Solitaria contempla il triste, bellissimo fluire delle acque
Monday, December 15, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Heather Harmon Retired?
Brahma in Slavery
Sarcophagus
Snow White
antique wooden
On one meter of flakes
starts crossing
Four dark figures
and a hundred red roses
- one for every tear from the person who survives
softly cross the garden
E quelle rose, nonna cara
ti coprono, ti avvolgono
Ti profumano
Sigillano
...
Prima che l'anno finisse
Ero come il vento
vestito di pelle nera
Splendevo
di salsedine e di solitudine
Semplicemente
inafferrabile
Le tue dita
tra i miei capelli
L'invito sul collo
while the sky was covered
And surprise
Kidnapping
Remove noise
Wound
Why take your breath away? My lips
Serrate
to wrest a melancholy phrase
and then, again, hurt
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Full Sew In With Side Bangs
Mariscos
Finally I have published the book. It 's a diary written in verse and prose between 2005 and 2007, between Turin and Madrid, my viaggi e la mia casa di fronte alle Eolie. Un piccolo antipasto di mare. Il mio tiepido mondo di sale e visioni. Il nudo della mia anima. 
Finally I have published the book. It 's a diary written in verse and prose between 2005 and 2007, between Turin and Madrid, my viaggi e la mia casa di fronte alle Eolie. Un piccolo antipasto di mare. Il mio tiepido mondo di sale e visioni. Il nudo della mia anima. Se vi interessa lo trovate on line: http://www.kimerik.it/
Cercatemi fra gli autori come Shiva Narquois!
Poichè questo io sono.
Buona Cena
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
How Do I Make A Cake Shaped Like A Bike?
flower gift
Bimbamarea, bimbameraviglia
Ero appena uscito dall’ennesimo colloquio di lavoro.
This time it was the turn of an 'agency of dialogue: that is, people hired full-fledged and paid handsomely to speak. The precincts we had filled the ears of words for three long hours, about every detail of the profession of skilled rhetorician. But if she doth a river of saliva as long as the Serpent of Creation, we'd been less than ninth. Forced to pretend good speakers for a couple of hours we had removed the bridle of the tongue, pulling out all of our breath and talking more daring.
It began to rain. From the porch I could see the light reflected in the drops of water that crowded in the sky. I was sulking with the case quell'evenienza moist and not calculated. However I was grateful di uscire da quell’asfissiante colloquio. Che meraviglia! In due passi, scivolare dalla voce della mia bocca e di quella di tutti gli altri dritto nel silenzio.
Ringraziai l’aria fresca di smog e salii sul bus, diretto a casa, dove mi aspettava un bagno rilassante dopo ore di parlare forzato. Chissà se mi avrebbero assunto. In realtà conoscevo già la risposta.
Appena salito a bordo del 61 mi sentii subito strano. Mi voltai.
E ci caddi per la prima volta. La prima di numerose altre volte susseguitesi nell’arco di pochi minuti.
Una ragazzina mi guardava dalla seggiola. Era seduta vicino al finestrino, avrà avuto sicuramente meno di 20 anni. Forse se arrivava a 18 era già tanto. Madonna, che giovane. I was struck by the way he stared at me: his irises as two drops me nailed to the window opposite. The enamel on the fingers was the color of burgundy, shiny and as just given. I could smell the bristles of a small brush to apply if only I tried.
She glanced with his tiny hands on the mobile phone messages ... maybe. Or maybe he was just stalling while keeping your hands busy, trying to give me a little curious eyes. Next to her a lady of sixty years as he was speaking in Turin during his adolescence. The calm words of another era and you were soft, while the child is moved between a bored look off-the-rain and a sweet, addressed me, I was near the exit.
Two blue eyes. I saw this, unequivocally. Two blue eyes filled with the mellifluous sound of water. Young people the shores were lost in there somewhere. So so sweet.
In the depths of a sea green and infinite.
