domenica 21 febbraio 2010

CANTICLE

CANTICLE

The reason for my time

Fuzzy is the reason for my time, but it stretches far apart.

Rifiutammo the care, not ritornammo on the text, not raddrizzammo the coup
Went well thus: the first coinage was the genuine.


From a distracted chart: "celebrates the truce, armed sides are willing to converge their weapons on
the designated victim." Everything is still conditional. The parties will attempt to heal the wound.
Talking about the draft ultimatum furiously. "Into the night hopes surrender to the irreparable."


Restless is my time, laced of poisons, slow to be.


A long divaricato gaze, a solar, blindness as philosophical only in bright light
blinding or in the density of the dark: ask or answer, "this does not belong to us".


Marks the tragic sbiaditi riaffiorano with force.
Inexhaustible ruthlessness of my time, all the worry that corrupts the desire
that consumes, returns, it disperses to that red more turned on for that stronger wind.


Return always in the same morning in the same river set of lime.


The small population of the elementary poses no condition, not raise no wall, keep the hands
hidden, blowing dust and blasphemy, makes promises.
Keep closed to force the container of waste and gives free rein to the noise of the bowels.
Closes the silent eyes with a legacy of errors and betrayal.


Don't want to do next: Ash off thoughts.


The Earth is preparing to dry the surviving seeds.
We have decided to appoint more things with multiple names in a cluttered lot of definitions,
in this way we believe annexing large territories to silence. But the words are suffering
a previously unreleased tarli invasion while things are resistant, express openly their
discomfort.
Substitutions, game of counterfeiting can still last for long, but can that be a lexical figures without
any possibility of validation indigestion.
No criterion of truth will be paid to a similar sham.


A great light Burns roots to the coming concepimenti, divides this one time grew up next and set
raccogliemmo.


I feel a strange pleasure to consume time, dispel it, sciupare it.
An unquenchable need feast of narratives of unknown images.
I lose time, I cannot betray his slowness, its sluggishness.



It seems that the light in the morning on the screziato wall where disordinate shadows of nodes,
rhizomes
vegetation s 'intridono, s' azzuffano, rumoreggiano, I sazino, and I do not have d ' other.


I believe the intention when stubbornness, many dogs that sleep.
You can not show your hell suddenly, on the night, velvet.


Cercai landscapes, them I try again today, alongside new figures, I leave that dust rapprenda things.


It is a window with the edges of the glass dirty dust and rain, a glass is broken
it firm the two flaps a strip of duct tape, plastic-coated with above the written:
"Let's ° advance".


The flying close an iron with two eyelet stays at two
ends, top and bottom, which is clinging to two twines uncini towards the top.
Outside sees a wicker basket with of laces inside, wires to route the linen
they are broken and black mould. Lower the deposit of a garage with tire and motorcycle parts.
Next the terrace of the Madam rises and falls with her baby to route
linen in the morning and lift it dry the evening. In the lower courtyard of foreign girls who read,
smoke, telephone, playing with the phone between the legs.
At the bottom, on the other side of the gardens and terraces Mrs sleepless that washes the low light
of old light bulb that turn on and turn off, turns and turns off


I cercai, but what still me is a buffed wood from the waves and a stone of blood,
gravel Indigo, venati white gravel color of night venati rose, gravel color periodic
venati fruit coloured, emerald green gravel venati white.


Raccolsi a ferrosa form large smooth picture shaped glande.


Under the pine trees, next to the gardens of the old fishermen, I found a stone, a species of cube
with inside a shot of Tuff and sand, filling the nature has the problem of the filling substance
Assembly to that other avoid the simmetrie.
The iron has taken countless forms by these parties in the Gulf of sand black, ferrosa, fire scolpisce
fragments of a huge lost work.
I try to shape with a hole through which to pass a cordicella and appendermelo
in the with the.


All the things I saw wetsuits in their form, always more distant water for who is thirsty.


Today I heard a light in me, but with this griderò to the event.
I believed in the gift of a new light, a having faith, believing that you brings to gift a light
the sense of a flare that is other than natural, light in the light of the Sun. But I do not want
give it no profession of faith. Certainly has to do with love, with the community of truth, something
that has the ability to overcome despair, desire
the distrust, cynicism, something that heals the blindness in the materico sense: dissolves it,
decomposes it, and at the same time reassembles it, care.


