meadows, voices by Gabriella Garofalo
Hey, wassup, waiting for some lousy harvests
After sowing tears?
Afraid not, those merry darlings elves and fairies love,
Haven’t got time for her gifts, no time no room,
Only the odd smile, a sprinkling of sweet sweet words
Then high time for bites when the cheap magenta sky
Makes her dizzy -
Here come rejections, the wild scene, a creepy set
Scattered across mashed limbs and western souls -
Why are the meadows your voice
Loved to haunt so silent?
Didn’t you know? It’s the latest fad, all the rage this silence
Haunting huts, condos, mansions, semis, oh, and who built them,
Unredeemed hands perhaps? Sorry, can’t remember -
No voices, great, nothing but her eyes
Deeply set on creepy deals, no probs, trust me,
Dancers or smiling parties alfresco don’t give a damn
For questions or shattering eyes, they’ll play dumb if you hand around
Pats or yellow chrome – deal?
No, I won’t cool down, I saw it all, I saw her gasping the name of God,
I saw craven souls fretting over the sudden rebirth
That blinds and cuts into the skin when nightmares
Shout your name in a crystal-cut accent -
And no, I’m not joking.
Beloved, you sent me flowers, the tat opening up and up,
Who the hell fears slashes and secateurs?
Whatever, you daft sad roses died unaware -
Beloved, have I ever told you flowers plague me,
I can’t trust them, dunno why, please tell me why
Then hurl my soul down clouds and fevers:
See, he’s shivering in the field, shaking silence in the morn wind
And I must bid the scarecrow adieu -
Shut up you two, my lovely death,
My wilderness so close to my heart
Shut up and listen:
Only if light hits eyes and limbs our mutual friend
Shuts stares or silence –
Need I add more? Stay gutsy, watch your steps,
Hug stares hug silence, just for once, just for a change
Behave like angels, please –
After all, isn’t that what angels do when game is over?
Born in Italy some decades ago, Gabriella Garofalo fell in love with the English language at six, started writing poems (in Italian) at six and is the author of “Lo sguardo di Orfeo”; “L’inverno di vetro”; “Di altre stelle polari”; “Blue branches”.
After sowing tears?
Afraid not, those merry darlings elves and fairies love,
Haven’t got time for her gifts, no time no room,
Only the odd smile, a sprinkling of sweet sweet words
Then high time for bites when the cheap magenta sky
Makes her dizzy -
Here come rejections, the wild scene, a creepy set
Scattered across mashed limbs and western souls -
Why are the meadows your voice
Loved to haunt so silent?
Didn’t you know? It’s the latest fad, all the rage this silence
Haunting huts, condos, mansions, semis, oh, and who built them,
Unredeemed hands perhaps? Sorry, can’t remember -
No voices, great, nothing but her eyes
Deeply set on creepy deals, no probs, trust me,
Dancers or smiling parties alfresco don’t give a damn
For questions or shattering eyes, they’ll play dumb if you hand around
Pats or yellow chrome – deal?
No, I won’t cool down, I saw it all, I saw her gasping the name of God,
I saw craven souls fretting over the sudden rebirth
That blinds and cuts into the skin when nightmares
Shout your name in a crystal-cut accent -
And no, I’m not joking.
Beloved, you sent me flowers, the tat opening up and up,
Who the hell fears slashes and secateurs?
Whatever, you daft sad roses died unaware -
Beloved, have I ever told you flowers plague me,
I can’t trust them, dunno why, please tell me why
Then hurl my soul down clouds and fevers:
See, he’s shivering in the field, shaking silence in the morn wind
And I must bid the scarecrow adieu -
Shut up you two, my lovely death,
My wilderness so close to my heart
Shut up and listen:
Only if light hits eyes and limbs our mutual friend
Shuts stares or silence –
Need I add more? Stay gutsy, watch your steps,
Hug stares hug silence, just for once, just for a change
Behave like angels, please –
After all, isn’t that what angels do when game is over?
Born in Italy some decades ago, Gabriella Garofalo fell in love with the English language at six, started writing poems (in Italian) at six and is the author of “Lo sguardo di Orfeo”; “L’inverno di vetro”; “Di altre stelle polari”; “Blue branches”.
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