After a Time

After a time
The ridge began to make sense
And so the region and so the far outreaches.
And after a while
It all came back
Fell into place
And the shouting, and the frenzy,
And the freezing rain, and the hailing storms
Ceased to batter my migrained soul.
There, I started crying,
and my eyes stopped seeing for a time.
Then came the sun, and the sea was rough, howling against the stony walls.
I walked awhile, lost in thought and deep enmeshed in a soul-less dreamscape, lonely and lost, without you there by my side.

tu lieve

Tu lieve ci porgi l'ultimo sguardo
Il soffio che stacca l'animo dal cuore
Le nostre mani mai più lambiranno
La fresca foglia la dura roccia e la grigia sabbia.
E chi di noi dopo di noi vedrà e toccherà,
Sentirà freddo e poggerà la nuda mano sul corpo fermo,
Sentirà il mare e il sole dentro se'.
Possa la dura pietra tornare a vivere come la rugiada
Che scivola lenta sul muschio verde e sulla roccia,
Toccando fiori e volando via col vento.

individuart!

nuovo progetto cui aderisco, la mostra di Sulmona che comincia il 15/12! Vi prego visitatela se potete!


http://www.artit.it/mostre_zoom.asp?immagine=public/1178_0.jpg&ID=1178

ecco il link per i quadri:

http://raffaellacantillo.jimdo.com/

ciao!

un pensiero per Vanna

Con cordoglio apprendo che non ci sei più. Mi manchi già, i tuoi commenti, la tua forza e la tua ironia. Grazie Vanna per esserci stata. Raffaella

yet again..

'The Twisted Gap'


The twisted memory of a thwarted book,

The sickness and all,

Just wishing for forgetfulness,

Crossing along uncrossed and cloudy roads

In my unclouded universe;

And meanwhile the dreaded interval

Grows wider, and frightfully deepens inside me.

Depending on the day, we may laugh or simply smile,

Or cry and shout in anguish, pain, or simply stare out of unbroken. annoyed boredom.

You can't scramble, foresee or clik-unclik my dreams.

You just can't fill the gaps which are to be left empty.

wrrrrrrrrrrrite..

'Turn the other cheek'

We must make amends one day,
and build our fences, skip through the hard times
and ease ourselves
steady and ready on the easel of our time.

Steeling ourselves, even,
to face the grin and the grim,
the bleak and the bright,
and skim past it.

Still, I would love you, and you me.

p-poems..

'Desired'

..but don't you think

that I may perhaps be entitled

to fury, rage and anger

and that all the things

that you said

that i should or shouldn't do

are in fact the things of life

that dreams are very little to do with

and that life is really us?