I shall betray you
I shall betray you, you only said,
because life is a lone roses bed,
weaved upon canvass grid.
The leaves turn yellow you only said,
because the garlands away fade,
adornment hung - on lonely door.
Arrows of thoughts, define my quill
destined to leave, scared and still,
a celestial hue, a coastal shore.
Without units in a quest, a sole role,
a glassy dome, my soul's extol,
in dark your glances mead.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Ghostly Floss
Ghostly Floss
Your form, an evenness of attention
a cause of synchronized emotions
to travel routes of eternal blossoms
to accompany my souls extension.
No solar tide in my ocean travels
red roses blossom in surmised garden
with her glance Atropos unravels
solitude rules in my carried burden.
Ghostly floss, relentless rain mortised
joint symmetry, worlds of grievance
Ghostly floss, where monodies abide
feeling of persecution's distance.
-
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Betrothal Pearls
Sudden gusts around me are frozen,
Septentrio is acerbic this odd year,
Assuming I am wind's well chosen,
I sense my destiny to adhere.
Angels from above send this winter,
October in North Ranges is lonely,
your icon in mind is an anointer,
as you descend airy and lovely.
Celestial you descend airy and lovely,
embracing me, ghost in the whirls
of the wind as snow flies solely,
to smile with betrothal pearls.
Septentrio = Northern wind
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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On Tall Mountain
Two names were sung in sky
by a pair of goldfinches,
little by little, their wishes,
became a solitude awry.
Gray clouds gathered where,
his glance searched nigh,
affable were his solemn try,
within her sparkling stare.
Embraced dreams she loved,
oceans to pass and lands;
a painful token in her hands,
weds white satin gloved.
On tall mountain he stayed,
lying forever amidst rock;
his name delineated by chalk,
by drizzle washed away;
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Dream - dream
Sorrowful seems this end of mourn;
maybe in tear woods cry - cries adorn,
a foolish end that merits near,
my tragicomical nostalgia to appear;
dream - dream my anguished stare,
amid sea waves and black rocks bare,
for you that didn't ask to be torn,
in sepia stills, modes of a brass horn.
Up in air, where winds are hurting,
potable loneliness, tears are flirting;
drink- drink my exorbitant pleasure,
and spill in clouds, tearful measure.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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A silent snowfall defines forever
Her dark eyes will glance your past,
embrace bitter years, deep in mist,
and will shine in solitude her kissed,
nightly face of your winter glassed.
Outside the snow will fall and cover,
as a white quilt her steps and trace,
a tear of the North wind to embrace,
a same yard of grass and red clover.
So well drawn was the dream's end,
now a silent snowfall defines forever,
two dark eyes are kin to a far of never,
while falling snowflakes hopes bend.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Wince
Welcome to my white fog, devoid day
there is a sodding care in your thump,
dally in my intellect-one brass trump,
be in my feast of mind, a rose bouquet.
Wild flowers of Spring fiddle in winds,
where wraiths infinitely rewind feasts,
for one time my soul was lost in mists,
your tear's warm communion and wince.
It was your sanctified, sublimate care,
to embrace ideally whatever was wreak,
once more the trump was to play meek,
to time dancers in your mind and glare.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Kiss on the eyes
[Kiss on the eyes]
Do not kiss upon my palms
because I 'll disinherit,
of my other hidden self,
of my winds' alone merit
Do not kiss upon my eyes,
as all winds now beckon,
along I shall be drifting nice,
as our songs aboard echo.
Because people always say
(since old realms) ,
an odd confession's sign 'll be,
kiss on the palms.
Because people always say
(since old times) ,
a separation's sign will be,
[...] Read more
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Doves
We externalized sentiments to actions,
fought dread demons to their perish,
never disbanded from chain reactions,
aborning from our struggles to cherish.
Adventive were those days when cause,
became a good fare to recount shrines,
ancestors came in dreams apt to impose,
of worlds where alacrities drew lines.
And those lines where ours to maintain,
deep in our soul with unbestowed loves,
there was solitude to recall and strain,
with a bitter shadow of two dead doves.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Sacred Band I
A drizzle starts to fall
upon the lands you lay;
may your crosses stay,
white marble to sprawl;
The three hundred died,
Inscribed lines of red,
as dusk crowned bled,
Charons baleful stride.
Eternal blooms to care
adorn Aurora's daughter
at a macabre slaughter
to maids tearful stare.
Glory bestows Laurels,
gray sky hails forsooth,
Thyrse on soils blooth,
invoking Churches bells.
[...] Read more
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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