Through the street of Kreuzberg
or the Unter den Linden, Berlin
you see it only next to the old postcards
put on the rotatings of the souvenir shops,
to the books of photography thumbed at the bookstalls
without any purpose of purchase,
to the wrinkles of few people walking by or to the matt
studs of some punks.
Everywhere you look, all is fresh built
otherwise you can assist to a Friday night
dressed with the work of labours
perfectly able to get tired.
In front of a bureau mirrors, you see
a young red army soldier just shooted
by a sniper hidden on the next building
vanished years ago, and you distinguish
the missing shots on the doorposts
of the opposite street door
survived longer than the adjoining streets
and other inhabitants.
On the Potzdamer Platz the first traffic light
of the world stands over, or its copy.
A demonstration of the socialist government
is waiting there for a nazist parade to cross by
late for the burning of some white books
still unread.
The traffic is directed by a young american officer
from his look-out standing in the middle
of the no man's dust – here he sees:
the Kaiser William II Hohenzollern going into
his favourite hotel suite
opened on the street by the bombs of the years to come
surrounded by women whose name
he has already forgotten
while from the subway of the U-Bahn
– right next to the Hitlers’ summer bunker –
dozens and dozens of people are coming out
which are not thinking:
«That was east. That was west».
Torn down in a moment
the walls cannot be left
everyone brings a single little brick
colorful painted and interlocking.
Out of space
the city can be reassembled
only in time.
Originally posted in Italian on May 12, 2008 at 0:54
Mu
Two messy eyebrows
one little childhood scar.
The skyline on the sand
and four drops of green tea.
So one writes blank.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Berlin, in time
Friday, May 9, 2008
Bonus tracks from For whom the lights stay on
These days I’m posting some poems which I placed under the label «For whom the lights stay on – bonus tracks». They are poems which couldn’t be included in the index of the book published in December, some because they weren’t yet completed, some because there was simply no place left. However, they could have easily been included in the project of the book, and that’s why I consider them as a sort of unreleased bonus tracks, which you can now read in the blog. Actually, there is a section which is more involved than the other ones by these new pieces, and that is other homes (altre dimore), which consists only of three poems in the book, and which is evidently a still open section. In fact, some of these pieces was even written and conceived just recently, and I worked on them right these days (for example the last posted poem, and another one which I’m going to post soon). These pieces keep on writing the story of my nomadism and of my love for the city, the only cell of social aggregation which I seem to recognize.
Originally posted in Italian on April 18, 2008 at 20:11
Friday, May 2, 2008
Notes for the rent of a flat in Vienna
Converted loft, fourth floor
40 square meters, two rooms
with bathroom, kitchen and entry.
Both the room, painted white
and orange – in good state – are about
the same size. Enough for a double bed,
the cradle, a cupboard and a night table.
In the other one a desk or a table
with some chairs and then a sofa,
better if with bed inside, for the guests
which came from far away or stayed
later than the last bus home.
A stereo system could be put in there as well
with wooden speakers and a case
for vinyls and cds.
Not furnished then, maybe a one
and a half bed will be left and a little
television table too. Not the washing machine.
The windows, with north exposure,
give all onto the inner court,
not really big, but silent:
they let inside the light and the shadow
of an old deciduous beech tree.
The ones of a room and of the kitchen
open on the sloping roof,
not much, actually, yet the snow
slips slowly on them in winter.
The one of the other room is without jalousie
instead and it would wear well a blue
curtain to be closed also during the day
sometimes, without turning on the lights.
The bathroom and the WC – separate –
have a little ventilator
and white and blue tiles
and mixers for the taps which
don’t let wait long for the shower
when you are already undressed.
The kitchen has electric cookers
with which you have to calculate carefully
the cooking time and just little space
to accumulate dirty dishes.
Part of the flat are also a small
and a little damp cellar
– not good for books, better for the clothes
out ot season – and a place for the bike as well
in the court, next to the border fence.
To go upstairs there is an old spiral staircase
or the lift of the building next door
(you receive the keys for that). The guests
can however do without it.
The rent is comprehensive of heating
and warm water. Only electricity is left
in Dietrichsteingasse 7, flat 18, IX Bezirk
nearby is the Liechtensteinpark
and the boutiques a little flashy
of Porzellangasse.
Originally posted in Italian on April 15, 2008 at 17:04
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Like in Ostend
Kicked away by the waves the buildings
eventually dropped
to the november-coloured sea.
The wind crushed to the cheeks
dumping the switched off merry-go-rounds and a dog
leaded astray by the storm of the previous days.
I remember you blowing then from your nose
every disgusting sealife
uprooted by the hair lying exile
on the winter beach along with the teeth
lost by the sea.
The shading of the foreshore
was updating in real time
the borderlines of a noman’s land.
Note of that was taken by the seagulls
lurking on the stilts and their heads
hooded in the wings.
Originally posted in Italian on January 9, 2008 at 1:26
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