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Luca Menin Poems
Puddle of water
Like streamlets of gin, floating the bottom of a bottle The veins flows, intoxicate abstinence's woes, carried like wreckage, drying on the sandy shore.
Waste at the door Drunk of apple core, spiting seeds of the last tree. The hands hold the head,
Bury me on the top of the higher hill Under the tree blown by the breeze So that I can rest with the falling leafs Under the sun that comes and goes
At the bar
Inebriated sailors. Chatting laughter woman's Worming foggy windows.
Like an eagle resting...
Like an eagle resting on the yellow shape of the silent sun I Wait impatiently the dingles of the bells Crying conscience of steady moons, at angels sunset Breathless death, with his narcissus eyes
When the clouds...
When the clouds, like waves, overwhelm the moon. The nocturnal sea of velvety glances, sail I have been stood, in this ocean of dark blossom. Where silent hang the remembrance, of the last hoot.
Air blow sad...
Air blow sad from the cloud nest. At the endless god blesses, and angel splendours, kiss of beauty; the gazelle vulgar fly impressed like the empty shells, where tears blow loud,
Tall shadow of grass, cover in sweet pollen of flower's springs. Hide from a wall of green woods and streams. It Is the flavour the skin, reddened by the sun. Left bare, like chaste grapefruits.
Dancing on the sea
Exotic sounds Staring as if hypnotized. The moon savouring enchanted, those movements almost stationary The sound of the sea,
Fear lies upon his face, what happening; sadly dark veil covers his eyes, why all this? , this noise, these lights, the fire burns, these bombs.
The abandoned fishing boat
Through the fissure of the reeds caress by the breeze, the water sparkle lit blind hear the waves recede.
The moon pale...
The moon pale and timid In a bad of stars Lie under, The sheet of clouds.
Matching scratches White square patterns, design by print feet. Back and forward & square.
Comments about Luca Menin
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Puddle of water
The long mud path, divide by the grass
Where woods tremble by the rains wash,
have left foot print of forming mirrors,
reflecting picture of air.