My favorite gangster of them all was Charles Salvatore Lucky Luciano from Sicily

He was also a philosopher...

"Never do anything to attract attention to yourself!"

Very wise indeed if your break this law you become unlucky...

A teacher: The Villain and the Hero
One inspiration, one true motivation  
That one person who gives his powerful students  
The right direction
That one teacher who fights for the future of others
Who finds success in the success of others
That one person who further form a teacher
Is a human-being
He might seem like a villain to some
But he is a hero to others
He is my hero

Picked me up from the gutter
Made me strong enough to deal with
X equals A to the second power multiplied times two
He is that one teacher who taught me how to leave problems behind
And solve equation easier and faster
That one teacher who became a role model
The perfect inspiration any student needs
His way of teaching the concept  
His way of giving us the chance to be teachers our selves  
That way of making us the main importance
His way of giving us our place in his class room

Taking possession of our minds and changing them to capable ones
Making each and every one of us students who can solve anything
He expects a lot from all of us, He expects a lot from me
He gives me the challenges that I can handle
Gives me a chance to prove my self
He taught me that X is just a variable
That X is the solution
That you should not be afraid of the variable  
That the solution is hidden behind the other factors
That lesson I use in my daily life

I'm not afraid of any problem in any subject
Because he taught me how to deal with problems
And when finding X was hard,
He was there ready to answer my questions
As I walk away during lunch  
I wish him a good lunch
But what I'm actually saying is
You have done a lot for these, your students
Now give yourself a break and do something for your self.

He might just be an algebra teacher
Or a staff member at Riverside University High school
Or just Mr. Sepulveda, to some people
But for me he means more than that.
For me he is a hero
That can travel the distance
And can fix any problem with time
He is the Hero who inspires me  

He is a teacher
Whom I admire greatly
Not for being a teacher
Or being at Riverside
I admire him because he made me strong
In Algebra
In my problems
In life  
And now In my poetry

You sometimes are the villain
For giving me a B in a test
But you are the hero because for every B
I get another challenge  
And I know that with your help
I will get an A in Life.  
You are the Villain of my mind
But the Hero of my Heart
Thank-you Mr. Sepulveda
Written by: Estrella Luciano
For: A true hero
P.S. I still think I deserved an A on that one test. ;)

The crystal rain needs the golden sun
To make a rainbow
'Tis only when the two are together
That the colored arch is made

Drop by drop water fills the ocean
Together, the ends of the sea flow
From place to place

The soil in itself will never grow trees
It needs nurturing by elements
Their gentle grace

And we are each angels with just one wing
How will we fly
Unless we fly together
Holding each other
In an embrace



Inspired by the words of Luciano De Crescenzo

"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.”

La vida es un viaje. Nunca me esperaba una caída en el amor conmigo, y yo con usted. Fue tan inesperado y tan salvaje, pero estábamos amor. Fuimos luz, fuimos a través, pero estábamos juntos. Una parte pero nunca sperated. Éramos jóvenes, infantil, absurdo. Hemos sobrevivido unos a otros, se puede sobrevivir a cualquier cosa y cualquier persona. Nos conocimos a cabo coinciden, y lo puso juntos. La vida es un viaje. Para el fuego sigue ardiendo brillante, y se ilumina los caminos seprate que están destinados a viajar. Pero ese fuego, que quema, que el calor .... siempre voluntad y un día, quemadura por nuestro amor. Al igual que el sol. Este es mi viaje. ¿Cuál es el tuyo?

~ Estrella Luciano and Natalia Torres (my spanish family)

I love powerful quotes.
Here are three I found
In Pamela Rae's profile

I found them to be
Quite true in my own life

“We are each of us angels with only one wing. We can only fly by embracing one another.” ~ Luciano de Crescenzo

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”― Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Leave the past behind,
Cast it out of mind,
Relish what you see
For it soon will shape,
who you aim to be.”—Joe Adomavicia

No os espantéis, señora Notomía,
Que me atreva este día,
Con exprimida voz convaleciente,
A cantar vuestras partes a la gente:
Que de hombres es en casos importantes
El caer en flaquezas semejantes.

