Sonnets to Swallow

 1. It Was This Morning 

I did suddenly burst into tears this very day,

And not “maybe it was yesterday”, it was this morning;

It feels worse and better than anyone would say,

But I hate paralysing, all without a warning.

If I could, I would leave scratches on my own face

Because be damned if I can accept such strong feelings;

Forgetting the cat, the charger, the book is enough to shake the base,

And ruin all the glass, clay, crystal sealings.

But it still burns me anytime it starts

Because the beginning is always without a reason;

I guess the brain has its own terrifying arts

Because existing with it can feel like a prison or treason.

I hate showing my heart more than I could say

Because there isn't much light, from the first day to the last May.

2.  Ladro di fiori

When I look into the mirror, I cannot see myself 

Because I only notice a stained-glass hidden by grey clouds; 

Regardless of how many books or bottles I have on my shelf,

I never seem able to attract large crowds.

Like Faunus inspecting each and every tree,

I look at your jade eyes without ever being tired;

And like Orpheus who sang to anyone he could see, 

I sing the song of an arrow that had fired.

In order to see myself, I'd rather have your eyes

Because I wonder what you see when you look at me;

But still close them, your heart can tell no lies, 

And I swear your tender touch stings like a bee.

Goddess of all that's beautiful, listen to my song

For I smell of lavender and speak in Sappho's tongue. 

3.  My Heavy Head

An arrow pierces again through my heavy head, 

Yet nothing other than crying seems to follow;

Regardless of the scars or the stitches that bled,

The night often feels endless, yet hollow.

Something burns from the inside or outside 

Because even an oblivious man notices such a weight;

Yet a distracting smile pushes the doubt further aside

Because nobody wants to see the numbness of a mate.

But I accepted it, and so most of its power is gone, 

Although the lead arrows still hit my head;

Now only the scars remain, a memory of what is done,

A memory of a mask or a wound of what was said.

And so my head keeps spinning endlessly,

But a dose of indifference acts frequently mercilessly.

4. Kingslayer

A king sits on his throne with a lust in his eyes

Because he waits for an heir, gold, and adoration; 

All around him hear, but don't listen to his lies

Because most already foresee his damnation.

One day, somebody is missing from the council of the crown,

And nobody can find the knife with the lion's head;

A strangled shout accompanies the king's final frown,

Revealing the one who cut with the knife of lead.

'He brought his own demise, I only hurried his fate;

Who's the madman: I or the one who tore everything apart?'

But no one listened, all saw his words as a bait, 

Yet, the kingslayer gave birth to another art.

Is it worth being the harbinger of a new hour, 

Even when all around you are left feeling the sour? 

5. I Talk to Dear Achilles 

The moon shines brightly through the darkness of the night

While everyone is quietly sleeping to the song of the sea; 

I talk to dear Achilles until the dawn is in sight

Or until he grows tired of laughing and crying with me.

Then he takes his lyre and sings a song to my name

For a reason only his mind could understand; 

Before meeting Achilles, I only knew cursing and blame,

But he loves to say “Patroclus” enough to force such a rule to bend.

Now he cradles me, crying makes him wish to gauge out his own eyes

Or simply chase death because Achilles' fire lost its rain;

His bloodshot eyes and pale face could never tell lies

Because all his rage mirrors the weight of his pain.

His reason for joy became the blame of his vengeance 

Because without Patroclus, he knows no temperance. 

6.  It's Stuck in My Head

It's stuck in my head, and without a proper reason 

Because the lyrics aren't the best either way;

Still, I could never say it's treason 

Because the guitar, and drums will be the best until the last May.

This song is sexy, but that never had on me any effect 

Because I seem to be immune to such a voice;

The fragrance of bisexuality is all I can detect, 

And that's enough of a reason for me to rejoice.

It's a song you sing to get Achilleans & Sapphics all around you, 

Which is nothing but a blessing, I'd say.

For such a reason, I may appreciate this one too;

Because since, lesbians see in me the beauty of a Blue Jay.

I don't truly like this song, but I adore its effect

Because to attract gays is nothing less than perfect. 

