I have cried
many times before
once for every reason

but never
in my life
had I cried of freedom

On the white stripes of concrete
In hackney
Wet spring petals
Like a pink
and white cosmos

Of that day we spent together
I remember birch trees (I took pictures of the cuts in their silver bark)
And your shoes on the wet punt (I took pictures of that too)

And I remember that you smiled, excited
I went and bought bananas at the corner shop,
I was excited too.

Then your brother came
and made me feel uneasy
for coming back to say goodbye.

I didn't want to leave, really.
I never do.

Sweet Maya
the house in Median road
is shedding tears for your departure
Flying fridge doors
whimper
and refuse
to be fixed.

I’ll miss you
and your running fairy lights.

Lost on the ***** slabs

of Tenaya Peak,

we sang at bears in the moonlight.

The prusik came in handy in the end,

and the two sixty-metres ropes.



Then,

the lake saved us;

our lips too dry to smile.

Why do you pull me back
again
with a hook piercing my palate

tickling at times

at times unbearable

you have a hive to go back to
you see
with fellow workers
a queen bee


while I
am left in the meadow hovering
looking only
for Myself

The thin air
of the alpine meadows
shortens my breath;
it deepens my mind.

I dreamt I was wide awake.

A veces
me pregunto por qué no puedo ser
una de esas personas
que no se preguntan.
Esas que viven inmóviles
inmovibles.

y yo acá , en Medellín Irkutsk París

qué cambia
qué hago

busco la búsqueda
dudo de todo

escribiendo
en este idioma ajeno

qué miedo
y que placer

y esperando
veo las hojas levantarse
en la danza
del viento que las lleva

Feeling audacious
For I feel
A new feeling

Come avvolta
da una nuvola grigia,
sento il calore del sole
al di là

Mi lascio scorrere
sotto lacrime
di pioggia

E le labbra s’increspano
In un sorriso
Salato

I trust it

I don’t remember my life in London
anymore

Barcelona -
tagliata da flussi di suoni come boulevard*

Stella is gone away on acid.
I trust her, what else?

Nat is Polish
but I thought she’d be Spanish

And Richard.
Young - and  a monkey.

Deepty will marry an Indian engineer.
Wide hips, same problems.

******* Italians in El Born

We cruise rattlesnake bends.

Once in, you
find phantom lakes;
I - a full moon
over mountains of clay.

Sitting at the wooden table
the sun rises to my right
and the mountains become blue
under a grapefruit-shake sky.

My hands are *****. My lips
dry.

Again, I don’t want to sleep
and I lie
awake in the rusty boat

This time
though
there is no fear

the smell of your pillows releasing
endorphins in my brain

That wave
in Catalonia
That almost touches your toes

You don't need anything else
Or anything at all

I dream of dim boats and inspiration
In the evenings, before I sleep.

At dawn,
I am woken by the scolds of tears on my cheeks -
melted lead on my chest

Sometimes I sleep in the afternoon, too.
But it is only in the evenings, before I sleep
That I dream of you.

Do You know
what Brexit is?

When I'm about to check-in
It seems to be some fun to wonder
Will we let you back in?

I've lost my accent
to the rainy days of summer here
Grown paler in the slanted rays of sunlight
I've cried
And slept
And loved on a double decker bus

But all you think -
You say:

You know,
England is my home
Ha! How small, this world!

Then, at the passport control,
If you ask me
'where'd'you go?'
I'll reply:
I'm going to yours.

the hissing noise of a camping stove
people talking in slang
headlamps
like fireflies

I live in the present
but I still think of you

With the sea
You don't need a friend
anymore
No empty spaces
to fill with noise

The coast
And the white foam
Even for a day
Become your lovers

But the salt makes your skin itch

I craved
the solitude
and finally feel
safe
alone in the dark woods

and now I see
bright green moss,
everywhere,
on the bark of the trees

And suddenly I know:
I've been set free!

I know no home
no more.
Clouds on window panes
are forgotten
at night
through the shutters.

Moutains rest on the calm water
bringing flavours of snow.

Flies,  
unwanted company, dozed and silent
walk on the door frames
and die.

The day you left
I thought of you -
all afternoon -
and practicing handstands
I played in the woods

Put your teachings in practice
and smiled
but it was mostly so
that I wouldn't cry

I thought I'd pick a flower
in the woods
and post it home for you

but when I saw the soft bees buzzing
and smelled the lilac scent
I thought instead I'll write a poem
later in my tent

to tell you there's a flower
in the woods
I almost picked for you.

On the crusty darkness of the earth
Città notturne  
come Lava incandescente

Bursting bubbles
With life and movement
as still as the flames of a far away fire

Blink with your left eye
And fasten your seatbelt

E non innervosire
Alle ginocchia nella schiena*
You'll be there
soon enough.

walking
dazed by the noise of my noisy mind
I forget -
there always is a silent background

Of squirrels
climbing in spirals

Of water,
slow
down a cliff

Of roots
embracing the earth

How is it,
that one wants Forever?

At the sight of the rocks
I forget
about bruised hips
and heavy legs.
I run.

The clusters of cold,
granite teeth do not shake
with the approaching of thunder.
Our thin ropes do,
heavy on our waist, sixty metres at a time.

We try to move fast
on the scarred ridge of the giant monster.
His indifference to our suffering – frightening
and alluring. His apparent death –
the essence of life.

On the way back
it is the sight of the lake
that saves us.
Lakes always do.

But not from tears of exhaustion
or sleepless nights on granite slabs.