There was always an intense activity of umidificazioni in my residences, together a
intense activity of essiccazioni and spraying.
I have always been afraid close eyes without checking the level of activity
of these categories, together with that of the rumori-adiacenti: sopra-sotto, right - wall



wall left, bottom dietro-in. Now that I knew the author of the noise in the upper left,
in the apartment next to the mine, the above plan the mine, are even more concerned.
Miss is of exceptional size, with on the back of the neck a pauroso bulge which makes it resemble a
bison. Imagine a little you breed of quiet dreams I can do!
Then there are gates, both study and on the other side of the entrance at the bottom to the
corridor. This I can really lock it, but that other is not, with a push you thrown down.
In fact I wonder every night as never has never entered nobody! Of course someone had
elected the entrance as a bed for the l his disastrous, but he was sleeping only for a few seasons
hot, then disappeared into thin as came out of nowhere: remained a bottle of mineral water,
Of the sandals... the EMP sandals?


Human are the tenderness of the Earth, the words which divide and image that reassembles.


Focus of the image is a practice in part of the intention to part of a particular State from which the
intention is totally absent.
The intention is a revolves in a State of dormiveglia in fiction d ' be desti, to be able to take
advantage of the collection, in order to continue to be suspended star and to suspend.
This motion would never end if an even more exclusive need costringesse
choose and define what is only a touch, a suggest.


Many truth have key as many contradictions, the doubt that firm certainties.


This is the time best for me, this quiet the desidererò strongly if anything I miss it,
This room, this table, this lamp, large window to my right, the vast garden
that I can see from the zeppo balcony life and silence.


Road next to advocate dark end, sometimes exchange it with the principle.


As I will say this struggimento?
Sweetness and anguish together.
Burn veins in summer, downloading incandescent veins solar waste
seemed to be free from revisions, now seemed a martyr and his desire more
great sacrifice themselves. But his words were kind, he says I didn't need
media, in my eyes scorgeva a natural joyful hallucination.


The doubt is a privilege as the word. Deny, at times, say.


The lines are just discussed, the language is scanty as the last wish of a convicted person; mention
just, secretive, lurks in the smallest.


A chimera shaping the norm? The chimera disordina, disperses, you lose,
Finally collapses without d ' every standard


The wonderful live more insecure characters of the minute but things fall into the landfill
of the useless in the absolute failure possibilities and functions.


Incessant is marks, to the image stream s ' learning and fuel the fire of ideas.


You disegnai with the precarious cuttings of the provisional.



Because no arcata claimed the flight?
She was born a new chimera: law, often s ' inabissa in the contradictions of sense.
I have the minute things, entries, then I lose.
That call, appoint more emphatically is the harmless innoffensivo widely tested and proved with


absolute certainty.
Wait is not the only thing we can do.
Those scalinate are never turned off, s. Martino to someone stairways to late night live the final


hours of an atrocious agonising loss. Then said: "just watch it at night, don't need another."
Still open, spalancate are ports, but none more lives.
The density of ragadi of fibrous just rischiarate Peel, rounded by the semioscurità


is still nature, all visible instrumentation, everything still serves to something, s ' avvicenda each
for nourishment, the superfluous is composed, s 'annoda to the essential, yet the body s' lit,
s ' hears the noise of the bowels.

It is still small life, casual s ' forwards into the unknown, it is lost, the sky is high sometimes others

pressed against my chest.
No exits the throat, say you need a voice, a response, you need a verb, and assenta precisely when
you most need.


This is rampant among the bodies and flying shots to the flanks is irresistible cargo of the silence.
I felt lost, on the tremavo Reef and there entered the winter. But now s ' was opened one
fracture, a rent in common sense, on a day any as if I could not return
from a suburb which I believed on the borders of the Kingdom, and that there was rather suddenly


immersed,
As in that dirty sea that you rivoltava in its foam off.
But when he designed the Sham? He gave the impression, by all means, cannot not be of these


lands, although nobody thought to their rapid crossing.
But they soon forget precisely then when laugh spensierati around a table
annodano them close to the need to then confuse them, disperse in the vast desert of the elementary.