Cantó la pulga Ovidio, honor Romano,
Y la mosca Luciano,
De las ranas Homero; yo confieso
Que ellos cantaron cosas de más peso:
Yo escribiré con pluma más delgada
Materia más sutil y delicada.

Quien tan sin carne os viere, si no es ciego,
Yo sé que dirá luego,
Mirando en vos más puntas que en rastrillo,
Que os engendró algún miércoles Corvillo;
Y quien pez os llamó, no desatina,
Viendo que tras ser negra, sois espina.

Dios os defienda, dama, lo primero,
De sastre o zapatero,
Pues por punzón o alesna es caso llano
Que cada cual os cerrara en la mano;
Aunque yo pienso que por mil razones
Tenéis por alma un viernes con ciciones.

Mirad que miente vuestro amigo, dama,
Cuando «Mi carne» os llama,
Que no podéis jamás en carnes veros,
Aunque para ello os desnudéis en cueros;
Mas yo sé bien que quedan en la calle
Picados más de dos de vuestro talle.

Bien sé que apasionáis los corazones,
Porque dais más pasiones
Que tienen diez Cuaresmas con la cara,
Que Amor hiere con vos como con jara;
Que si va por lo flaco, tenéis voto
De que sois más sutil que lo fue Scoto.

Y aunque estáis tan angosta, flaca mía,
Tan estrecha y tan fría,
Tan mondada y enjuta y tan delgada,
Tan roída, exprimida y destilada,
Estrechamente os amaré con brío,
Que es amor de raíz el amor mío.

Aun la sarna no os come con su gula,
Y sola tenéis Bula
Para no sustentar cosas vivientes;
Por sólo ser de hueso tenéis dientes,
Y de acostarse ya en partes tan duras,
Vuestra alma diz que tiene mataduras.

Hijos somos de Adán en este suelo,
La Nada es nuestro abuelo,
Y salístele vos tan parecida
Que apenas fuisteis algo en esta vida.
De ser sombra os defiende no el donaire,
Sino la voz, y aqueso es cosa de aire.

De los tres enemigos que hay del alma
Llevárades la palma,
Y con valor y pruebas excelentes
Los venciérades vos entre las gentes,
Si por dejar la carne de que hablo,
El mundo no os tuviera por el diablo.

Díjome una mujer por cosa cierta,
Que nunca vuestra puerta
Os pudo un punto dilatar la entrada
Por causa de hallarla muy cerrada,
Pues por no deteneros aun llamando,
Por los resquicios os entráis volando.

Con mujer tan aguda y amolada,
Consumida, estrujada,
Sutil, dura, büida, magra y fiera,
Que ha menester, por no picar, contera,
No me entremeto: que si llego al toque,
Conocerá de mí el señor San Roque.

Con vos cuando muráis tras tanta guerra,
Segura está la tierra
Que no sacará el vientre de mal año;
Y pues habéis de ir flaca en modo extraño
(Sisándole las ancas y la panza)
Os podrán enterrar en una lanza.

Sólo os pido, por vuestro beneficio,
Que el día del juicio
Troquéis con otro muerto en las cavernas
Esas devanaderas y esas piernas,
Que si salís con huesos tan mondados,
Temo que haréis reír los condenados.

Salvaros vos tras esto es cosa cierta,
Dama, después de muerta,
Y tiénenlo por cosa muy sabida
Los que ven cuán estrecha es vuestra vida;
Y así, que os vendrá al justo, se sospecha,
Camino tan angosto y cuenta estrecha.

Canción, ved que es forzosa
Que os venga a vos muy ancha cualquier cosa:
Parad, pues es negocio averiguado
Que siempre quiebra por lo más delgado.

