Become the Rain
Above the tree tops fly in clouds
angelic forms that meet the winds,
salute the mistral and the crowds,
above the solitude that bounds,
red green their dreams amid the fields,
thunderous call engage and wields,
abstemious souls embrace the sounds,
become the rain on steadfast keeled.
And some remind you of your past,
when flower scents descend the years,
when you were running ever fast,
the time was burden, and contrast,
to overreach in fog your tears,
abolished shields - hazardous fears,
theatric group of absent cast,
embracing dead the chevaliers.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Harmonica
Spirits come stern to foreshadow
our route westward onto Atlantic,
nautilus believe in ancient mantic,
and sudden port sentiments endow.
My ancestors were natural sailors,
serving the same cause for years,
worldwide route as funeral tears,
sable wives shed to ocean bailors.
Grim engagement describes a spell,
that haunts island men since birth;
sea engulfs them, an owing dearth,
of morose depths in mournful well.
Sailors stand upon the stern deck,
as dusk turns colors to hazy gray,
with a harmonica on a wistful play,
tearing the long shadows an' beck.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Drama
In a cause of losses, you only abide
my name calling, in a world of weep
this drama will rise, my tears of pride
and my desperation I will only see.
This chorus of people around me
never laugh or play, only lament
it is an expansion of an old tragedy
to make my sorrow apply and extend.
I strive to become my life's bard
or an adequate companion of roses
that blossom red, sweetly to guard
my even sorrow and your causes.
Maybe it was my tears to invite you
my desperate chances to there linger
or a case of worlds bitter but true
a chorus of tragedy point their fingers.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Spelling My Name
I heard you spelling my name
I answered in the winter winds
the winds that blame
my voice still - your words bid.
My winds shied - a darkened bride.
My winds cried, and then I died.
A call of altitudes waving a hand
A Deadly Nightshade, of Nyx
distance egressed,
a word uphill, your primal twinge.
My voice edges - my call subsides.
Crucifix wedges, my rain decides.
I heard the night calling my worth
I answered in the snowy landscape
[...] Read more
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Buffoons of madness
I was raised to believe there is a crown
for all achievers, dreamers, planers, givers
heroes of efforts! Never dismissed, believers
all, of the same just cause, soldiers alone
In this world most of the times, you strive
on an uphill eternal slope. There I reached
of a conclusion: Loneliness is an odd feast
values are friends, your only carrier to drive
You may think that this is a bed of sadness
But No! Both thoughts are illusions. Decide
which one could be correct, a choice of life
All saving messages rely on your kindness.
(Avoid buffoons that proclaim of madness)
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Thessaloniki
Who would that be with the scaled tail?
A Gorgon maybe, or a Medusa?
A precognition of a roughened wild sea,
a challenge to any nautilus wail,
or a dithering of a lonely soul's plea?
She raises her hand to grasp of the side,
your boat's that edges away, breast rail,
she woes to thee to adherent abide,
your empty soul's anxiety's lone trail,
many that tried to disclaim her - died.
It could be a mermaid that wanders
on every ship's route or path surmised
to ask of how her dear brother died
and she, her once royal pretty fingers
lifts, to ask: Is king Alexander alive?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Dark Angel
Dark angel of heartbeating pound,
sixth sense of premonition glide,
kin to his ways and scopes to bound,
steel spurs transmit the spell around,
that duel's guns and death astound,
companion keen to stand aside,
Dark angel of heartbeating pound,
sixth sense of premonition glide,
Gunfighters' walk on dust, midday,
where forty fours will blossom fire,
his eyes sweep on each detail,
a draw of bluff on deathwalk trail,
will have sixes' to beat double play,
black coat, gun belt - thorn dry briar.
Gunfighters' walk on dust, midday,
where forty fours will blossom fire.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Gypsy
Gypsy
Steep path leads to the top,
a Gypsy ascends with aberrance,
his memories behind to drop,
spells an aphorism to his airy audience.
Same drops of forehead sweat,
dropp to soil; an apparition waves,
the rocks bemoan his lone sextet,
raindrops; a Gypsy that even sky betrays.
Maybe he was a shadow, a ghost,
perchance a smile on lips and eyes,
of his betrothal nymph in woods,
in an eternal solitude of her to guise.
He gallivants in emptiness, about,
as two goldfinches of afternoon warble,
their song becomes his lone shout,
[...] Read more
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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My quill's trails
Cumulus dance so nicely, an isotropy of moves
and dimensions, a nimble flirt of Aeolic whiffs
and my minds explorations. My solitude rules.
A crucifix hung from your neck, a golden chain
your dreamy form attends my calls, your bliss
was it an autesthesy of souls esteem, position vain?
Your glance demure, my crimson run, a wince
a blow of winds, took me up high, afar from pain
Dryads accepted me in mist, a travel of whims.
A visitor of evenness, a sanctuary of your ails
your wings invited me, to fly in higher air streams
Your flash of soul lives since, in my quill's trails.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Enchantress
A mystique dance on earth's wet voir,
the shadows soft'n the light to fade,
a sightly form - dandelion flow'r,
with not a sign of flaws to mar,
her nightly hues of glancing jade,
effulgent with the moon on glade,
noctilucent the stars stand far,
her moves regale what men forbade.
Her smile will spread to lunar haze,
the sparkling eyes will scintillate,
as shadow spells her passing glaze,
to whom will dream her distant phase,
her mane to wave, of moon's oblate,
in dreams to jinx those who sedate,
delightful trance her inner blaze,
woods' cardinal and nymph ornate.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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