A bunch of words…

  • Pausa Pranzo / Lunch Break

    Pausa Pranzo / Lunch Break

    Italiano (English below):

    Mentre spreco il tempo,
    in un grigio lavoro,
    obliterando il mio
    spirito deluso
    in cambio del denaro,
    le muse annoiate
    mi aspettano sempre
    a casa, sul divano.

    Strimpellano il piano,
    scarabocchiano forse,
    dipingono i muri
    coi miei pennarelli,
    mi svuotano il frigo,
    si spruzzano i profumi,
    chiedono il motivo
    del perché non arrivo.

    Il tempo che tolgo
    all’arte lo pago.
    Di certo un impiego
    assicura salario,
    però erode le ore
    di ispirati svaghi,
    riducendole solo
    a preziosi momenti

    d’infinito valore.
        
    English:

    While I waste my time,
    in a grayish job,
    obliterating my
    disheartened soul
    for monetary reward,
    the restless muses
    always wait for me
    on the couch, at home.

    They play the piano,
    they maybe scribble,
    paint on the walls
    with my crayons.
    They empty the fridge,
    spray on my perfumes
    and ask the reason
    why I don’t return.

    The time I take
    from art, I pay.
    Surely, a steady job
    secures a wage,
    but erodes the hours
    of inspired play,
    reducing them to
    precious moments

    of worth boundless.

  • (Be)Longing

    (Be)Longing

    I can’t keep up,
    time runs too fast.

    Leaves sprouting,
    turn verdant green,
    then yellow and crinkly
    without me noticing.

    I’m always too busy
    earning my wages.

    Life feels like a pity
    when it’s nothing more
    than sterile labour,
    a matter of functionality.

    I viscerally need
    all my senses pleased.

    I want to run in fields
    with bare feet,
    feeling the earth
    beneath me.
  • Cosmic Walker

    Cosmic Walker

    On a carpet of stardust,
    I walked there from Mars.
    Someone told me that on Earth
    they are constantly at war.

    Everybody surely knows
    it’s just a floating tiny stone,
    so, what are they arguing for?

    A hide-and-seek lover God?
    Borders existing only on maps?
    A sheer illusion of dominion
    nullified by the time that flows?
    A paragraph on history books?

    It’s such a pity that they turned
    a wonderland into an abattoir.

    Indeed I have to tell the truth,
    with heavy heart I hurried home
    before getting fatally caught
    in that nonsensical mosh.

    I’ll just observe them from afar,
    with my mighty telescope,
    in the comfort of my rocks.
  • First Encounter With Aurora

    First Encounter With Aurora

    Oh, Aurora,
    how many people
    keep chasing you?
    It is a riddle
    when your show is due.

    Aurora, kaboom!
    A green light!
    Is it really you,
    this fiery kite
    in the deep blue?

    Shy Aurora,
    behind a thin veil
    made out of mist,
    as a first date
    I got the gist.

    Aurora, alas,
    I must say goodbye
    as day makes way
    and away you die.
    We’ll meet again

    somewhere,
    sometime.
  • A Walk To Uunisaari

    A Walk To Uunisaari

    There are no ships 
    in this harbour
    in this toned-down,
    muffled season.

    Water half frozen,
    as a distant flame 
    lights a sauna
    with a red haze.

    Like life made small,
    concentrated,
    shrinking into a spore,
    to resist the cold.

    Merely dimmed
    but not dead,
    ready to blaze 
    as is spring again.

    A picture suspended
    in space and time,
    a souvenir
    for my inner eye.

  • Botanical Garden

    Botanical Garden

    I see green,
    herbaceous-scented,
    aromatic,
    warm and humid,
    welcoming.

    Exotic plants
    high as the ceiling,
    towering over me,
    modest meat 
    aged for 36 years.

  • Watching People At Oodi

    Watching People At Oodi

    People pass by,
    live,
    hurt,
    thrive.
    Different features,
    same beating heart.
    All gathered
    under this ceiling,
    sinuous
    as everybody’s destiny.

  • On A Bench At Kaisaniemi Park

    On A Bench At Kaisaniemi Park

    A white, calm scene, 
    unsaturated.
    Birds sliding on the ice, 
    slippery.
    Rolling trains noise behind,
    soothing.
    A freezing wind, 
    softly speaking.
    My senses gently caressed, 
    never assaulted.
    My inside is at peace 
    with the outside, and I 
    become one with the sight, 
    the sound, the scent,
    the touch so gelid.
    I am part of it 
    and it is part of me,
    perfectly balanced,
    homeostatic.
    No pressure to achieve 
    or to appear,
    just be in this place and time,
    here and now 
    and nothing more, 
    in the chilling cold.
    My take on Dolce Vita,
    man and nature 
    entwined.

  • Per Se Among Stars

    Per Se Among Stars

    Existentialists 
    on night shifts
    in spaceships,
    under neon light,
    settling that Earth
    is but a rubber ball,
    and we are the sole architects
    of our fate in the world.