Were wolf
It groans, with no words.
The loving skin, unfaithful,
sweaty, my hand caresses
furious inspiration.
I hear werewolf in my head savaging
dreams of fur, & moonlight hunters,
with bloody & yellow moon shape eyes
wandering in open field,
landscape of a graveyard of eternal spirit.
Naked, with appetite,
feeding of lambs and wild hare meat.
Damned is my soul,
Till the rise of a new day light.
poem by Luca Menin
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The weak flesh
Dress of silky black dreams
and marble sphere's layers
Seek nocturnal desire.
Breathe, through her moaning legs.
Like the open wings of a swan,
swing at the blue sun.
Contemplate, the rise over the devil course,
upon the weak flesh.
So good that death, may be sweet in our tongue.
That no Gods temptations, and afterlife,
dead will never rise.
Blandness flash swallows.
Redeemed pleasure of cast lights.
poem by Luca Menin
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Park
Muddy steps of raven's heads
Fasting of mould bread
crawling, like wood worms of storm
Hunted by passes of moon golden rocks.
Not here yet, but dear so.
I hide myself, and my hollow wealth of tarragon flavor.
Where new-born flowers hatching, in the womb of my eye's
mother's grass warm sun.
Like arms holding life,
webs of branches' tree,
Hide spiders' leafs, caught in the opening light
dazzles fading flies.
poem by Luca Menin
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On Friday Night
Drunk, hungry eyes
Walking on the alleyways
Monstrous mouths,
devouring testy meat
The lights are foggy mirrors
of those pretty girls.
The stroke of their hair and legs
A proud walking man to...
Crawling tired legs,
like worms on cold mud
Laments of an intoxicated child,
that cannot sleep.
Reddish flames behind frames,
returning from laughter of horror
Eggs shells, boiling bowls of yolk,
in the people heads.
poem by Luca Menin
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My eyes linger.....
My eyes linger, angels remembrance on pure beauty.
Her smile, face of red and timid cheeks - skin of velvety tastes.
Her voice, embarrassed simplicity expressions.
Flourishes her eyes enchanted, my heart loved.
The rain recites on her pass, walking like on veiled dreams.
No word to explain, my feeling shed.
Neither knew her name, is not permitted.
My eyes wander, my heart whining.
Suddenly so firmly, in a pictorial desire.
poem by Luca Menin
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Fog
Old movie morning...
The sun barely breathes, silver & grey colours.
Black & white grass heads, crying dew tears.
The land wakes with mugs of stemming smoke.
Revealing absorbing true shapes
Of tree grey morning bones
Wet tongue on my ears.
Whisper shadow from the lamp light.
Blind eyes draw, unintelligible figures.
Not much to see, on the walls' house.
Trapped in mimic cage.
The fog tricks silver and grey hats.
Of smoking breaths.
poem by Luca Menin
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Hypocrite
As your eyes blur, moving in the light
Why you said I'm a hypocrite?
When you are the ones that not listen & sleep of convictions.
Uncertain beliefs and of sorrow lives, you conceive.
Of the object, we live.
On my right water, I left.
Empty I forget.
Sphere shell
Spices and tea
Raspberry tins.
And, if the night is only an empty space.
To be fill of dreams
A circle of biting tails
Exited like a child smile of counted innocent's teeth.
poem by Luca Menin
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Gale
Outside the mirrors, the dark, it fell.
The day seems squeezing the head into a sleepy dead.
The seagulls are swirling, at the approaching rain,
the leafs with their yellow faces, angry rustling
in the wind blowing away.
It is dark as night, clouds flowing in the sky, like black kites,
fading away in the murky air
The wet lamps, light the flooding oaks,
The day is wearing raining coat
shivering white and pale
by the winter raging gale.
poem by Luca Menin
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Looking At The Sky
Unsinkable, is the sky,
apparently above, untouched.
Running through the fissure of it vastness claws
My eyes of a blue fire, follow the wings of the cloud's companions.
My feet stand, painful, like in a Mary go around, that not move, engage.
And without realize, my lost walk, at the sun tuck me.
At this transparent fuel, the sky injects.
Like a burning hole, that never consume.
Make my eyes shining of blind skis
And string's colours touch.
poem by Luca Menin
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Young mother
Young mother
With her leather boots, curves between her legs
Incompressible smile, are you happy or sad?
I tell my love to the wind that breeze your beauty
Innocent Devil Cherubim face
Your body stay, between my hands silky hugs.
What would be of you?
Now that the seasons emigrate.
It left you behind with the love of your child.
Life start young to live old
Only memory stay still
The time rude, without warning
Wake you up to every morning.
poem by Luca Menin
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