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III

Unshaped

Poems

by Giuseppe Termine


The Night is coming down from the hill along the fog thousand of white horses to the attack protecting the moon that still behind a cloud dense No lights only a few souls charging the heart for not to die

and

dark.

from the small houses awake drinking milk with bread in these first hours.

When the time portrays his long hands a reflection of the river that descends Sitting.

from what is only giving the last star to the last lovers. Silence.

An embrace that screams of joy and immense farewells talking with their eyes and hands imitating the colors of the mountain flower the rare ones from the field where they used to go, on that hill while, in the village below -the others are still drinking milk eating bread, just because it is Sunday. I


into the The time is perhaps,

Look there look at the sky full of flamingos. They are more than the clouds, today while this big sun is sinking lagoon. stopped it is just a memory.

We are looking at the sky greeting the endless, hugging, wriggling in the wind into the reeds into the silent bunkers of the war never, they never met the enemy remaining there like elephants old and tired looking the flat sea like us lulled by the gulf in the seasons while the sand is covering them year

after

year.

Maybe,

to others

maybe it could be sad to look now at the dark pine forest in the silence. Taking your hand, there are a lot of things to discover insideit and you will be surprised to know that now the flamingos are flying somewhere in Africa giving the same feeling lovers. II


there

is little between what

is below and what the Time you realize

is

is

not really that each

necessary instant is

to love when

in our hearts, between

are really to love

to realize

what is the

somebody

( lovers, the love in our

hearts

I love you) really difference between what

there is a little and our a

between ,because

concept of

white

between a firm cold heart heart that beats forever

and

what we consider we ignore it, thinking to be as the most ignorant in the meantime are

Maybe our

true

and

false

so

what wise

despise

( lovers, the love in our you) because

night

what

days where locked inside because it’s raining outside and then going back to sleep under the warm blankets of time.

making love

is black

normality

necessary

to taste those we are

Maybe,

I love you)

there is little difference and what is called

the clouds

for us,

in a tender

endless embrace.

the love

Maybe, really is defined insanity

the levels of the Time

now.

to feel us more protected ( lovers ,

Maybe, really difference

hearts sometimes souls III/1

I

love


would

leave our that our eyes get wet our mouths began to tremble our

limited

bodies hands become so light only to increase the void dreams in our anxieties ashamed of

in our being alive.

which we are

( lovers, the love in our hearts I love you) Maybe I have to leave

tomorrow away from you- forever I

just want you to know that all instants that you gave me have filled my life

flattened the emptiness little by little

and my hands do not tremble anymore and my eyes no longer

until it has disappeared seek

the endless

( lovers .

the

love in our hearts I love you)

III/2


III Unshaped Poems 2014, London, UK Š Giuseppe Termine www.termineg.com

III Unshaped Poems  

Mini Book by Giuseppe Termine www.termineg.com

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