7. About an Astronaut & a Phoenix (first in the book)

The wind blows again in Udine, and carries a phoenix with wide-open wings

Who faces an astronaut before rising above the forest;

Sometimes the numbness is swallowing all mood swings,

But a calm voice echoes a mind that's honest.

You speak like a professor about moonlight, and the boat of Tagore 

Because your mind reaches far beyond your work in engineering;

You read Blaga's “Poems of Light”, to thank you I'll read “L'ardore”, 

Although I know depression might always be searing.

I might misinterpret it all, while you simply have a problem with your phone,

And be damned if I don't hope to be entirely wrong; 

But considering the signs you've often shown, 

I hardly doubt I misheard the lyrics of your song. 

I'm probably exaggerating to assume such a tragedy, 

But I fear your depression has found its worst remedy. 

(For the book: “To Daniele, one of the first people who encouraged me to publish my sonnets, as well as the one who suggested the illustrations: if this book reaches Udine by any chance, I hope a certain engineer has a second of joy while reading it. I learned a lot from you, your phoenix, and your astronaut!”

Next page: “Come l'aria mi respirerai…”-Måneskin, “Le parole lontane”) 

8. My Best Siblings

Racing heart, head & stomach aches, but not because it's hot, 

It's only because anxiety is trying to get the best of me;

Processing weirdly turns my head into a boiling pot, 

But there are people who don't back away at what they see. 

I never had brothers or sisters, certainly not by blood, 

But I do have a few I've met along the way;

Sometimes I'm flushed in the face or tears come in a flood, 

And it baffles me to see them by side, even in my worst day. 

Yet we help each other out with a listening ear 

Or a hand that's never pointed in judgement; 

Even when loneliness & panic start to sear, 

We always try to create a calm, open environment. 

I guess to find siblings is a better matter 

Than amongst relatives to be the mad hatter.  

9. Seven Crowns of Gold 

Seven crowns of gold now align on his head 

Because he knows best how to achieve his goal; 

Regardless of the births or deaths or who had bled, 

All he cares about is the purging of a damned soul. 

With swords as crosses, he pierces through everyone 

Who dares to defy the limits of his colour-blindness; 

White as tunic, red for colleagues, purple for no one, 

Whoever has scars from such burns ends up in numbness. 

Achilles & Patroclus, da Vinci & Salai, none exist in his all-seeing eyes 

Because none could pay enough for forgiveness; 

All he sells about their love is built on harmful lies 

Because all he knew was his colour-blind stiffness. 

They wonder why people wake up to leave such a way 

While silent, eyes will sting until the final May. 

10.  My Head Is Spinning Once Again

My head is spinning once again because I feel my heart racing,

Even though I'll be with friends and shouldn't worry;

Given the storms I'm too used to facing,

I still think I could have a reason to be sorry.

My anxiety is rising, and I'm already tired 

Of having a brain which keeps malfunctioning;

If I was the boss, he'd be instantly fired 

Or I'd beg for a secretary to learn the way of organising.

Oh, boy, how much could I hate my head,

Especially when it starts to fire all the alarms for nothing?!

When it wasn't tied, my tongue had heavily bled, 

But I still found moments when I was hysterically laughing.

I do still have my days of worry or headaches that are too painful, 

But I'm glad I'm nowhere near as sorrowful. 

11. The Labyrinth is Never Joyful 

At the day's dawn, everyone knows their way in & out 

The labyrinth many call socialisation; 

All follow a thread or know a path about, 

Except for me, I cannot identify such a salvation. 

At noon, the golden fleece reaches most of the arriving hands 

While the Minotaur dies, and rises, even when a Jason is refused; 

Walking through the labyrinth feels like running sands 

Because my knees, hands, and back are already bruised. 

At night, I always hit my head against its stone walls, 

But I never see how much I could bleed; 

That's why I never hear any outside calls, 

Nor do I realise I might be of a different breed. 

At times, Icarus' way to the sun can be painful, 

But staying mindlessly in the labyrinth is never joyful. 

