POEMS

as Hemingway

would say

we would be

together

read our books

with the windows

largely opened

during hot

summer nights.

I would tell you

that Hemingway is

such a genius!

so is Bukowski!

you would reply.

“I don’t hate people.

I just feel better

when they

aren’t around.”

you hater!

do you feel

better

when I’m far away

too?

we would spend

our weekends

lazy in bed

watching

Fellini and Tarkovsky

movies

or kissing

between

Caravaggio and Monet.

you’re such

an idiot

but

I love you!

would be my

honest declaration.

you’re so damn crazy

but so do I!

we would be together

for a lifetime

talking about

Plato, Socrates,

Marcus Aurelius,

and

trying to

find out

why on Earth

we needed

to meet

that autumn night?

***

do you remember

when

you’ve told me

“you’re such a Bovary,

my dear!”

you’re right!

I might…be

just like her,

dreaming

of another life,

of another love,

and not finding my place

in this awful world…

should I buy some arsenic?

where could I buy it,

please?

but I might love life

way too much,

damn it!

I can’t commit suicide

just like

Hemingway or Plath.

“you’re such a Bovary,

my dear!”

you’re right!

I am!!!

I might never be happy,

truly happy,

dangerously happy

but haven’t I had Life

dancing in my veins?

***

oh, people,

always complaining

that life is not fair,

and then

never truly fighting

for their burning dreams,

for their crazy calling,

for those hypnotizing eyes

met by mistake.

people…

always complaining!!

that some are luckier than others

and then, choosing again and again

to be the same old cowards

following the same old path

because to take risks might sound interesting

but to do it was never too easy

that’s why

so very few will take them.

oh, these people…

they’re always complaining!!!

that life is so complicated

because they are too afraid

or maybe too ashamed

to admit that

life is like that

only because of them.

that time is passing so fast

and never coming back

but still choosing for eternity

some stable boring jobs

paying their bills

and some exotic holidays

in Bali or Maldives

while slowly killing them.

that true love might be great

but bro…it’s not so easy…

so let’s just give up and pretend

that we haven’t chosen,

like beautiful cowards,

an easy deadly path.

people, oh people…

are swearing that

they want to Live!!

to fight for their dreams

and some rare unique chances,

to speak the Truth

even if the voice

is trembling,

but then, again and again,

choosing the same…

to be courageous

was never too easy

so why not to choose

the smoothest path?!

lying ourselves that

it’s not so bad!!

that we’re truly happy

and we’re truly alive

but later,

when the time will be finished

no way to go back…

just watch with teary eyes

on a frozen deathbed

a wasted Life, Full of Regret.

***

I’m always thinking

when I can’t fall asleep

and my soul is aching

…what a deep thing…

was that a miracle

that our eyes met?

or maybe a curse

for a lifetime regret?

but aren’t we lucky

to have just met?

there are 8 billion strangers

searching for this red thread.

what a strange love, my dear…

so many deep night talks,

Van Gogh, Baudelaire, Vivaldi

and our crazy souls.

we had this strong connection,

I think we’ll always have it

but damn, that Everest of ego!!

too complicated to accept…

we had so many days of laughing

like fools, in our secret world,

but yet, too many

nights of fighting

when true ‘I’m sorry’

wasn’t heard…

I know, this link was unexplainable

but poisonous, indeed,

I hear my poor soul, at night,

sighing…

will we still, one day, meet?

too different,

yet so alike,

too far,

and yet so close,

too complicated to say

out loud

those simple right words.

maybe this wasn’t meant to be

or maybe we’re just too dumb…

maybe we needed to collide

to learn to feel, again,

and bleed.