's eyes were so small magnetic and irresistible call me back my irises and paste to his. Then, as the crack that reaches the limit of a tight rope, I was forced to divert his gaze from her instinctively. And I smiled, slowly, barely rippling the corners of the mouth. I was spontaneous, as if a silent consent had been torn from me who knows what mysterious and ancient commandment. I could feel the electricity
chimica dell’aria prima della mareata. Mi sarei seduto vicino a lei se non ci fosse stata la signora – che in ogni caso svolse in quel momento un ruolo fondamentale. Un’incarico importantissimo commissionatole di sicuro da qualche angioletto proprio per me, che già ardevo in quel fuoco d’acqua spuntato da chissà quale scoglio. Insultando il guidatore con la sua voce roca e acuta al contempo, con un’espressione ottocentesca caduta ormai in disuso, quella signora provocò la reazione della bambina. Che fece un sorriso. Non riesco a descrivere il tonfo di marea che mi è penetrato nel petto, proprio lì, sotto l’aorta. Le mie acque si ruppero: s’infransero contro il bianco di denti. E quelle piccole increspature the corners of the lips pink .. upwards and the tip of his nose still small and sketchy, in full growth ..
How sweet was the intoxication of the moment.
How to stay on top of a sea that opens up under you. Green and infinite.
I looked away and regained consciousness.
Suddenly, the driver informed us that Po was blown away in a gas pipe. We stayed on the bus froze for 20 minutes good. Sexagenary shouted something in the Piedmont and went down the bus. The place next to the china girl was free.
I sat down. I did not want to talk. She was a bit 'watching me-I already described what I felt - and occasionally laughing. However, I feel rather timida, e nascondeva il tepore luminoso della sua bellezza dietro i capelli chiari, leggermente ricci ed increspati appena dall’umidità.
Provai a guardarla da vicino.
Una vampata iridescente, questa volta blu intenso come il lapislazzulo, mi riempì di nuovo. Non credevo che la potenza dell’acqua potesse inchiodarmi così. Che potesse scorrere nelle iridi azzurre di una bimba di porcellana e violarmi le ossa.
Chiusi gli occhi e gustai il sapore di oceano e di sale. Lo scoglio salmastro con appollaiati lì sopra anemoni e pomodori di mare. Lei ora sorrideva di sbieco, più a suo agio, al mio fianco.
Ancora nessuna voglia di parlare: tra il caos della gente snervata dall’attesa e dal traffico nuotavamo two in the sea of \u200b\u200bsilence. Two crabs abandoned to the will of the moon, at his whim. With increasing noise of the tide.
Beyond the abyss. Green dissolved in water depth, infinite
My lips closed.
Its close, but not too pink and fleshy--just enough to get a thrill at the thought of a caress. Undertow salt on my back - and another thrill, just to the sides.
I realized that I had a pen in the pocket of the dress blue. I was probably the frigate to the interview of the dialectic. I picked him up. She looked at their hair behind her ear and smiled at me strange and curious. The beauty reigned serena e senza pietà dai contorni della bocca. Nulla ne era risparmiato. Bellezza disarmante e crudele.
L’ennesimo fiume di acqua salata mi scivolò lungo il collo. Mi venne facile chiedermi se lei era la Luna ed io la sua devota e affascinata marea.
Una bambola di porcellana dal meraviglioso potere elettrolitico.
E risvegliava, risvegliava
Sorrisi pacato. Schiacciai d’istinto il pulsante della biro e le feci il gesto di porgermi la mano. Stavolta provai a resistere a quegli occhi troppo azzurri e tersi e concentrai le mie pupille per inchiodarla al sedile. Dentro di me qualcosa sballottava ma riuscii a non farci caso.
Le rivolsi un invito con lo sguardo. Le sue ciglia mi strinsero nel miele, nel silenzio assoluto. In most pure silence. His face peered, enigmatic, the pen between my fingers, as if wanting to discover the secret. After a little 'fun of hesitation I put my arm.
for the first time I touched her skin. How was smooth. Feverish
I wrote: Where do you drag in the rain? You can play with the sea that you
those injured on those two lines in blue light complexion clear. The lips parted but no sound came out. Only a sick smile: so powerful as to take off all the newts and the boats in the world. A whole underwater world, away with him, into that smile.
took the pen in my hand and said: where does it come out?