Grow win groan… mark off/28jul2022, upgrades check…
I  said I would, if I believed I could, gain, that actual
ever interest turning every fifty years, on unpaid
Jubilees among the feeble minded,
all of the people, some of the time.
- Interesting times, since ever I was aware
- compounding mistakes as hates, oy vey
- Travail, travel, wanderer drawn away
- Covid positive
by an un-listed wind,
an anomoly
on a nano
scale
- not that either, I lost count, yes
weight as value - {always} a war making ideas heavy,
salt thirsting from inside the wall, the system
makes the body drink so I may think, all is well
with my soul.
Weight-wise, I am alive,
worth then is measured
in might as might may prove choice of - el, yes, well
el, we all nod, we find the sound early to disting-wish

so. way say it, we are right our way, we drink
from our own wells, tanks we make, when we may.
We save on the surface the sheen, squinting eye tech
see in snow pieces of eight,

right
-- self assembling nano tech with a
built
in
programing language. But, I add, in my mind
but, on or off- but on, in breath
the living things are
running programs
built. Built in ifery ever, if the system forms,
the system must be activated or nothing occurs
to you to
bring
life
--- I'm not clear, is right conscience or conscious, with use
of science sense signals set
to know
when
intentional design is a tribe ID-word.
- we designed this thing we are in, or on, or about/
- maybe
(rules against saying intelligent design rule the teacher,
not the peacemaker, being minded to know all the magi-tech,
and more, when it comes to rules
in love and war, life,
per se, ain't fair.
Pay the piper and the mind that tuned the whistle
in my denture
to this peculiar signal)

morought-othephic resonance vector infection- Þ
check
genome editing crisper- thorny issue
check
Þ
humanizing pigs, honest.
craig ventor lifemaker?
He is known
for leading the first draft sequence
of the human genome
- using a mind formed after the bomb.
- there is a mark in time, for each first time.

tools, yeast synthesis, is this a war?
Physical war being planned
against our eukariotic soul mother, brother

is this
from Wonderbread,
an antibiotic problem or mere remaining wrong ideas?
Is it like…
cancer - or Chaucer in the shade, as the lackeys towed that
barque, 'n'**'st that bale, bo andoncha know
nobody steals a $400 bale o' good Montana hay for no reason…
there was a needle in that role,
a piercing maddening cross-referrent occurrence implicated
as interference pre'ferencing prefer not all you wish,
pre-referencing the author's op-own imagined experience…
meaninglessness is hard to market.
- I already read the writing on the wall metaphor
- I know the names I'll find, I just
- can't remember those two.

---checksums all the way down if/then/else
find a way to live.
Identify the man you were, read him in.
When he's his old, he'll seal the exploit.
Cancer decides, for itself,
that's all I can make from the confusion here,

there must be some kinda way outa here

You recall, said the Joker, to The Thief
meaningful work.
Guiding to death.
Shall I solve your meaningless ness, or my own?
Or might I

find the meaning built in,
that black box with the built in
programing language that
Singularity University guy said is so important,
the built in
programing language that
is so important,
the built in
programing language that
is so important,
the built in
programing language that


… interest, drew me, what drew you?
compounding
Life. Me, too.
Divine interest in life, especially the mortal aspect,
as pertains to life and godliness and all,
that came with this acceptance
of dominion, within the bubble I am pre-pressured
with somewhere
- so excited- jumpy-ohshit-spot
- runs
between plumb and puredy **** sure.

Having entered again the as-if realm, that m on the end of real

means money maybe maybe not knot ex-acted
see
a door? a narrow way few see? mmmm
Follow or flee, ennui, as for me,
I believe I've heard treasure is truth.

I dare be, yond all I ever knew, to make answer-able
prayers. I be for no other reason my reasonability
allows, but to trouble the water and watch it settle
- silver screen in the thymus meme-ory device
Sno-globe meditation technique, practiced in secret since…
who knows, but crystal ***** did do something.
People can look at sno-globes for ever,
and never grow weary of the novelty.

For some, simple is good, good is simple.
God is light.
Where light is…not
nothing is.
Evil thing in my mind, you have been certified nullified.

Wind war? I inherited the wind.
I know why the broad Sargasso sea is so still, willo'mywinds
whisper
Peacemakers come from homes troubled in the making.
The fecting up of the Peacemaker, protrudes
effective peacemaking is more
preclusive
unsettling,
Dear Rhea rumbling at more
pressure boiling for her to loose some
air.
Cultures sharing antibodies for old evils.
Once the evils men imagine are exposed,
refreshen the air. Take another hit,
message accepted,
we can handle those
acting-as-if the losers won,

but none need lose, for life, per se,
in the realm of mega-we,
life is seen
most precious by all men.