12. Those Who Bark & Bite Make the Loudest Sound (last in the book)

You suddenly disappeared, but now I understand why,

And worry has already turned into happiness;

Nobody should believe the first sonnet or its lie 

Because at this moment I feel nothing but gratefulness.

Those great conversations have returned, and the universe keeps expanding 

Because few people are open to talk about truly everything; 

Some back off or say the subject is too demanding, 

Although it doesn't cost more than a switch in a thought's string.

I'm glad to have a handful of friends, to count you in for such a game 

Because beautiful ideas are born from all heads around; 

There's a lot to learn when minds are without any blame, 

But sometimes those who bark & bite make the loudest sound. 

I don't think I could live without any friends at all 

Because, in such a large world, I would feel too small. 

 

13. Shouts & Tears Are Only Triple 

Conflicts arise for all the impossible reasons, 

Especially when pride or greed takes over the mind; 

A hell had already been loosened for many seasons 

Because of all the words whispered from behind. 

When a war breaks out, others are no longer people, 

They are only harbingers of death, and suffering, and uncertainty; 

Still, the shouts & tears are only triple 

When every commoner becomes synonymous with calamity. 

And so we hate each other while building walls in a circular world 

Because we know nothing better than to endlessly bite. 

It's easy to complain while vomiting through every word; 

But if we like the same music, why can't we rise to the same height? 

Human or not, I can respect everyone, 

Unless they don't acknowledge what has been done. 

14. The Moon Is Changing Its Colours 

The moon is changing its colours, while I can't see the stars any more, 

But I don't understand how I should feel; 

Rain brings joy, the sun only knows what's sore 

Because neither light, nor shade, is afraid of my iron seal. 

A dry year leads to hallucinations or extreme boredom 

Because curiosity cannot grow inside a cage; 

Only numbness grows under the rules of your kingdom 

While inside its walls is fuelled my fire of rage. 

Now our world is turning while the universe keeps expanding 

Because we're still moving to find or admire new places; 

I no longer hear whatever everyone else is demanding 

Because nobody can expect the changes of my paces. 

Rage might turn the planet into a tempest, 

If listening to the wind serves no interest. 

15. Whispering Without a Break 

Everyone is saying loudly or whispering without a break: 

'You should listen more to me, I should be the one to decide!' 

I often leave, there's no move I could ever make, 

But then they wonder: 'Why does she always try to hide?' 

Everyone says it's always better to act in their way 

As if they already knew what suits the modern world. 

But I cannot avoid mistakes until the last May 

Because against all madness, I still have a word. 

Now I hear whispers, but without resonance in my head 

Because I get to say in who walks the attic of my mind; 

Too many tears, too many stitched wounds had bled 

For me to keep shouting into a void, to only watch from behind. 

So keep saying what you wish, just know it makes no sound; 

Between yelling, and staying quiet, I prefer the middle ground. 

16. Like a Seagull 

Like a seagull above Napoli, I fly above & beyond to find 

The mistery of all that's beautiful in our world; 

Strangely enough, I often see it both in front of me and behind 

Because I love every eye, and ear, and cemetery, and word. 

In all eyes I notice curiosity for all that's around me, 

Along with the art of expression in every single trade. 

Still, I need my ears to hear stories, to be able to see 

From different angles florins ringing while melting into the universe's braid. 

But I'm not afraid of cemeteries, I embrace them as part of living 

Because my love extends even to places where lights never shine; 

In a certain playfulness, I could never stop believing 

Because without it, I cannot say the word of my humble line. 

I play with my words so I can help others rise too 

Because nothing's more pleasant than the spark I see in you. 

17.Why Do I See Pessoa?
It rains again, even in Hadrian's heart,
As Pessoa always adored to write in his songs.
I swear, this Portuguese man was a god of his art
Because he could bandage or sever all eyes or tongues.
Although born in Lisbon, he was a native in the matter of Shakespeare,
He also adored Walt Whitman for his openness.
"From Portugal, I salute you, you great homosexual spear",
Says the person as Alvaro to his heart's wholeness.
He was a loner, a figure amongst so many others;
He could take anyone's face without a notice.
A person's just a face like those of children, and fathers
Since few see Ricardo, Bernardo or Alberto before the winter solstice.
So why do I see Pessoa in all of our universe?
Because everything in existence was first his verse.

