My golden leaves
That leaves are not seen by anyone but me. That leaves are my golden leaves.Julie
Remember: it is what you are for me
an old remember, as a
old book that I’ve loved.
I don’t write about you
I cannot
I could only write my name:
Julie.
Sei un ricordo per me
un vecchio ricordo, come
un quaderno a cui resto affezionato.
non scrivo di te
non posso
potrei scrivere solo in mio nome:
Giulia
Good morning
Good morning people; good morning and good year. I hope you will try to make this year a good year: the best horoscope is the one we “write” everyday on our one. How you can easily see I have no words for this year.
Poem 2
Honestly I tried to write a poem,
but the poem didn’t want to be written.
Sorry, Merry Christmas
The rainbow after the storm
Financial crises are doing what they better know to do: they destroy the system. Obviously there are huge crises and little crises, but they have one point in common: the change. If the crisis is little and you are able to manage it, the change will be natural and you will pass it. If it is big and strong, the change will be big and strong and you can wait. Fichte said that the reality is described by a sort of dialectical structure. After the crisis and the change you can see thenew world, a rainbow after the storm. As Ron Paul said somewhen you can’t prevent the depression, the depression is an element of the market and an element of the reality.
Poem 1
The jazz darkness of the mind,
fiction of our brains, spreads to reality.
“Me” is the only word I know; Yes, the unique possibility to be.
Looking for a woman that never comes back: the tears of my face in front of a porn site.
Nothing is the only word I know; no, the unique possibility to be.
In the morning I wake up
Now is Autumn; I can see it by all the nature, and the sky, darker than the summer one. Now I can’t dry my hair in the sun and I close the windows during the night. When I wake up I feel a cold wind; the warm bed is my only protection.
Now is Autumn
