* . lui cammina ai margini sui binari al bordo scivolando un po’ incespicando con una lieve giravolta ride sguaiato e ti aggancia con l’occhio . io passo in mezzo a un gruppo assembrato al marciapiede si apre e raccolgo silenzio quel silenzio di gemiti sospesi e forse ha ragione lui . . Filed under: […]
* . four are the cardinal points to determine locations to determine existence to set a path to make a picture whole . each has a pre-determinated position on the compass . cannot wander away . everything moves around and within boredom is not there . on a greater scale they indicate the position of […]
* poetry writing each poems a snap shot for things that happened for fleeting feelings . for things wished for . images of possible impossibilities for cruelty unclaimed and unjudged for actions sore as open wounds for kisses not to vanish away . lining up words as on a drying line shaking them off a […]
Video poetry from the selected poem “This Time No Words”, belonging to the collection The London Hours. Poetry and project Anna Mosca, Editing by Anna Facchinetti, photos by Luminesia (see credits), music by Federico Villa. Poem was posted on July 26th 2012 and can be read at: http://annamosca.wordpress.com/2012/07/26/the-london-hours-2012-41/…
* . I wore a heavy robe the color of night tall sheep boots and a fur hat I looked out there it felt like rain was falling deceivingly . it was the wind shifting between the branches creating an illusion – no rain just icy air moving fast agitating thick leaves . annoying them […]
* . I decided I had to open the door at night and step outside walk alone in the dark at night it had been a long time since I did it last . autumn had fallen with its sadness and abandonments I retrieved in pain and since hardly ever stepped on the ground around […]
* . embers are the end -leftovers- of a big fire same rules apply don’t blow on it . if you want it to die . I called you back days later – after your calls I was calm as a lake . till I heard your voice and my heart believed it was a […]
* . like The Carnival of Saint Saens I enjoyed listening to when I was little from the stereo in the living room . a bunch of voices in my head soar uproaring about priorities I walk around the zoo tip-toeing a dance . . Filed under: Poetry
* . images are but borrowing from reality which needs to express inner pulsions . words are but knitting of thoughts not yet fully born savory ephemeral . . stepping stones are my favorite to advance from the inside out to a nicer view . from the outside in for a more intimate look as […]
* . dotting stains window glasses plaguing monochrome gray gentle wind running between drops incessantly soft persistent i will just linger as underwater swimming . . Filed under: Poetry