Some men may dare to despise their own flesh,
(despise means not look at, spek means look at, in many tongues)

however,
never shall life despise some men and look kindlish at others.
Salt, be salt, water, water, you, you
-insert Markov blankness
life has proven itself in you. Be or not is not the quest.
Go, be more alivening, is the quest.
Be a little leaven, a viral bit of peace,
just past understanding,
well within reach.

Be alive, and where you live, make peace so life may
may -be empowered to- make peace so life may
dub thee Troen Ridder
truth-be-told, teller
maker-of- peace so life may
increase abundantly good forever
for no better reason

than if you had your own way we would be friends.

Search for a video of sanctioned war in germ terms
eleven days from minimum

survivable dose MSD

to total ******* and

destruction of both sides, unless
the bubble of all they have learned can be

pressurized, from the insides,…
Thanks, yawn. stretch, sneeze
Pop.

I heard about Alamogordo. Thanks for that, too.

rightnow. what does fear of not knowing a known

feel like, suffering wise, scale of 1 to 10?

How about (odd phrase, eh) we suffer, instead,
the fear of the un
known

Nova Sanctorem sorta stuff. Book learned
spells mispoken by orphans

sifting through the ashes of all that went before,
enchanting, if one child finds a drum,

safe from the fire in the secret place,
child strikes the drum one time

wait
echo

Did your home place echo?
During day, or during night?

In my desert, it is both.
- go to where stories lie at rest.
With this drum and my echos,
we may finish your migration

Walk a mile with me, let me help you
with your bag,
your thing, trip, scene

Remember then?
Enchanting times with different echoes

Ancient, old as dirt, snake clan secret
extreme mental challenge trials.

Now. What's the missing or broken
ness you all are murmuring

how about? May I?

May I understand comprehension of perceptions
in the interest of interesting times,

which, when I was told that

"may you live in interesting times", is
alleged, an Imperial curse,
which, first,
by then, I had all ready taken if-that for
granted as good will toward me.

I considered it diligently
I sought the sweet influence of Pleiades,

I did. Lucky Luciano and the Polish word Lekka

Luck is a factor if luck is originally
onto logical epi stem strateg-ic
clear light, magi-tech-wise.

There is evidence. The rocks bear my significance
-in 2022
If I can, try sign if I can, and no sir not can sir
but breathe sir
censor, sweet sense or else

the most benign of the self-righting models
to embody
the six spins in one bubble.

could stumble and fall and have no means to right,
get the signal, right itself, per se,
if wrong fail of function better next time…ping
we wer- yea, verily ver-ifity confirmed
it-ify-ing evil, first
really.
Life in mere terms,
words live here, we know
Intentional wrong precedes right
in my experience of living while waiting for you.
but once you have a grip on evil
as a thing in your own realm,
under your dominion;

then, don't miss a wink.
sleep tight, don't dis-integrate and wake up crazy.

When Ezekiel saw the model, if he saw the model,
he'd, he 'ould have been well and truly
amazed, aclaimin', in awe, I saw

"wheels within wheels within wheels bubblin'
bib-lin' bubblin' in my soul"

banjo and fiddle, painful for an orphan
yearnin' to learn ttdrr drum that drum

My drum. The drum I found in the secret place
I knew was there, after the fire.

-----
Ah, Christmas, the message with its own,
built in medium to grow in with no competition.

The least suspected are all infected.
That Usual Suspects, all those sick social memes, as if

the war of numbers was a game for cannon founders

Krupp and whom, Red Shield in the ghetto?
I don't think that makes
all the sense in the world.
who was Warburg…{question or mark of timing}

-- we had things between scenes, glyphs, right
let's have a gliph,if we edit- I am this-Þ, as an after thought
Þ is the th sound among certain ancient tongues,
deafness separation and blind singers grown wealth in wine.

