Dreams are Sewn

You will not know the size of my love,
or why I reached to spaces unknown,
amidst my heart and the stars above,
where my childhood dreams are sewn.

Lady of dusk, spilled tears and merits,
give me the gift of nightfall and glow,
when the Zephyr far horizons inherits,
pour communion in my cup to bestow.

Paint on my featureless field a forest,
where ode birds sing to killed soldiers,
on bridge deck I claim a void conquest,
your nymphical voice on plain moulders.

So fill and waste my dreams and goals,
with sunsets to redden my gaze to yon,
stockpiling remorse of my extant false,
because men fight to transfer beyond.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Airy you were

Airy you were in my dream, I felt you;
you had a bluish ribbon to twine,
my souls' ocean drops in cold truth,
the stars above ironically to shine;

.......................

I beckon; winds wave in worlds lost;
my glance to fair trails in home field,
a chorus of lost Angels foremost,
singing a monody of my soul's grief.

So there she talks; from far beyond,
the heights of glassy domes, of stars,
wishing - coins thrown in a pond,
a fantasy dreamer I am, behind bars.

Oceanic vastness, memories voiced,
- teary depths prohibited, I sail to only
caliginous, danger links of moist

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Abrazo

(Tango)

'Bailamos? ' he asked, 'l' arrabalero',
a rough dance in manners and in dress,
Un cambio de frente-forth in tanquero,
while tempestous she raged a molinete.

Their glances follow the other's segue;
sharp! an adelante-forward right paso,
with un boleo-step in, whipping his leg,
codigo of compas-beat and contrapaso.

She answers with her hanging-colgada,
her wrath exhaling nostrils in caminar,
cadenzia plays a seduction-castigada,
she leans atras-backwards afore alzar.

His sudden turn in direction-quebrada
his figure straight, de passion caminar,
she followed mounting his leg-sentada,

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Surmised Garden

How true and astounding was your soft laugh,
how smooth and flawlessly you beckoned,
but it was an edge of sword above our luck,
and it was a riddance, a death toll, that echoed.

Surmised garden ideally, shed rose blossoms,
so we attended all of this, a memory of glow,
because my feelings reached for your emotions,
and cried as my steepers in, allowed of the flow.

Frontal of heart, a crucifix, became a blunt cry,
of those stingers that once convinced us to abide,
in a sweet eternity, in stable skies and strive,
and it was a promise of a Nyx, our unguarded pride.

Bouquet of myrtle, you offered me, a rain's drops
a close exploded lightning became our symbol,
for ever after we molded words, our souls force,
and it was your dominion the clouds of your idol.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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May I Enchant

(Tonight loveliest, may I enchant thy perigee?)

Tonight loveliest, may I enchant thy perigee?
cease abnegating thy wisely rounded erudition;
Encircle thy graciousness with a light negligee..

Thine undued disruption makes me an obligee;
Isis, I 'll be a devotee due to thy contrition!
Tonight loveliest, may I enchant thy perigee?

Lustrous Nymph inspires me to be my protegee;
Selene, blest I am to worship thine exposition,
Encircle thy graciousness with a light negligee..

A gondolliere babbles his aria on a canal barge,
Doth love thee vulnerably to Lunar submission;
Tonight loveliest, may I enchant thy perigee?

Thy dancing mirth and trajectory, an apogee,
Bedewed stargazing traces a celestial position,

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Tangibly The Wind

Winter descends, a cold round moon,
around my soul; I pretend to be alone,
I am not, thus memories and ghosts,
will hang my dreams on wall festoons.

Around me, caresses are dispersed,
odd dimensions of a symmetry existed,
whispered kind apologies are listed,
asunder reveries from a December, west.

Winds howl outside my door and bring
music of dithered notes, coldly emitted,
a synthesis for lonely souls is drifted,
in foliage of tall pines and dusk strings.

You won't die! I 'll be taller than the wind,
my aptitude will defeat wrong causes,
you 'll be a moon to embrace my losses,
and I an eulogy wrapped by a purple lint.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Clotho Twine

A request from far, my solid star is blinking
was it you, domain of cold, a dim self linking..
My face a still mask to reveal my lost death
gale benign, of you to entwine, my sole worth..

My truth adverts me, false enthroned wedding
and this incitement, vows more threading.

Loved destinies impending of abient, dim quell
and I am there, of you to share, my barren well
of blossoms longing, a drizzle promise, of you,
as to construct, embraced lace of Ocean Blue.

An aether open, unshown border, to misconceive,
of you to embrace, defeat to taste, loss to perceive.

I felt your fervor, expend to mourns, void of me
sit next to me, conceived you are mine, appointee
Yes, I missed you, Clotho to twine, a thread thin,
I felt a grace, as hands received me, a cadence fee..

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Pitchers of dark ale

It was evident our coordinates entered
in parallax with old dimensions affected;
hence the captain's voice unexpected,
started to sing Verdi, bass and stentor.

The destination was a port of allegiance
so, we responded to the notion veering;
Saint Nicolas was on the rudder steering,
with the ship cunning to void attendance.

Quoiled up round was our blurred scope,
in open seas we egressed, ropes to hale,
drunk by overflown pitchers of dark ale,
communicating in a woozy speech trope.

With minds numb we composed lyrics,
our hoarse voices singing to ocean naiads;
where else, sea nymphs, heard bards,
on bass gargle nonsense of sot freaks?

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Spartans

Militated orders invoke his presence,
stressed actions, but not of vengeance,
serving a cause to polemics referent;
joining a service to patriotism adherent.

He is a mercenary; inviolable soldier,
tending guard in his country's corners,
on Earth's crepuscular void bleeding,
twines engagement to twilight receding.

A Mountain Raids Squadron Sergeant,
carries an M16A4 rifle, an M9 handgun,
an MK2 knife, rounds. apt tools in a fight,
perceptual experience, technical might;

Coarse, wild animal's thinking tracking,
reading signs on any ground, attacking,
to finish a combat in seconds at onset,
or in martial lightning of a cool mindset.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Three minutes of milds

[Three minutes of milds]

People maintain in their soul earthy invocations
(Proud they are for sustaining non-flying alterations)

Others fill their dreams with trajectories of air
(But never associate those with support of despair!)

I know people that navigate, endangered in oceans
(All, think to receive applause of a non existing audience)

For their thrills. An odd offspring of thought, begot
(You see, loneliness is a superb esteem of soul's effort)

I know others that believe in hasps, internal lockers
(All they wait for, is warmth, available on minds rakers)

I know of soldiers. Shinglers upon virtue of patriotism
(Those I like! Givers of even, unselfish unseen altruism)

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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