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Vedo la luce di un lampione,
lì in fondo alla strada.

La vedo dal secondo piano. Dall'alto.

Non la voglio lasciar illuminare la strada da sola.
Non riesce molto bene. Non sembra serena.

La luce non è fioca, ma non è viva.

È gialla, ma uno di quei gialli che non sceglieresti
tra i pastelli colorati.

La strada che illumina è familiare,
ma non è amica.

Non deve esser molto contento quel lampione.

Vorrei potesse andarsene
da quella staticità.

Da quella strada.

Da quel nulla

///

I see the light of a street lamp,
there at the end of the street.

I see it from the second floor. From above.

I don't want to let it light the street by itself.

It doesn't work very well. It doesn't seem peaceful.

The light isn't dim, but it isn't bright.

It's yellow, but one of those yellows that you wouldn't choose
among colored crayons.

The street it lights is familiar,
but it isn't friendly.

That street lamp must not be very happy.

I wish it could go away
from that static.

From that street.

From that nothingness
Written by a kid looking out the window
Lui si atteggia da grande,
sembra che pensi, sempre,
si vede dalle sue espressioni
le idee che gli passano per la testa.

Il suo sguardo si muove veloce,
da destra, a sinistra, a destra ancora,
molto brutti e cattivi i suoi occhi,
solo un poco ingenui, liberi.

Forse ha paura, si vede,
ha le spalle alzate,
un po’ piegato in avanti,
con la testa bassa. Triste. Ma contento.

Ma all’improvviso si trasforma:
si muove come un prestigiatore,
le sopracciglia saltano come grilli,
e tante risate tra il barbone e il prete.

///

He acts like a grown-up,
he seems to be thinking, always,
you can see from his expressions
the ideas that pass through his head.

His gaze moves quickly,
from right, to left, to right again,
very ugly and evil his eyes,
just a little naive, free.

Maybe he is afraid, you can see it,
his shoulders are raised,
a little bent forward,
with his head down. Sad. But happy.

But suddenly he transforms:
he moves like a magician,
his eyebrows jump like crickets,
and lots of laughter between the ***** and the priest.
What beautiful creatures lives in this world
Windy winter day,
You walk alone in the white and gray.

I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.

A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.

Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.

Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.

And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.
This is a letter I found sitting in a desk drawer of an old house in the Genesee river country. Or at least that's how it reads.
on a stage, guitars strumming a tune that
can only be hummed, for it has no verses
the songwriters, their tongues entwined,
joined as one, they can speak no words

but the crowd roars its favor,, sheds its de light, stomping and whooping it up, making
all the necessary noises, of two tongues, yes’m, entwining

kinda like a kissing, a little of hissing too,,
got its own rhythm, even the noises rhyming,
a rock n roll ballad with country western
mixed in, some say it sounds like Joan Baez
singing **** Jagger, or an Avett Brothers
serenade

words need tongues for formaytion,
tongues needed to speak, but absent
a common language,tongues do what
tongues do best,
intertwining, combining, licking,
making love noises that requires
two to be
heard
fulfilling
taste of two
blending
and we
though
silent
pronounce
ourselves
as one,
the loveliest
unspoken
vocabulary
Ariannah Oct 2024
Remember when everything was fine
Never thought about you being mine
When I had the courage to look in your eye
When it wasn't scary for us to spend time

Remember when I couldn't take the hint
I found out how you felt 'bout me
And the promises didnt turn out to be-
And then you came up looking at me

Looking at me, looking at me...
The hints..
Stephen Knox Sep 2024
When looking for God, the things seen are that.
Always a top, any perception I’m at.

Step into his shoes and he steps above.
Feeling what’s left, an abundance of love.

Kicking the tires, on this giant of a me.
Pulling out ideas, of how it’s all meant to be.

Walking held high no longer stumbling around.
Showing my true self, without making a sound.

Doing my best and giving my all.
Opening myself, for that love comes to call.
George Krokos Aug 2024
The mirror we look into always has two sides:
one is a mere reflection while the other hides.
_____
From 'Simple Observations' ongoing writings since the early '90's.
Always keep your eyes open,
You never know, what’s in your path ahead,
Your trail could lead you far, or the end could be dead,
Some situations, will be cool, others hot, and you’re clothes,
You will shed.
Other days will be slow, and hard,
You may move, like your pants are full of lead,
After a long night, you might wake up confused, finding yourself,
Laying on a stranger’s bed, it’s normal to make mistakes,
Then you feel like, kicking yourself in the head.

An active, curious mind, will entertain you, many hours,
On different days, many things will be confusing,
Just keep trying to find answers, someway,
There will be moments, you want to relax, and go somewhere,
And play.

Some moments, will seem perfect, everything, will go right,
Everyone around you, will be helpful, and stick together tight,
Other times when you’re awful hungry, even the food you don’t,
Really like, will taste good, to the last bite.

                                   The Original: Tom Maxwell ©  04/19/2024 A.D.
Brant Jul 2023
After all this time I'm still looking,
Which is good,
Depends on what you're looking for
And how long you've been looking,
Unless you've been waiting
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2023
Snow falls heavy on head of Earth
Weight added as this mighty rock spins
Might be spring according to the calendar
Icy powder covers the dancing tree limbs
March choreographing slow routine
Time taken to feel sun's warm glow
Movements meticulously placed
We patiently wait for greenery to grow
Each morning rises giving way to new roots
Relying on heat that stays out of sight
Looking forward to the colorful weeks ahead
Good weather to melt the frozen cloak of white
Why is it snowing outside? **** Alaskan spring...
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