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"trr" poems
Viene il freddo. Giri per dirlo tu, sgricciolo, intorno le siepi; e sentire fai nel tuo zirlo lo strido di gelo che crepi. Il tuo trillo sembra la brina che sgrigiola, il vetro che incrina... trr trr trr terit tirit... Viene il verno. Nella tua voce c'è il verno tutt'arido e tecco. Tu somigli un guscio di noce, che ruzzola con rumor secco. T'ha insegnato il breve tuo trillo con l'elitre tremule il grillo... trr trr trr terit tirit... Nel tuo verso suona scrio scrio, con piccoli crepiti e stiocchi, il segreto scricchiolettio di quella catasta di ciocchi. Uno scricchiolettio ti parve d'udirvi cercando le larve... trr trr trr terit tirit... Tutto, intorno, screpola rotto. Tu frulli ad un tetto, ad un vetro. Così rompere odi lì sotto, così screpolare lì dietro. Oh! lì dentro vedi una vecchia che fiacca la stipa e la grecchia... trr trr trr terit tirit... Vedi il lume, vedi la vampa. Tu frulli dal vetro alla fratta. Ecco un tizzo soffia, una stiampa già croscia, una scorza già scatta. Ecco nella grigia casetta l'allegra fiammata scoppietta... trr trr trr terit tirit... Fuori, in terra, frusciano foglie cadute. Nell'Alpe lontana ce n'è un mucchio grande che accoglie la verde tua palla di lana. Nido verde tra foglie morte, che fanno, ad un soffio più forte... trr trr trr terit tirit...
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L'uccellino del freddo
All living fears have me dead in my feet, Obscure; seems be the journey too fretful to take, So as quickly as I start, I quickly retreat. An outstanding trend,—a show on repeat, On the screens of my eyes; blank as the static dancing on your fingertips. Before doing an action, A question of, "can I really do this" I stutter my words before a speech in normal conversation, I I trr-rryy not to chew on the words stuck on my tongue, So frustrating; that the point of topic lost it's concentration. But of course,—the confidence of pretend is louder, Than the shyness of the wisdom I still keep silent, Would they listen to me, as youth to old? I truly do wonder. I'm afraid of love; of that I may not find, I'm afraid of commitment at times, Solely in the thoughts of fearing I won't provide, So by the divide; two sides are of searching for love, Or letting it be as is; whether found or not, Perhaps as hopeful to truly believe all comes from above. I'm afraid of time; that I do not have or waste, Likewise having so much of it, to have nothing to do, Perhaps as ticking over the time, my toc is out of haste. I'm afraid of myself; moments I don't recognise him, When I do more than I expected, or less of what I hoped, Doing his level best, but his best is always at a whim. I'm afraid of dreams; those I may not fulfil, My head is filled with them, unlike the successes at hand, Which dream comes true, seems to be by God's will. A thrill at times, but a chasing heart out of a breathless chest, I have many targets in life, my goal is to only stand out of the rest. Will my fears be immortalised, to leave me traumatized, Or will I find my bravery to survive?
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Jun 16, 2022
Jun 16, 2022 at 2:44 PM UTC
My fears
All living fears have me dead in my feet, Obscure; seems be the journey too fretful to take, So as quickly as I start, I quickly retreat. An outstanding trend,—a show on repeat, On the screens of my eyes; blank as the static dancing on your fingertips. Before doing an action, A question of, "can I really do this" I stutter my words before a speech in normal conversation, I I trr-rryy not to chew on the words stuck on my tongue, So frustrating; that the point of topic lost it's concentration. But of course,—the confidence of pretend is louder, Than the shyness of the wisdom I still keep silent, Would they listen to me, as youth to old? I truly do wonder. I'm afraid of love; of that I may not find, I'm afraid of commitment at times, Solely in the thoughts of fearing I won't provide, So by the divide; two sides are of searching for love, Or letting it be as is; whether found or not, Perhaps as hopeful to truly believe all comes from above. I'm afraid of time; that I do not have or waste, Likewise having so much of it, to have nothing to do, Perhaps as ticking over the time, my toc is out of haste. I'm afraid of myself; moments I don't recognise him, When I do more than I expected, or less of what I hoped, Doing his level best, but his best is always at a whim. I'm afraid of dreams; those I may not fulfil, My head is filled with them, unlike the successes at hand, Which dream comes true, seems to be by God's will. A thrill at times, but a chasing heart out of a breathless chest, I have many targets in life, my goal is to only stand out of the rest. Will my fears be immortalised, to leave me traumatized, Or will I find my bravery to survive?
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