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straccaganasse


rain over this two-bit

over the weaknesses of ordinary people as well as my spirit

out of time than the moods

beyond the clouds over the conceivable

a melody that soothes
whose notes
calm apparent
wrap
voluptuous ecstasy of chaos

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Zeitgeistige


born
then
fraternizing between hyperbole

suns and moons to escape from a galaxy falling

beyond matter
produce ecstasy
itself out only

back of his mind and
the back door of a feeling

the unconscious beyond all perception
the incongruous sound of

who understands that he just learned he will not know what

never

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tin

solid delicacy
your
with an eye to demolish

illusions built into the air
space of a winter with its passions

rough and angry sea

near the bottom of the time did not want to stop


to go back when everything was silent
it were not for my voice


dissolved as wind on the granite

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Nails Atlantic

If there was something that the captain could not stand were the hubs Marrison with flip-flops and non-commissioned officers who bite their nails. But unfortunately for Captain Marrison on that ship were enrolled Carpenson brothers: John and Matthew Carpenson respectively hub with a passion for flip-flops and non-commissioned officer of the navy, known in the chronicles of his village for a surgical reconstruction of nails.

To appease the anger caused by these two morons, Captain Marrison drowning his seasickness in alcohol. That's right, Captain Marrison with behind quattromilatrentadue crossings, five hundred forty-five naval combat, fifteen medals for military valor, and three gold stars of the Crown, he suffered from seasickness. A secret that was revealed in his life only to a person, during the First World War, while pulling the trigger on the temples was the general Shwairstel, an army officer of the Kaiser.

Marrison While the captain was on deck, sipping his Scotch whiskey aged 30 years the brothers upstairs Carpenson arguing heatedly on the English Football League. Matt believed that Manchester United was much faster in the attack and prepared to Liverpool which is lacking the necessary imagination. John believed that Liverpool instead retained a healthy proletarian spirit which gave the Spartan force capable of breaking any team, " They have balls of steel those of Liverpool. "

Captain Marrison futile tolerate such talk in his ship, he said that the spirit of a sailor in the sea breeze is like a man when it falls off a cliff. To relax the strings of a troop is necessary to calm down with the trivialities of everyday life they know. But he, the captain Marrison, exhausted the taut strings of his soul through a hobby that he brought with him for years, namely from his first journey by ship, it was 1890, he was 16 and found better things to do to prevent fears that cutting the nails of the feet and hands. But when you finish the practice, though conducted calmly and slowly, had to surrender to find another job that made him calm, so that was started to build a ship of nails. Now 35 years after he had arrived near the end of the work he had completed the entire body of the vessel, the trees, below deck, the bowsprit, even benches and chairs were decorated in every detail, was still missing the latest sail and mainsail . He was proud of his great captain Marrison Nail work that kept all his adventures, his loves, his defeats, his wounds, betrayals, battles and victories of the navy 35 years. A novel full of nails. A life in that sailboat.

morning the sun was shining High on the boat at the mercy of the Atlantic as commander Marrison went out every morning to breathe the invigorating air of iodine. While walking on hold while he noticed the sergeant Matthew Carpenson tore the middle finger of his right hand a thin flap of nail. At the sight of Captain Marrison, unroll the tongue, brought lightning right hand to the hat, slammed on his heels and with a grimace of the mouth spat out the tab. " Hello Captain! . The eyes of the captain Marrison is inflammation of blood, the eyebrows are lengthened up to tap the hat, and shouted from the depths of his stomach to NCO Carpenson " Damn! How many times must I repeat I do not tolerate that on this ship is disrespect to the nails! She and all those like her flesh torn from these poor creatures when they are still in its infancy, weak, defenseless, harmless, for what? To spit on the floor, almost like a waste of life, a looming presence to be ashamed and get rid of. But you know what? What are your nails to be ashamed of yourself! She does not even have the slightest idea what heritage they represent the nails, she is not worthy to bring her nails, another ripping "and so saying he approached her face still and dripping with sweat, trembling, drew from his pocket his left hand from which he drew his little finger, the root a deep and sharp nails, a knife protruding from his hand that also kept for 35 years, since that fateful day when he decided to save that one finger to the tragic beheading to honor all the nails and give them the right to dignity and the right respect. Stroking his face frightened the captain whispered Marrison " quest'unghia knew in that instant the blood and the last breath of Mustafa Baku Hanim, an officer of the Ottoman Third Army, and when they sank into his flesh, the captain confessed Hanim it was an honor to die of that noble weapon, after hearing his story. NCO Carpenson Well you will not be worth doing a fine Similarly, because your blood can not get the honor of knowing quest'unghia nor to share this honor with that of the brave captain Hanim. " So saying, she pulled her nails with a hair survived for shaving. " Be careful! .

Marrison The captain took two steps no more safe, drops to the floor and picked up the strip of nails sacrificed, then went back below deck and with the utmost seriousness positioned in the ship, to make a flag on top of the mast . "Your early fall was not in vain, you mean the redemption for all those who are your own end early. Show everyone that you can be on the cusp of a vessel as well as a small nail with your pride and waved to the sailors will show the wind direction, the route to follow . A tear gleamed across the face of the captain Marrison, hard heart, mind gloomy as that of every sailor tempered by the sound of the sea, but inside the shell was still room the groans of a fingernail.

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sound oud


the sentence of a love

dissolved in warm rivulets of habit

hungry
gold rush of all chimeras
in search of an identity

around the corner when in fact the heart

between vague impressions and emotions
violent

simple in appearance as each new day
that appears after dark
busy make a mysterious nighttime

otherwise insipid

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details
small nuances human
losing
sull'ottuso
experience only goes up and down


clinging to a swaying sky
veiled intentions
driven by unrealistic goals
increasingly distant
less defined
always want
climbing
dall'agile
flexible stem
left to die in the sun