I found a really funny answer. I took his hands to touch her with my fingers were warm and soft. I swore that if I could suck it I found the taste of salt led a walk from the shells.
The tip of my pen gently began to affect the soft part of his arm
The beauty of the sea you own, and have the grace of china.
She frowned clear. I opened one by one his fingers tightened around the pen, it became clear that the pen was a nice sitar melodies from heaven, and the two of us, the players chosen by fate-that if I went to enjoy happiness with each other. With the right
settled earring aquamarine. I turned her hand to me and held her, gently. Lei era li, vicinissima a me eppure a suo agio, Ne accarezzò il dorso.
Disegnò un fiore abbozzato ma di un’intensità tale da credere che avrebbe preso vita all’istante se annaffiato con un po’ di pioggia. O probabilmente sarebbe bastata una goccia del suo profumo oltremare. Un briciolo di sale oceanico distillato della sua essenza.
Poi sorrise di nuovo, assunse un’espressione da finta imbronciata e scrisse vicino al fiore: ..i pazzi non vengono fuori con la pioggia primaverile? proprio come i fiori
Non potei fare a meno di increspare le labbra in una smorfia divertita e guardarla in silenzio. In fondo aveva ragione ad essere preoccupata: un po’ pazzo lo ero, ma non era ancora primavera.
The bus stopped. For a moment he closed his eyes and listened to the color of the leaves in October revenue from the doors sit on the floor rubber.
In the silence gave me a kiss. Just on the cheek
And her perfume sublime turquoise me in a time-
His stop is approaching. I could tell from the looks she threw restless sometimes beyond the window. It lifted us a little melancholy on tiptoe to rescue us from our warm dream.
I took her left hand. I drew an eye broken. And as I wrote, treading softly the tip of the pen in his tender flesh of a little girl: I see you again?
She brightened for a moment but said nothing. I tore
for the last time the pen but this time he threw out the window, his expression indecipherable that startled me. Then he put his hand into her handbag heaven. She took a lipstick-shaped pescerosso, with black lettering. I looked down for a minute long. I felt the salt bloom along the face, I climbed up the algae on the forehead and was afraid of going in the power of mother of pearl eyes.
She put the lipstick on her mouth so beautiful. The enamel shone from the tips of his fingers and seemed to want to jump on those lips. He stroked in a circular motion. Then he shook my hand in hers.
In the silence and bowed his head stamped on the back of the silhouette of a sweet kiss. Soft
and salty as the sea.
bringing with it the surf, the warm porcelain girl disappeared from the bus. And from my view. Taking away ancestral memories
water, dragging the tidal cycle
Thus disappeared in the waves of the city in autumn.
So I fell in love with a girl.
Ero appena uscito dall’ennesimo colloquio di lavoro.
This time it was the turn of an 'agency of dialogue: that is, people hired full-fledged and paid handsomely to speak. The precincts we had filled the ears of words for three long hours, about every detail of the profession of skilled rhetorician. But if she doth a river of saliva as long as the Serpent of Creation, we'd been less than ninth. Forced to pretend good speakers for a couple of hours we had removed the bridle of the tongue, pulling out all of our breath and talking more daring.
It began to rain. From the porch I could see the light reflected in the drops of water that crowded in the sky. I was sulking with the case quell'evenienza moist and not calculated. However I was grateful di uscire da quell’asfissiante colloquio. Che meraviglia! In due passi, scivolare dalla voce della mia bocca e di quella di tutti gli altri dritto nel silenzio.
Ringraziai l’aria fresca di smog e salii sul bus, diretto a casa, dove mi aspettava un bagno rilassante dopo ore di parlare forzato. Chissà se mi avrebbero assunto. In realtà conoscevo già la risposta.
Appena salito a bordo del 61 mi sentii subito strano. Mi voltai.