Impatient generation, belong to the impatient generation, dumb, sbiaditi, redigiamo lists, indexes.
Without anything and we will realise the changes up to assentire sleepers in the big annientamenti.
Finally things spoglieranno words, will bare the wonder and horror: we remain the peaks of resins


besiege the winds.
I will have to strengthen the lines of the face, treat more light eyes.
You Red Earth conobbi, and you were food.


I would be able to remain and nutrirmi, I could say never heard voice. Slit instead signs the first



ways below to slim pianticelle in seppellii and sperdute Islands.


You small coltivai say, what most adheres to the ground, but knows rise and then you find when you
need, perhaps between ruins.
We can star sure that will happen the irreparable? Perhaps already happened!


We are not here to dilute it, downgrading it, deploy it in multiple ways, in multiple forms?


I read the inability to put an end to the mess in our faces.
Now we are very far away, I fear that you delete wounds, who can forget, start again...
Major bridges to ride the sky, not finished, remain as broken limbs: GRANDVILLE
Nothing comes to term.
Annodate are the lives and s ' echeggiano one the other wetsuits and you prohibit one another a


common horizon.


On the threshold

If there is a hint, the produce appropriate,

In addition the decisive moment you are not changed.

There are no more handles.
There is nothing that can scalfirci.
We stand on the threshold, we do not know go back or continue: the launched cry is cleared.


The echo fear, on the edge of the cliff, there are those who, abandoning, nudge the last blow,
shouting the condemnation, embraces its fear, decline, finds himself, finally, unarmed, disbelief
among those that it forced over.


In any province from where does not know, does not want to wrest the roots.
Already before, the outward, wires, veins, recise in order to prohibit the return
Moreover the left to chance.


Although with oil and Mint fasciammo wrists to the pale friend, equally, nuivamente s fell against
glazing announcement (d) a separation inevitable


It is a summer day, that light, those walls scrostati, paintings, anxious, happy, I find them.



"Everything is human", pronounced corded voice, while Frost serrava me knees in front of your
waiver. It is Frost also your, aspects only the end, the recitation has end!
Non-meeting us delivery to a different version.


But you have images I dispersed in deserts love with Algeria d ' a Berber with the blonde Rainbow
on the nape, to live in touch with hands all my predilezioni put bare, my desires, the stealth ailments
of sand and ash instead of dust and asphalt?
As svegliarti in a dream, white terraces and tanks (d) green water of musk and leaves, gebbie d
water warm, with walls of tufa as those who scolpii the Egadi, sleep, tempie najadi before you
vietassero access the old feuds.


The event is always cheated, deteriorates in the usual in the know.


That day I sky accorsi too late, when the buds you piegarono.


Sometimes too tend the body and feel like vegetation had my same fibres.


-"It is that light, are those yellow, abbagliano me and I cannot see, I hear nothing ' other."--"No",
said, "is that wound through the fabric from top to bottom, a wound."
"It is rallying with sweetness those yellow seats at the junction of directions, where slight curvature
of the shadows welcomes ahead it, the case".


Can't I perdermi in the Chronicle, as I had available the Tiepolo whites who decide the distance,
sometimes the remoteness as salvation.


The body not accarezzato assenta.


A wall prohibits me the horizon, a broken antenna annoda the violet of the evening with slim metal
wires.


The horizon is not so far, m ' accontento of its reverbs in the boxes in the cries of the tordi.


A wall corrodes the sky.
From the territories, as peripheral, an intimate conviction back ever.


Our meeting was as the introduction to the cantata for Sun is to items, while the evening inarcava
streets, their be skew at sunset. Saldammo our bodies to the perennial erection of that light that the
doors, the balcony from the large pance to rugginosi Jesuit of iron, which have the root bright
copper knobs carezza.


We combine dreams not sognati with no experienced lives.


This trema intelligence is that the ends of the petal rose.


The moves abyss is more pauroso; the word instead of reassure storm the walls with the uproar of
the echoes.


It is right that my sky s 'gruesome as one of each or rischiari as no man's land?


Curved wind canneto, no date you smoother marks.



You coprii with the welter of guest


When the cry that yourself to fatigue distoglievi led with if the opprobrium d ' each.
Just fixing what that screen, it emerges that disincagliato by me, I fulfilled, sciogliermi from the
nodes.