The act has formed another wedom,
and we have joined them on fi, okeh, fi-semper
in fiduciary, and rests, in truth compressed
Trust. On the dime
flip. Truth rests.
On this page again, a different me,
indeed, as different time, I'm
certain, fluidity of space, currents

swirling up three dimensions, six ways
measured from now at the center, once,

now at the edge, stretching one point,
to a pivot,
turn around and wonder what we do,
we mortal watchers, consuming life to live…

questing questions ion-
state, condition, or action, quest
quaerere "seek, gain, ask"

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=quest>

Can you think slowly? I can. Several volumes back,
we, discovered Jello-timespace, blinkable
and rubbable dry bubble eyes, murine
is accessible, state conditions or act

as if I were a maker of peace,
on the grandest scale,
would I fret living
for no reason
but one I made up, from bits of others,
made up from matters cogitated to troubled
state conditional actions
made up, fantasized, built to imagine going past,

a mountain of a man, big bad Yohan,
mean, mean, mean man,

I mean it, always.

6-19-2022 2200
- not so long ago, then
Father's day, lotsa laughs,

little error allowed, the fineness,
sorting racist fear from awareness,
the culture does produce to patterns,
common genetics, tend to produce
select models of all the options,
over and over and over again,
a loss
a complete misconception of my reason
able faith, applied, no lies, only big stories,
yes, I cannot remember what was real
and what was what I would have done,

then I remember the gun, I did tell that
guy with the gun
to stop. And he did.

Then the other guy, the one with the
shot gun, he has in my face,
and I am ready,

see, I say, to me today, I am ready

if I were you, you would think nothing
p-- I am too
tired and slightly drunk to care,

of course, the course is parseltongue tested,
listen, hiss, you know, the warning,
I own this space this time,
the serpent says to me,
I laugh and stomp it,
I made that snake,
it was not real.

You know how I feel,
daring, don't give a dam
gonna do another show,

rock and roll reality, believe me,
we have the Sisyphus's, happy
engine wound up and ready,

but Sisyphus quit.
Got to the top and said, that's it
I quit.
And time stopped in that sector.

Go look.
Nothing changes and Sisyphus
is happy as Hell to have nothing to do.

I want something cooler, reader five,
blackbandit-double-ought shot
pick a sigel jelly sidgil  sign damint spel chek
you know what I mean, magic it sigil -right
I guessed that.
My son in law cringes at my cultural crassness.
I think jews come in more recognizable patterns
than cultures that abandoned the marriage restrictions.

"At least --- did not marry a ------" Oy, right, mix race,
half-breed
race as a what, eh?
what we weigh is race, we do not know,
they said we know, but we don't so, no more, race
is a wrong idea,
not right.
The flavor, the leaven and spices and plagues of
cultures, idea - a we of one earth
- call Covid leaven,
- we all been co-leavened
- we all share simbionts,
- earth is our home and our calling is to be good.
- Spirit inspire expire ssssssss
that is a people, idea that shapes a people
cultures, symbiosis chimera are we, carriers
post all we all survived, we are carriers of all it took.


Quiet, the ride, holy silencio, yohan let it be son,
grow old and burn your pages/
slow skip staged events…

Okeh, from the beginning I am the auth-oth- or that
maker up, of my faith, author and glosser, shiner, finisher
on elements at work in melody and har,mmmmoney
echoes, eeeee
we agree, that is no reason to dare see it so,
we are all, by nature's god, double-minded,
doubt not is a trick of the trade,
ɤ thistledo-find a phoneme that fits kid
unify, un yonder run un if un if un if I die I knew
you know, knowing good and evil, was the plan,

nothing was a secret, once in a life time you may know.