E ci caddi per la prima volta. La prima di numerose altre volte susseguitesi nell’arco di pochi minuti.
Una ragazzina mi guardava dalla seggiola. Era seduta vicino al finestrino, avrà avuto sicuramente meno di 20 anni. Forse se arrivava a 18 era già tanto. Madonna, che giovane. I was struck by the way he stared at me: his irises as two drops me nailed to the window opposite. The enamel on the fingers was the color of burgundy, shiny and as just given. I could smell the bristles of a small brush to apply if only I tried.
She glanced with his tiny hands on the mobile phone messages ... maybe. Or maybe he was just stalling while keeping your hands busy, trying to give me a little curious eyes. Next to her a lady of sixty years as he was speaking in Turin during his adolescence. The calm words of another era and you were soft, while the child is moved between a bored look off-the-rain and a sweet, addressed me, I was near the exit.
Two blue eyes. I saw this, unequivocally. Two blue eyes filled with the mellifluous sound of water. Young people the shores were lost in there somewhere. So so sweet.
In the depths of a sea green and infinite.
's eyes were so small magnetic and irresistible call me back my irises and paste to his. Then, as the crack that reaches the limit of a tight rope, I was forced to divert his gaze from her instinctively. And I smiled, slowly, barely rippling the corners of the mouth. I was spontaneous, as if a silent consent had been torn from me who knows what mysterious and ancient commandment. I could feel the electricity
chimica dell’aria prima della mareata. Mi sarei seduto vicino a lei se non ci fosse stata la signora – che in ogni caso svolse in quel momento un ruolo fondamentale. Un’incarico importantissimo commissionatole di sicuro da qualche angioletto proprio per me, che già ardevo in quel fuoco d’acqua spuntato da chissà quale scoglio. Insultando il guidatore con la sua voce roca e acuta al contempo, con un’espressione ottocentesca caduta ormai in disuso, quella signora provocò la reazione della bambina. Che fece un sorriso. Non riesco a descrivere il tonfo di marea che mi è penetrato nel petto, proprio lì, sotto l’aorta. Le mie acque si ruppero: s’infransero contro il bianco di denti. E quelle piccole increspature the corners of the lips pink .. upwards and the tip of his nose still small and sketchy, in full growth ..
How sweet was the intoxication of the moment.
How to stay on top of a sea that opens up under you. Green and infinite.
I looked away and regained consciousness.
Suddenly, the driver informed us that Po was blown away in a gas pipe. We stayed on the bus froze for 20 minutes good. Sexagenary shouted something in the Piedmont and went down the bus. The place next to the china girl was free.
I sat down. I did not want to talk. She was a bit 'watching me-I already described what I felt - and occasionally laughing. However, I feel rather timida, e nascondeva il tepore luminoso della sua bellezza dietro i capelli chiari, leggermente ricci ed increspati appena dall’umidità.
Provai a guardarla da vicino.
Una vampata iridescente, questa volta blu intenso come il lapislazzulo, mi riempì di nuovo. Non credevo che la potenza dell’acqua potesse inchiodarmi così. Che potesse scorrere nelle iridi azzurre di una bimba di porcellana e violarmi le ossa.
Chiusi gli occhi e gustai il sapore di oceano e di sale. Lo scoglio salmastro con appollaiati lì sopra anemoni e pomodori di mare. Lei ora sorrideva di sbieco, più a suo agio, al mio fianco.
Ancora nessuna voglia di parlare: tra il caos della gente snervata dall’attesa e dal traffico nuotavamo two in the sea of \u200b\u200bsilence. Two crabs abandoned to the will of the moon, at his whim. With increasing noise of the tide.
Beyond the abyss. Green dissolved in water depth, infinite
My lips closed.
Its close, but not too pink and fleshy--just enough to get a thrill at the thought of a caress. Undertow salt on my back - and another thrill, just to the sides.
I realized that I had a pen in the pocket of the dress blue. I was probably the frigate to the interview of the dialectic. I picked him up. She looked at their hair behind her ear and smiled at me strange and curious. The beauty reigned serena e senza pietà dai contorni della bocca. Nulla ne era risparmiato. Bellezza disarmante e crudele.