So Eccentrics of smemoratezza were many mothers, legacy d ' a tense rope.
Beliefs have been wasteful depth?
To time their looks I forzarono to dispose in a confession, not really the irreducible madness


delivered against the white walls of corridors.


This believe suspended to eternal punishment, in the furrows of dust has been plunged to apply
other dust.
You will fester nails in the lover in the lemon annerisce and the salmodiatori of the sacrifice

contribute relics tempie.
Each smile that dies is a fibre that breaks, each irato inquisire makes me a shadow.
Resins grounds granted without comfort, suspicions become today my smiles.
Long stesero on my joy white sudari, praticarono ruins in my courage.


Survivors of the animosity to the rancour of their veins, asfitiche rumoreggiano today in annerite
fumerie d ' sham.
Many eyes for time went in search of victims in the morning, "try uomoni" he said.
White corridors that we are experiencing, rich in theatres shadows, we negheranno exit?


Even precipitated the black more fund intended were to emerge.
Hope in a load of pitfalls massive storm, are those which we in turn threaten leaves and flowers
with the fable of the alternative use of essential oils and resins.


Unnecessary drafting Lunar, build nests in the grafts that raise cateratte of evils of consumption?
Because hard the sorprusio and and the insult.

They say: "every day is penalty and refuge", then infangano the face facing.
Pointless to put it in your Pocket recisa queue dell serpe, rather learn from the festose peaks that
defenceless besiege resins winds.


Evademmo from the embrasure of most divaricato desire, hidden behind the load altarino of
strappate figurines of veline celesti

Those who know give advice?
m ' enchanting this glossy, joyful, grandiose sprovvedutezza.



Wind and dust are fleeing and I am happy to know not where.
Rich were d ' a vast sleep of his sweet daily betrayal.
The train sank always further north, would have liked a more chilly wind on the face,


a great darkness.


We colpiste back, I said nuisance the carefree!
"Let's ° you have time", dicevi, of course, but for a larger hell.
I rivelasti the existence of a wreck, your unhappy heart.
The condemn because it has designed cuts load? Why it has lips well drawn?


Why are large and strong hands and cardiac groin women for the strong waves of desire?
Suspended is his acquittal in the arid and bled lips of an Inquisitor corrupt?
An existence as a refuge and smemoratezza there may be in salvation even in the


rent of one presentita, good target, almost legend.


Is the House of dust as flat around to a name, while below between the forgotten
foundations, the noisy gore irrigate the meagre harvest ' animosity and rancour.
We will always be eternal debtors? No stones that fortifocano the bastions of the continent? With

guilt, with on the call d ' eternal libel in days and nights either purchased or spent?

"" ¡ ° That I was "Let's ° enable contemplation with strong constructive mood."
"Let's ° Sensazion an ancient inheritance dissipated."
"Let's ° your fate is governed by a sky stronger."
"Let's ° too easily assommi, capture the basis"
"Let's ° difficulties of trarmi to the shore, no difficulty rising to the scaturigine."
"Let's ° perfect definition of things, but only in the first, irresistible momentum."


I have noted the gaze of the disapproval feeble d ' one stop
Mortification of the fioriture.
I went to their deaf sarcasm meeting with on the lips a smile without shelter.
Now are all sided on the strongholds of livide, blanked, arid "retro-guardie",
subtract meshes in the chain of favourable coincidences often break the bone of the with the
in the game of getting pretend it is only a game.


But are bad players, have no talent for dice if in addition bad hand-rendered-precision,



a bad disposition for the gesture is clear as the outcome is ridiculous.


Chiesi them of reason d 'so dense network d' obstacles of mishaps,
contracolpi and once again, posing retori d ' a bad prophecy
finsero of confess their commitment was to the massacre of mice and tarme
and the incineration of their well air-conditioned droppings.


Live in muddled, cowardly residences, s 'accaniscono in sterile legal, proud diatribes of mediocre
inventions, minute, copies of copies, witnesses only d' am furious desire for cancellation of
disappearance.


Vibrerà my smile like a mad rope to the wind.


3
Green Fireworks


They have split the thorax to the infamous


cut fingers well drawn to those of the coast, strong fingers argonauti, Slavs, Macedonian, Armenian,
ukraini, kurdi them that were our side
on famelici timber, robbery and violence, those who were always next, those not nominammo, the
thousand eyes as our same skin pores.


