Sguardo di transito (Glancing through)

By Harpo47 - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

A poem: third part

And the rural dignity? And the air of mountains? And the echo of strokes on holidays? Another history, another land, other times And then… The mushrooms at paths edges, the bush of chestnut trees, the young pine trees, the roads wet with rain scattered with snails sqeezed from viscera… clods removed... Sign in to see full entry.

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Sunday, January 20, 2008

A poem: second part

Hallo everybody, I was out of Milan for the magazine ia am a director. I will be out quite often and so i cannot write everyday. I am missing myself this nice habit but... Well, here some explanations are necessary. Rimini is a famous seaside resort in Italy. In the sixties there was a legend: that... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 11:30 PM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

A poem

A note. This is another long text so i will publish in parts as usual. Here there is a sort of conversation of the same type of a previous text, the end, which concluded the first section. In that case the two were teanagers, here the protagonists are adults. It is common in small towns to have... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 12:17 AM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Saturday, January 12, 2008

A poem

They used to dance ignoring those who in the shadow of the tapestry were changing the music… nowadays' disk jokeys are not aware of this minor pain… they were looking for tenderness without giving …………………………………… Johnny Guitar, Johnny Guitar my darling… ………………………………………… a blind zone separated... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 4:57 AM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Thursday, January 10, 2008

a poem: the whole text both in English and Italian

A note. The poem has no title and as it is very long I will publish step by step and then completely as usual. Here some school memories are mixed up with the free thoughts of a teenager while teachers are explaining. This happened to me in particular during the lessons of history, in this case... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 7:33 AM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

A poem: conclusion

Nevertheless the woodworm was digging yes, it was digging inside the wood, tears were mixed with the ink-pot, clay wings in dreams and then one day, all of sudden the flight, shrieking of left flimsy paper the school caretaker broom, the lights off at last and then the wind… dissolved captivities…... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 5:12 AM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

A poem: second part

And her legs a dream a dream and a kick to desires the foot driven into the mud and kicking the ball the rage a jump toward the sky, then like many bent corollas queued up at the confessionals… but it was just a moment of pause "Latin will set your backs upright!" the shout came back inside,... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 6:52 AM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Monday, January 7, 2008

A poem: first part

A note. The poem has no title and as it is very long I will publish step by step and then completely as usual. Here some school memories are mixed up with the free thoughts of a teenager while teachers are explaining. This happened to me in particular during the lessons of history, in this case... Sign in to see full entry.

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Sunday, January 6, 2008

Back again. Tomorrow a poem. Harpo47 Sign in to see full entry.

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Wednesday, January 2, 2008

A poem

Oh might i at last break the mirror remove this imagine from your body dance in front of you, unknown, and yet friend taking the risk of loosing you, not to be again your tumour but just a separate room, another animal, another way out perhaps, another life for a spring flower… Oh potessi infine... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Harpo47 at 1:25 AM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

About this Blog

Glancing through is the blog made by Franco Romanò, an Italian writer. On it are published essays of literary criticism, poems, a novel, sentences and other, always conneceted with literature. Some of the texts are both in Italian and English; some other only in Italian, but translation of texts of interest may be done on request.

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