Poetry reading at the Göteborgs Stadsbibliotek

It was very exciting to participate in the poetry festival organized by the Macedonian National Association together with the Gothenburg City Library yesterday!
So embarrassing that I couldn’t read my poem without getting so moved, but it is a very emotional text for me.
Wonderful audience and colleagues, I am so proud and happy that I accepted this invitation!

“A sweet fall”, lyrics by Monica Mazzitelli :)

I am specially elated today because Andrea Chimenti‘s new CD is out, and I have had the huge honor of cooperating with him on this album but writing the lyrics to its only English song, A Sweet Fall“.
I have also shot the video to this song, which will be available soon.. In the meanwhile, if you are curious to listen, you are most welcome to do so at the link below, thank you!

 

“Drops”, a poem

One year back:
Listening to the sound of someone
Washing the dishes in Rome.
In New York

Bullet knowing its very way

But early May
Circus removers
Emptied my palms

Nothing compared
Salty shallow mud
After crystal champagne

Did you survive us?
Was righteous right?
Shouldn’t perfect slay it?

Promise-keeper Monica counts the casualties:
two

Where are you mom and dad
Sisterly brother
Secret sharer

Come claim me
I’m yours
Can be found

A poem, “Finis terrae”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A short poem that my friend Angela Doherty revised for me (thank you Angela, you do walk your name!)

Finis Terrae – The end of the World

Jellyfish spat out by the masculine Tasman sea
curled bent
dead thus innocent
turquoise

Beach-fleas bite your harmless transparence
they shall also soil soon

At the end of the world
liquid kisses solid, slaps it
Everything happens far from here
the world rotates around itself
Born
dead
born

At the end of the world
decomposed turquoise jelly becomes water air soil
again
inoffensive ignorant
World is reborn
Earth begins, day starts:
incipit terra, incipit dies.

Translation of Monica Viola’s poem “Cold”

This is my translation of a poem written by Monica Viola, that I like very much…

Cold
By Monica Viola

The cold the jump the embrace
the cold the jump the embrace and the fatigue
of leaving.
Naked because born;
born because
born.
Born I swim
new, every day,
because I must.
Empty I must leave.
Will you receive me in your embrace
when mine ends
melt in a splash without echo and
without love?
Your mercy: freezing me in that instant
where I remain hanging in my flight;
I reject my beauty
all that’s amiss
all that’s been taken
I reject being empty.
I am not content, so I
fly
away
naked
empty.