The coast was driving beam, already scorgeva the violent notch in the bark, now others are only a
few miles of the island of the wind; rallying salt water wires as white sand between your fingers,
pick the sinews of trying winds unnecessarily
of annodare to a surface viscida, about us lies a law other than that which is falling leaves and
referred account held the constructors of the times:
our precipitiamo, we are fighting the lip against the asphalt to lick the blood that knows of rust.


On the time of the Zisa angels and demons, sapienti joints.
The blue and Red have to adirare beyond where the time s ' bends, where rallying elements
and s ' annodano forces.
Reflected light in the blue water of the moresche majolicas breaks faces and bodies as if cut them
had a knife.
By the time liquid of the learned Zisa joy shapes, the desire of seeds,
their frenzy still s ' annodò on my nerves. Were they, the masters of the Zisa
for me to paint with gold leaf and the sky with Indigo and all that sky, throughout the time respirai d
' a breath
How many times alzammo gaze to touch the time with our shadows, to find someone that we
somigliasse but as tender caress was the quiet days in summer, as a suggestion that still does not
cease, as not creduta inheritance.
We confrontammo with the yardstick of the shadows, cercammo embrace everything we could,
while our eyes dissimulavano mutate presentimenti.


Crescemmo among those walls fissure and dust, where conservammo mummificate, while winds
dispiegavano their wings in the nests of spiders constructors of networks and tarme inventrici of
drops bees powders, in that corner, next to the bed, where monitor magnet d ' a Spire.


Now closed are gardens between the swelling of lime in the morning and the smell of the wet
ground.



We always return to our small desert of light, sound, image as the first ground, the first face in the
small garden of God.


Late father delirava green Fireworks.


It was a miracle man erected against dust
the strong hands and eyes green d ' a woman the departed go
and suffered a tree was meeting, the fragile limbs ramificate in the sky.
"Let's ° you", said, "now see for the first time on the Earth, go what happens to the streets"
go where there is more neppuer a trail, where trees grow until it looks
and all your scguardo both leaf.
Divaricata is this land and you can starvi calm in the Middle surrounded by six. “


Now is there with the storpiato face, divaricata mouth full of Earth,
with blood dried peiferia tissues.
No I am astonished if a sudden life s ' stop halfway through the lip to a forgotten season and there
was no more crazy mouth of the its.
The days the starving, nights injured, "strappatele dosso cables!"
Finally dried this life emptied sense of awareness,
air-dry them with face foreign liquids, induriscano sores,
the adagerò I inside its same cable belly from its seccate bowels
shoots sand desert or simply dust from our poor things.


You t ' immergi and not t ' stop, you asked between sculptures on the day that sell.
Now you are beyond where I m ' seat, voracious are your fingers between the folds of the as
that collects all the nests of the silence.


The light that is cruel for facades accigliate, aggrappate, suspended figures, cost and ridges.


The light that cuts the zolla zanna fende the mystery that plunges below
Unable to apply the vacuum in the furrows, fende margins, dust in summer, enchanted roveti,
shadows among clouds as a soft sky crags


A cut in the shapeless


Only order it irretrievable I Board.


All betrayed lives.


Even larger this that we still dominates more extensively what that confuses.


I want to draw a face like a cut in the shapeless.


my mind of trinate ali on the streets leading to red.


When scolpisco the insect light d ' a lamp and I am looking for a way to motivate the monstrous
with an ear to the news, I aggrapparmi a Nodosum wood, an iron or a face clear.


Dissipato is the myth that we allevò, grow new forms, new textures, a hatched, new from seccate
waste others to come.



Do not recognise still face, not know read folds, as if torn it were text.
Wandering to the coast of the new heroes, dismembered from their lives, all collect what that


unresolved abbandonammo. They have images, them, not turning, have faced another fire, we lead
the unmodifiable know us route markers.
He time who has a single word, a single gesture, a single prayer by reciting, has time who is deaf

entries that confuse has time who is still waiting for the figure who has not designed.
I love red-hot, silent violence sinking, raises deep water.
Alitò wind in the minds of thin membranes.
Dust s ' lifts from the Great Plains, the fates are determined.


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