 

18. The Shape-shifter

Grant me, Apollo, fine ears to listen to the universe's story, 

As well as all curiosity to notice it expanding before my eyes; 

Oh, Artemis, lead the way into the night's silver glory, 

And teach me to see the water growing thicker than some lies. 

Grant me, Loki, the diplomatic gift of your tongue's word, 

And the power of a shape-shifter to enter people's minds; 

Dear Odin, show me every spell of every world, 

But promise me to never differentiate or pick sides. 

Whether Hades or Anubis, old or new, local or foreign, 

Every person has something to learn, and something to tell; 

In equality, there's no point in searching a single sovereign

Since a word is nothing you could buy or sell. 

And so with the help of stories, I became a shape-shifter 

Because it would be too boring not to be a drifter.

19. Life Starts Now

When the door opens, I'll leave without a trace 

Because there's nothing to tie me to a city or another; 

Life starts now, even though I have no brace 

Because now I'm independent, and I no longer bother. 

I'm not being pushed out, I just need some space 

To think, to see everything from a relative distance; 

I can't gather my thoughts, sometimes my mind is a mace 

Which paralyses me with its hits of hesitance. 

Life starts now, so now I'm not told what to do, 

And I can finally write my story on paper or skin; 

It's odd, I can't say I'm not lost or anxious too, 

But I wouldn't turn back, regardless of the virtue or sin. 

Life starts now, and I celebrate with a cup of tea, 

While I hope I won't drown in the deeper sea.  

20. 

The Wind Doesn't Move Me 

When the gates are open, I shouldn't stand in-between 

Because winds blow in all directions possible here; 

This is the strangest, yet most interesting thing I've ever seen 

Because the wind doesn't move me, it's just a sound I hear. 

I stand here, knowing nothing but contradiction 

Because that's what makes the universe a whole; 

I have to admit, discovering as a beginner is now an addiction 

Because nothing is more beautiful than a universal soul. 

This is what happens when you no longer see the others 

More than you see yourself in all the beauty of our world; 

You don't belong to anyone, not even to the sins of the fathers 

Who may have yelled in gibberish or simply a wrong word. 

I hope you find your peace by accepting all along the way: 

Tell your story, and listen to others, but not to all they have to say. 

21. The Algernon-Gordon Effect 

A white mouse with red eyes is now missing an ear, 

And has a long scar he couldn't be threatened to touch; 

But he sees in the rabbit's remaining eye a tear, 

And the mouse rushes to help, although he can't do much. 

Algernon loves his flowers, always coming closer when such beauty is in sight 

Because the scent of lilies often erases his numbness; 

For Charlie, every change of tone is a reason for fright 

Because he knows what happens if they see his dumbness. 

The two still care about each other, as if they were brothers 

Because there's nobody else to tend to such bleeding stitches; 

Such fears sometimes connect the two with others, 

But some other times outsiders won't forgive or see beyond their itches. 

This is what happens when beings become objects in a laboratory 

Or when certain minds only see the numbers of their inventory. 

22. The Greatest Painters 

You looked for happiness like Achilles searched for Patroclus, for his dear; 

You looked for it in the tallest of halls, between the sacks full of grain. 

But you found it the way Achilles did, just after a tear started to sear 

Your flushed cheek, tormented by the barbell of your pain. 

Not to say you deny such crying or the chaos which surrounds you, 

Nobody could delay all reactions until the end of time; 

But give yourself the grace to feel your wholeness, your ugly side too, 

And only after will you find joy in adding a bit more thyme. 

You saw your mate's funeral before singing your favourite song, 

And you were in a hospital for a week, then you met your favourite writers; 

Between falling, and flying, there's a beauty without a tongue 

Helping us become of our destinies the greatest painters. 

There's joy in concerts, but in your morning cup of tea as well, 

But only with curiosity you can find everything, as far as I can tell.  

 

(source of the image: https://www.williamshakespeare.net/)