watching a TV broadcast
with Luciano Pavarotti
singing an aria
about a unique woman

     dedicating it to Lady Diana
     who is sitting in the first row

     a lovely and appropriate compliment

she died in the Paris car crash
not long thereafter

Roy Orbison was no Luciano Pavarotti, but then Luciano Pavarotti was no Roy Orbison. Born in Nowhere, Texas, Orbison had an inauspicious musical beginning. He was shy growing up, but got a guitar at an early age. He drifted around tiny towns as he tentatively began his career and over the following years signed with several different recording companies. He remained extremely self-conscious as he slowly gained some success and wore dark-tinted glasses to allay some degree of his unease on stage. But in the late 1950s and early 60s, Orbison made it big, so big, in fact, that his songs went to the top of the charts in the U.S. as well as Europe and Australia. But by the mid-60s with the musical invasion from the United Kingdom--ironic though it was, he became close friends with the Beatles who admired his talent and songs--and the dramatic culture-change in America, Orbison's career and his popularity waned terribly. It was not until the 80s that Orbison experienced a grand resurgence of popularity, which pleased him so. But he did not have long to enjoy it. He died of a heart attack in 1988 at the age of 52. He was buried in an unmarked grave.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

The stars need the night to shine
How perfect the velvet midnight under the dazzling stars is
How pleasant it is when we notice not only those that shine.

The rain needs sun
To be allowed an embrace to its mother nature
Only when they are together
The children of the earth endure.

Plants cannot bear fruits with only roots alone
It is when all its other parts share the work together
From Earth's gentle bossoms
life  blooms.

And we are the kind of halos that cannot soar alone
For each of us is an angel with only one wing
And we can only fly
By pair or more  if we embrace one another.


Inspire by the words of Luciano De Crescenzo

"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.”

you can really only begin critiquing a movie, beginning with the soundtrack, and, my my, wasn't T2 such a pleasurable follow-up.

you ever noticed how you can't look
at a moon, cross-eyed,
   with only one eye?
      a debilitatingly obvious fact,
when i started integrating into english
society, i said to myself:
make sure you know the sewers of
this city of tongue,
make sure you know every nook &
cranny, make sure you can speak
the native, better than the natives...
i think i did a fair good job,
   after all, english speakers think that
english is a difficult language to learn,
not to a bright-spark aged 8,
this other italian kid, fat as a doughnut
didn't bite into the tongue as rapaciously
as i did...
              and so it went:
synthesise the acquired for about 20 years,
and then analyse it later...
       my my, what a kinder surprise it
ended up becoming!
     but have you ever gazed at the moon
cross-eyed? suddenly you become
no more the *polyphemus...
  you start looking at the moon cross-eyed
and suddenly two moons appear,
  the optical lambda stops working,
             what once was Λ, become a V -
      and you really get to see the world
of polyophemus' father: poseidon,
   because everything almost looks submerged
under water...
                              V
                        ­      Λ       two in 'ere,
two up 'er,
                           almost like the sunset on
tatooine...
          and always that persistent guilt over
"ooh the bad n- word",
      oh sure, besides the fact that i befriended
a 60+ year old ghanian grandfather in
the off-lice, once upon a pumpkin-carriage
tale time ago, and i always end the conversation
by a handshake that involves to of mine
and only one of his...
        so i feel this much . of "despair" /
                      "responsibility" when using
a toothbrush... *****, i ain't got beef,
but cut some slack on the shifty every changing
nature of urban slang,
     ***** might just mean: a shady individual,
and if i can't say nigh-jer (niger),
what am i going to replace it with, nigel?!
        if that's offensive, then i think we really
did a pish-poor job at slaughtering each other
or making ***** films...
     obviously we need to crank up the heat...
tell you what...
   you know what the "holy roman empire"
shifted a tad bit to the east,
and involves poland, former czechoslovakia
and hungary?
             first of all, the languages are a bit hard...
and not everyone speaks english
like they do in the benelux or scandinavia,
that's for starters, but the poles received two
great gifts from the german people,
first the marienburg castle given to us by
the teutonic crusaders of the north,
and second of all...
  auschwitz-birkenau, majdanek, auschwitz zwei
(they're intact, and can be quiet easily
reponened)...
i can't even believe i managed to translate
english black humour...
    i thought some things were never
possible...
     william burroughs in his book
    the cat inside talks about the SS training...
the initiation into the upper ranks of
the SS was to gouge out the eyes of a pet
cat after feeding & cuddling the cat for a month...
to eliminate the pity-poison and mould
the complete übermensch...
  then he goes on to say how he would never
hurt a cat...
               these sort of people,
the ones that value animal life over human
life can actually become the foremost conscripts...
with my ginger quarus?
  that ******* annoying luciano paravortti?
that qat qaeda who ***** in peoples beds
and deserves a smack?
            give me half an hour,
a bottle of *** and i'll tell you once the time is
done...
      but you see... the german have
actually provided gifts...
  these sites are deterrents...
   and if you travel to warsaw in december,
and land there, and walk outside the airport...
you might as well fall it scythia...
           feral lands, i know i've said this before,
but i've just been rewatching commentary
videos from 2015 / 6 events...
      i've stopped identifying the reality of:
it's only real when i've encountered it,
and: it's just a media coverage when it hasn't
happened to me...
             and sometimes i just end up
drinking and writing something:
completely mediocre, since i know it's
provoking some sort of hornets' nest of emotion,
and that the only redeeming part of this
exhausting effort (due to its mundane
subject matter) is the optical diamond -
for the most part, we peer into the world
with two eyes that are so calibrated to be effectively
synchronised, convergent,
     looking at the convergence point,
clearly indicates that when converging,
   the eyes diverge, and are actually parallel...
i have absolutely no idea how
   this happens, the whole: looks upright
but then translate to the brain is actually
upside-down is one thing, but that's the vertical
aspect, i mean the horizontal explanation
of the eyes... how, even though they are
placed at a parallel, they actually manage to
converge, whereby polyphemus' one
is as good as our two...
                i don't have the resources to explore
of given an answer in concreto,
                     just one guy,
having a drink, looking at the moon,
                                                   cross-eyed.

