"spirito" poems
mosquito
made by
God
con spirito,
buzzzinging
by my
ear
(while birds are singing),
God
made u
& i
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 11:07 PM UTC
i need this listerine for my bad
breath he said, but i knew better
than to give him a quarter.
he begged me with blue eyes
and every puff we exhaled into
the back bay that grey morning.
i’m here to help
i answered him
and i’ve been there-
at McLean in ART, where the girls
didn’t like me cause my music
was a trigger. but
i pulled through, sometimes
on my own, with help
from a court appointed drug group
(even though i carpooled
every wednesday in a baked
out mini van).
i’m here because day after day
i dragged my spinning
body to the toilet, sun dawning,
to spew bright yellow fluid
into the waiting water.
and i’ve hit the ocean floor:
i used to sniff the bowl to make
the ***** come up faster.
i’d say if i get up again in less than ten
minutes, it’s gonna be a rough day
(but yesterday started this way
and i ended it with a beer
in my hand anyway).
i’m here because when
officer spirito dragged my racing
body through the hallways handcuffed,
because of the purses
missing from the locker room,
i still spent the night on the
closet floor rocking back and
forth, knees to pounding
chest, a hollow
voice on the phone saying i’ll be fine
(but i know that ***** cut
with ether and i’m gonna
need a hospital).
i told my sponsor
i wanna get clean cause
dope is taking my friends one by
one like bowling pins, and i’m lonely
cause all my ex boyfriends
are still locked up
upstate. she just told me
to pray to god
(but everybody knows
that prayer only works
in emergencies).
i’m here because that relapse
my first year of college got me
pretty close to death. i didn’t know
i could puke that far and
the emts didn’t know
a heart could beat that fast.
but **** the past
and **** the future. i can’t
say much about the rest
of my life, but i can
make sure i’m sober the rest
of this night. you can get through
centuries one hour at a time, so
since i know what you want it for
why would i give you that quarter?
no response except a drop
of spit hung from his silver beard
like a pendulum, and the smell
of the chicken i left to cook
too long inside that soup kitchen.
if i didn’t laugh, i would have
cried the whole
time that he said to me
i need this
listerine, baby,
i need listerine
i need this
listerine for my bad
breath.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 12:11 AM UTC
How bombastic is the traditional English breakfast, as she spreads her colorful and cardiac enticements across the span of our traditional expectations.
We have far surpassed the golden age of steam, my gorgeous friend of midnight festivals.
Their truly is an eerie silence which is deafening, when seaweed caresses the surface of oceanic intrepidity. So, my brother of anthropological inseparability – kiss the breeze of this powerful and enigmatic mysticism.
I praise the shamanic divinations of Bolivian forests, where entrails are the delight of Haruspex and the Erythroxylum Coca bends her rigid stem on the West face of the Andes.
I have one question to ask of thee: How do we truly interpret Mesopotamian liver?
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
-from Venice: a tipsy gentleman
bursts into song for his escort girl
If I only could admire your feet, forever,
I would pray to live on
and live on - pray, forever.
I know I am not the only one.
So glad to follow this tranquil lot,
these fine and happy admirers,
who bow to pay your offertory.
To join this choir,
these humble connoisseurs
who yield to your glory.
I stumbled, hit the bottom,
today lost all that I possessed.
My head, my mind, my soul -
so incredibly clear now,
ready to follow, eager to bow
for the urge of my heart.
To join this song,
sung in eloquent silence,
turning to the mystery of your feet.
This moment is eternity,
far away my petty desires.
It is perfect time, the only time,
never started, never ends.
If I only could admire your feet, forever,
I would pray to live on
and live on - pray, forever.
No sound, no sight, no smell, no taste -
this channel opened in my heart.
No boat, no lapping waves,
no misty vapours shining in the night -
just the clarity of clarity:
a foothold for us all.
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
Erano i capei d'oro a l'aura sparsi
che'n mille dolci nodi gli avolgea,
e'l vago lume oltra misura ardea
di quei begli occhi, ch'or ne son si scarsi;
e il viso di pietosi color'farsi,
non so se vero o falso, mi parea:
i'che l'esca amorosa al petto avea,
qual meraviglia se di subito arsi?
Non era l'andar suo cosa mortale,
ma d'angelica forma, e le parole
sonavan altro, che pur voce umana.
Uno spirito celeste, un viso sole
fu quel ch'i'vidi; e se non fosse or tale,
piaga per allentar d'arco non sana.
1.2k
nello spirito del vento
amo il cuore e non la mente
parlare con l'anima e non le mani
amare se stessi per quello che sei
amo le tue idee anche se non sono vere
Hai cuore di amore, anche se non si tratta di pura
amo la tua verità
solo che ti amo così si può essere liberi
la verità è la verità
sarà l'ultima
il freno di cuore sarà valsa la pena il dolore
il tuo cuore
il tuo amore
il vostro libero arbitrio
sarà su e lo stesso
Tu ami
Hai detto
si cercano avventure lungo e in largo
solo per dire "voglio nascondere"
nello spirito del vento
Correrò e percorrere la distanza solo per vedere la bellezza nei colori
Vorrei cambiare il mio spirito per tutte le gambe per toccare la montagna
Correrò con il cielo e l'amore grande
(it is in italian.....please dont steal this one this is really personal.)
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
Da te, posso vedere il sole
I segreti dell'amore nascosto
Dormono sotto le palpebre
Perciò raccogliono le folle
Durante la nottata
Mi segue il tuo spirito
Sebbene l'amore non è un diritto
La tua voce sempre è ascoltata
Detto questo non vedo occhi tuoi
Apri gli occhi per chiunque puoi
Perché mi manchi molto
Purtroppo sei sepolto.
