POETRY: MISCELLANEA
an unexpected encounter
with recitation of poetry included
with everything new and unstable
I try to balance on both legs
interchangeably
with the appearance of some person
with the characteristics of a Prince
telling stories from the past
not knowing where from and to whom
dedicated
however
always reflecting the internal state
of mind
as if the reality on the surface didn’t mind
this strange sudden swing
in the old man’s consciousness
who has lost the trace of his life
on the Roman Road and was forced to return
to where his knowledge lies
about ancient ruins
during the fights
of the Blue and Red Coats
hidden behind Hollytrees
while he watched
with his inner eye
wondering why
I couldn’t follow that
deliberate loss of the way
ending up nowhere I could recognise
familiar surroundings
because everything was blacked out
enough to be believed
that the subconscious drunk mind
is the best you can find to write
so, here’s my piece of advice:
you wouldn’t need this
if you were submersing yourself in this
music stream
pulling on the softest or sharpest strings
in the utmost secrecy
as I do
with a combination of wind
storming with emotions
in every genre
adding kindness, compassion, and gratitude
to the gifts of a man
