Il Poems - Poems about Il

On a remote Mediterranean village there along the lovely Italian coast was a simple young postman looking for love for in to boast Mario was his name, got a new job delivers the mail up so very high Pablo Neruda, a well known poet who lived where Mario climbed to the sky An attractive girl called Beatrice worked in the cafe right way downtown as...

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Dear Mr. Pound, Your holiday in Italy Has besmirched your legacy. Your Cantos, they plead, But don’t exonerate, Not as far as I can see. Dear Mr. Pound, Did praise from Hemingway Whet your narcissistic thirst? As an ex-pat abroad, Did you assimilate What enlightened nations curse? Dear Mr. Pound, You made Il Duce smile. There’s evidence that proves it. Was your Republic...

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The world has lots of misfortunes Considering it harms being steadfast Painful times passes - & again comes From the remnants of yesterday's crime My ribs are crooked My shirt is tightened to my throat Chocking me to death I fear not death - but dying of a crime committed in my dream "Ease my ills" Passing seconds - pass me by I lose more...

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"Gesù, sei stupendo nella tua bellezza Padre Dio, amore del tuo Creatore! A Dio sii la gloria, abbiamo sempre e sempre bisogno di te "Padre Dio, sono la tua poesia e sono ben scritto! Dio sei sempre il sole e la mia promessa Sei arcobaleni che escono dall'alba e dall'orizzonte Dio ti benedica, splendore "Dio sa chi sei in questo universo e...

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Il doce far niente - - - the sweetness of doing nothing That's my conviction as I'm living life as a Poet. It feels as if I'm doing something constructive as I work on poems Time passes so swiftly It's like I'm encompassed in a dream while I go about my daily ritual. It's a sensation of serenity, contentedness that goes beyond mere expression with words It's casual and concrete all in swift...

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My granddaughter loves me, that's all I need to know. I will let the toffs and profs who came my way now go. For all their disparagement why should I have the slightest care? My granddaughter loves me and everything is fair. Then hark my dear detractors, and there are many I recall, my granddaughter loves me, and it's yah-boo...

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Il Pleut It rains torrentially after long drought and disorder; it rains drenching the empathetic scraggy soil of the heart it rains moistening the rocks of anger crags of revenge and cracks of depravity it rains covering the jealous holes with purity healing the undesirable crevices of the being it pours incessantly to cover and clean the gaps of deceptive caves of life it rains inside...

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At the River Bank And quiet flows the river without a ripple or shiver trees stand windless not even a whiff in space no leaf shakes, no sound; fishes are sleeping sweating fishermen around have lost all zeal in the act of rowing their boats stand still; the water shines like a mirror naked boy in it looks at his figure. The world without a name halts...

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Gutted by the sight Of a sleaze sleazing his way, His secrets well-kept, But seeing her sweet smile Makes me think I'm Il Mostro...

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OUT OF THE ORDINARY -il sort de l'ordinaire When dost my heart fall prey to agony? Only when I recall what used to be and only when my thoughts of you come to my mind, just like they do with ev'ry breath that swells inside of me. Mon coeur! It beats the life I'd have to end if my poor heart...

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The crime is snowed over, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Il neige sur le crime Are we buried under snow holding our silence in what immense Cimmerian (collision) of terror ? The mouth kept open in the shriek of interminable shade lips held fast in the frozen depths we disturb the slumber of the Dead with our yelling mute –...

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IL NE SUFFIT PAS (IT IS NOT ENOUGH) Il ne suffit pas de te pardonner. (It is not enough to forgive you) Il ne suffit pas de me pardonner. (It is not enough to forgive me) Parce que tu m’as trompé. (Because you cheated on...

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The little boat of my intellect now sets sail, To course through gentler waves, Leaving behind her a sea so cruel. There is no smoke beyond our wooden surface And moonlight eases a dark Void of wind, rain and storm Leaving behind a most carnivorous tide. The little flower of my dreams The littered hope from dank descent The light fury allure of the...

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Mr. Visage of the manor, was often regarded in the highest esteem. He lived in direct centre of the valley Lauded his walls with fine antiques and trinkets; Gold plated vases of crushed ice Refilled by the hour. Ebony perfumes Travelling in thick cloud, like a rich fog of delight Or marvel atleast. His walls were only thin bamboo, And he visited the villagers...

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Eyes are a beauty like no other, Where your deepest sense shines like lustrous glass; The perfect crystal structure, A divine un-shattered over easeful stars. Today I looked upon the light. Today I woke from a heavy slumber With memory much the same as dreams, Blinds had been lifted, And I draw my stillness Towards the feathered window release. I pour each breath to this...

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