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 12:24 PM UTC
Dear Sin,
You have always been but rarely is seen
Your bait, Mr Temptation looks great till you get us jailed
The gate of your dungeon is a thing the world’s heart dreams
At last, alas! The devoted captives you own cry
Dear Sin,
We have walked, talked and worked,
Our times together never are less than a mess
But like the fool I was, I loved you in full
All these while swimming in your pool
Believing the lie that told me you’re cool
Dear Sin,
I call you dear not because you are but just so you lend me your ears
Yes! The years we shared in your bed,
The moments when you clad your lies in your wide smiles
Teaching me lust and calling it love
I followed on till you led me astray and ready to be slayed
Dear Sin,
Alone in my heart you made your safe abode
But Dear Sin, today your rent expires
And the tents of your spies are rend
The deep scars you left on my hearts wall,
I’ve found a healer who’d seal
Dear sin,
I miss how you made a toy of the boy I was
Your lessons were costly; I spent a valuable part of me to learn them.
You made me love the now and robbed me of love for the best
But I'm glad to be freed from the capture of your spirito-myopia spell
I'm dead to you yet alive, the One who once for me died, to serve.
Dear sin,
I’m the captive you lost
But I am the happy son He freed
Now at home, I plead to be alone
Away all days from thee and always with Him
His bruises do more than your vices can dream
I resign and signed for Him my life to reign
Forever, Dear sin, dare me not, never!
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
Con spirito
By days
then weeks
then months they go
Bouncing around in my mind
spiccato
Refrain from hope
Don't trust in those
Markings telling you to go
fast or slow
Allegro or adagio?
Make up your mind and
tell me so
I can come off of the strings
col legno
Pianissimo
to a crescendo
and steal away
in ritardando
Rest.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
ACH-NAH
Gli uomini camminano liberi,
tra il bene e il male,
ognuno guida la propria vita
senza comprendere il mistero.
Il corpo soffre,
l’anima custodisce,
ma non è questo il loro compito:
non sanno guarire,
non sanno rivelare.
Solo lo Spirito conosce,
solo lo Spirito attende,
e quando si risveglia
si fa voce,
si fa guida,
si fa luce per l’anima smarrita.
ACH-NAH non è parola,
è la potenza che apre immensi mondi:
chi l’ascolta
troverà comprensione,
guarigione,
cammino.
Masi Roberto © 2025
---
ACH-NAH (English Version)
Humans walk in freedom,
between good and evil,
each one steering their own life
without grasping the mystery.
The body suffers,
the soul contains,
but this is not their task:
they cannot heal,
they cannot reveal.
Only the Spirit knows,
only the Spirit waits,
and when it awakens
it becomes voice,
it becomes guide,
it becomes light for the lost soul.
ACH-NAH is not a word,
it is the power that opens immense worlds:
whoever listens to it
will find understanding,
healing,
and a path.
Masi Roberto © 2025
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 3:12 PM UTC
It was the Summertime in Amalfi
where sweet
love and sweet wine flowed freely.
In the monastery which
was once San Pietro della Canonica
and now is the Hotel dei Cappuccini
we had cappuccino and then had to go
to
the Piazza dello Spirito Santo
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
Tu, burattino speranzoso,
inutili sono le tue lacrime,
prive di senso,
travolte dal suono del cucù, ora.
Oh pupo,
ti deprimo,
ma leggo in te le stelle
e le ambizioni
che non raggiungerai.
Tu, carcassa macchinaria,
affogate sono le tue grida,
laggiù negli abissi,
natie d’un assassino seppellito.
Oh superbo,
ti disgusto,
ma vedo in te la cenere
e l'onore
che cela la sua paura.
Tu, spirito magistrale,
fittizie sono le tue glorie,
immense e spettacolari,
dal desiderio d’infestare i sogni altrui.
Oh dannato,
ti inorridisco,
ma percepisco in te il teatro
e il potere
di un applauso solo cortese.
Io, universale, infinito,
superiori sono le mie trame,
io che tramuto in lazzi
lo spasmo ed il pianto.
Oh folle,
m’illumino,
mentre distrutto mi guardo allo specchio urlando:
ridi, mostro, ridi!
Ridi, bestia, soffoca nel sorriso!
Ridi!
Ridi!
Ridi!
///
You, hopeful puppet,
useless are your tears,
without sense,
swept away by the sound of the cuckoo, now.
Oh puppet,
I depress you,
but I read in you the stars
and the ambitions
that you will not reach.
You, mechanical carcass,
drowned are your cries,
down there in the abyss,
native of a buried murderer.
Oh proud,
I disgust you,
but I see in you the ashes
and the honor
that hides his fear.
You, masterful spirit,
fictitious are your glories,
immense and spectacular,
from the desire to haunt the dreams of others.
Oh ******
I horrify you,
but I perceive in you the theater
and the power
of only polite applause.
I, universal, infinite,
my plots are superior,
I who turn into jokes
spasm and weeping.
Oh madman,
I light up,
while destroyed I look at myself in the mirror screaming:
laugh, monster, laugh!
Laugh, beast, suffocate in the smile!
Laugh!
Laugh!
Laugh!
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 4:52 PM UTC
Green fingers roll down the hills
Embalmed with moss beneath the fingernails
Scratch marks on the clay path—where his brother lays to rest
Opal blues and hailstones, the colour of his tie, sitting
Loosely around his tanned neck and unshaven collar
Caro mio ben, Credimi almen.
He sips his cup with an assertion of an immortal wedding
Where cane sugar and hydrangeas line his bathtub
With his brown feet upon quartz tiles, he washes the salt that lines
His spine, his perspired forearms are bronzed and leathery
He sobs the Roman chant under the fountain
Nel nome del Padre, e del Figlio, e dello Spirito Santo. Amen.
Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 2:40 PM UTC