A small drizzle
Emphasizing that it' is
The remnants of a heavy downpour that had lashed
The road

Water going down
The slopes getting together
To merge with each other
As it is Its character

Walking down the *****
Trying hard to contain the legs
Loosing balance as it lunges
Till it finds its level

A woman walking along
Dressed in white
Shirt and a pair of jeans
No other soul in sight

Saw her on the descend
Handled it like a ramp
Gliding to a waltz
If a Rolls Royce had walked

Gazed at her
Drizzle treating her equally
Not partial to her although
She adds to the rains beauty

Drizzle showed its stripes
Deluge using it as a pawn
Rainstorm in its true form
Looking for cover my last thought


Her walk in the middle
Looked like the rain fell in love
Followed her where she had to go
Realising that she too walked slow

No hurry to beat the rain
Every time she crossed het hand
Across her mane
Divine forms both met on a slippery lane

The scene from a film
Antonioni would have filmed
He'd have one job less
The frame he would have found was already perfect

Just captured it
Filmed for eternity
Wouldn't want her beauty
Wasted on a memory

My thoughts would
have run wild
Not this time
Didn't want to waste time

Why think about her
A romanticised future
When she is here
Just enjoy how she adds to nature

Wanted to grasp
Into my heart
Every step of her walk
Rain splashing on the road giving room for her toes


The rain continued
To tango with her
Trying to keep pace
To her beauty and grace


Whispering in her ears
Humming she couldn't hear
A medley it composed
Downpour set to a tune

I watched knowing
Something special was happening
Picturesque like a Van Gogh
He wouldn't have cut his ear off

I stood still
As she walked up the *****
As easy as a snap Zeus had clicked
Framed on a wall in Mount Olympus

Reached the top
Knew it was the last
A sight to behold
Wrongly presumed though

She wasn't humming
The humming birds were flapping their wings
Sending signals her trust to gain
To not trust the rain

She stood for a second
Turned back with a smile
100 million bucks won't win
It for you
If Sotheby's were to auction

Walked down the hill
Rain the birds and rest
Standing still missing a beat
Flapped harder to fly the rain stopped leaving to dry

Michelangelo Antonioni directed  called on by the Cosmos
Captured by Luciano Tavoli
Decorated by Van Gogh
Score by Nino Rota


No spoken word
Not a silent film
The words lie in the beauty
Captured by the silence
That was absent

Seeking her she is lost
Rain and the birds knew it all
I evidenced it  to narrate to all
How do I put it in words for i am at a loss