Aug 2020
COME VIENE...VIENE!
(WHAT COMES...COMES!)
for Paolo Sandulli
The sun is
preaching her sermon
to the town
of Praiano
that clings to the cliffs
in wonder.
Here in her hand
of light & water
she tells the parables
of pebbles.
One wave waves to another
as she walks upon the water.
Bells undress Time
disrobe her of her hours.
Lemons grow
big-bellied on branches
pregnant
with yellow.
The juice
of the Future
praying in a church
of trees.
Here, a congregation
of butterflies & bees.
Grapes dream of being
turned into wine.
Figs ripen
with pleasure.
The gods of pagan times
survive
disguised as statues.
I only believing
in the religion of
a woman’s
laughter.
And even now
as darkness
grows
upon the rose
it’s as if
the sunlight never leaves
only changes
colour
and the sunlight darkens
only to blossom
into the next morning
in love with Time.
*
This was written for the Italian artist/ceramic sculptor Paolo Sandulli who has a studio in an old Saracen tower overlooking Praiano called Torre a Mare.
His work and his workplace are magical and deliciously fantastic making the mind smile and the soul laugh as he creates a
NUOVE MITOLOGIE MEDITERRANEE
with his love of place and people. Delightful and enthralling.
Check out Paolo's creations at p.sandulli@alice.it
The title in the English version comes from the Italian menu which is the chief's surprise...eh...what comes...comes..ok? The title like Paolo's work amused me so much that it became the poem's name. The dish itself was a pizza with a midrash of everything and anything.
CHE COSA SI FA
Il sole è
la sua predicazione predica
alla città
di Praiano
che si aggrappa alle scogliere
a meraviglia.
Qui in mano
di luce e acqua
racconta le parabole
di ciottoli.
Una ondata onde ad un altro
come lei cammina sulle acque.
Campane spogliarsi Tempo
disrobe della sua ora.
Limoni crescere
grande-addome su filiali
incinta
con il giallo.
Il succo
del Futuro
pregare in una chiesa
di alberi.
Qui, una congregazione
di api e farfalle.
Uvaggio sogno di essere
trasformata in vino.
Fichi maturi
con piacere.
La divinità pagane di volte
sopravvivere
dissimulata come statue.
** solo credere
nella religione di
una donna
risate.
E anche adesso
come il buio
cresce
la rosa
è come se
la luce del sole non lascia
solo le modifiche
colore
e la luce del sole si oscura
solo a fiore
nella mattina successiva
in amore con il tempo.
(WHAT COMES...COMES!)
for Paolo Sandulli
The sun is
preaching her sermon
to the town
of Praiano
that clings to the cliffs
in wonder.
Here in her hand
of light & water
she tells the parables
of pebbles.
One wave waves to another
as she walks upon the water.
Bells undress Time
disrobe her of her hours.
Lemons grow
big-bellied on branches
pregnant
with yellow.
The juice
of the Future
praying in a church
of trees.
Here, a congregation
of butterflies & bees.
Grapes dream of being
turned into wine.
Figs ripen
with pleasure.
The gods of pagan times
survive
disguised as statues.
I only believing
in the religion of
a woman’s
laughter.
And even now
as darkness
grows
upon the rose
it’s as if
the sunlight never leaves
only changes
colour
and the sunlight darkens
only to blossom
into the next morning
in love with Time.
*
This was written for the Italian artist/ceramic sculptor Paolo Sandulli who has a studio in an old Saracen tower overlooking Praiano called Torre a Mare.
His work and his workplace are magical and deliciously fantastic making the mind smile and the soul laugh as he creates a
NUOVE MITOLOGIE MEDITERRANEE
with his love of place and people. Delightful and enthralling.
Check out Paolo's creations at p.sandulli@alice.it
The title in the English version comes from the Italian menu which is the chief's surprise...eh...what comes...comes..ok? The title like Paolo's work amused me so much that it became the poem's name. The dish itself was a pizza with a midrash of everything and anything.
CHE COSA SI FA
Il sole è
la sua predicazione predica
alla città
di Praiano
che si aggrappa alle scogliere
a meraviglia.
Qui in mano
di luce e acqua
racconta le parabole
di ciottoli.
Una ondata onde ad un altro
come lei cammina sulle acque.
Campane spogliarsi Tempo
disrobe della sua ora.
Limoni crescere
grande-addome su filiali
incinta
con il giallo.
Il succo
del Futuro
pregare in una chiesa
di alberi.
Qui, una congregazione
di api e farfalle.
Uvaggio sogno di essere
trasformata in vino.
Fichi maturi
con piacere.
La divinità pagane di volte
sopravvivere
dissimulata come statue.
** solo credere
nella religione di
una donna
risate.
E anche adesso
come il buio
cresce
la rosa
è come se
la luce del sole non lascia
solo le modifiche
colore
e la luce del sole si oscura
solo a fiore
nella mattina successiva
in amore con il tempo.