L’ennesimo fiume di acqua salata mi scivolò lungo il collo. Mi venne facile chiedermi se lei era la Luna ed io la sua devota e affascinata marea.
Una bambola di porcellana dal meraviglioso potere elettrolitico.
E risvegliava, risvegliava
Sorrisi pacato. Schiacciai d’istinto il pulsante della biro e le feci il gesto di porgermi la mano. Stavolta provai a resistere a quegli occhi troppo azzurri e tersi e concentrai le mie pupille per inchiodarla al sedile. Dentro di me qualcosa sballottava ma riuscii a non farci caso.
Le rivolsi un invito con lo sguardo. Le sue ciglia mi strinsero nel miele, nel silenzio assoluto. In most pure silence. His face peered, enigmatic, the pen between my fingers, as if wanting to discover the secret. After a little 'fun of hesitation I put my arm.
for the first time I touched her skin. How was smooth. Feverish
I wrote: Where do you drag in the rain? You can play with the sea that you
those injured on those two lines in blue light complexion clear. The lips parted but no sound came out. Only a sick smile: so powerful as to take off all the newts and the boats in the world. A whole underwater world, away with him, into that smile.
took the pen in my hand and said: where does it come out?
I found a really funny answer. I took his hands to touch her with my fingers were warm and soft. I swore that if I could suck it I found the taste of salt led a walk from the shells.
The tip of my pen gently began to affect the soft part of his arm
The beauty of the sea you own, and have the grace of china.
She frowned clear. I opened one by one his fingers tightened around the pen, it became clear that the pen was a nice sitar melodies from heaven, and the two of us, the players chosen by fate-that if I went to enjoy happiness with each other. With the right
settled earring aquamarine. I turned her hand to me and held her, gently. Lei era li, vicinissima a me eppure a suo agio, Ne accarezzò il dorso.
Disegnò un fiore abbozzato ma di un’intensità tale da credere che avrebbe preso vita all’istante se annaffiato con un po’ di pioggia. O probabilmente sarebbe bastata una goccia del suo profumo oltremare. Un briciolo di sale oceanico distillato della sua essenza.
Poi sorrise di nuovo, assunse un’espressione da finta imbronciata e scrisse vicino al fiore: ..i pazzi non vengono fuori con la pioggia primaverile? proprio come i fiori
Non potei fare a meno di increspare le labbra in una smorfia divertita e guardarla in silenzio. In fondo aveva ragione ad essere preoccupata: un po’ pazzo lo ero, ma non era ancora primavera.
The bus stopped. For a moment he closed his eyes and listened to the color of the leaves in October revenue from the doors sit on the floor rubber.
In the silence gave me a kiss. Just on the cheek
And her perfume sublime turquoise me in a time-
His stop is approaching. I could tell from the looks she threw restless sometimes beyond the window. It lifted us a little melancholy on tiptoe to rescue us from our warm dream.
I took her left hand. I drew an eye broken. And as I wrote, treading softly the tip of the pen in his tender flesh of a little girl: I see you again?
She brightened for a moment but said nothing. I tore
for the last time the pen but this time he threw out the window, his expression indecipherable that startled me. Then he put his hand into her handbag heaven. She took a lipstick-shaped pescerosso, with black lettering. I looked down for a minute long. I felt the salt bloom along the face, I climbed up the algae on the forehead and was afraid of going in the power of mother of pearl eyes.
She put the lipstick on her mouth so beautiful. The enamel shone from the tips of his fingers and seemed to want to jump on those lips. He stroked in a circular motion. Then he shook my hand in hers.
In the silence and bowed his head stamped on the back of the silhouette of a sweet kiss. Soft
and salty as the sea.
bringing with it the surf, the warm porcelain girl disappeared from the bus. And from my view. Taking away ancestral memories
water, dragging the tidal cycle
Thus disappeared in the waves of the city in autumn.
So I fell in love with a girl.
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