardo tuo
e quello mio.

Sono un ragno innamorato
a cui non serve capire ciò che dici
perché sono le vibrazioni a raccontarmi
di sentimenti e desideri
ed il filo che ci tiene uniti
si forma in un bacio,
il tuo respiro
ed un nuovo bacio.

My daughter The words that you tell me are incomprehensible and disorderly like the flight of a butterfly inside a transparent casket and our dialogue that cherish hugs and games remains hung between the look of yours and of mine. I am a spider in love who doesn’t need to understand what you say because vibrations tell me about feelings and desires and the thread that gathers us up, grows in one kiss your breath and a new kiss.

Questions

What am I afraid of? Snow melting? Onion rings? Getting old? Blue eyes? Ghosts? My own self? You?