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Best Poems From
GIORGIO VENETO
(01-16-1970)
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189.
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I Breathe Her Name
One day she told me that inside me,
North winds abide - and my secrets,
notes of dawn light are and quartets,
to sing again amid black spruce trees.
She came to stand within a faint light,
an apparition brilliant of school years,
when her raven mane waved in piers,
and winds sweeping above that bight.
It was our entreaty that hung in air,
I vanished outside shadows, not nigh,
it was her soul to send me the outcry,
and my interpretation of her despair.
Before I knew, her call was inscribed,
in my lines and beyond, into my voice,
herald of solitude twining that choice,
to stay in soul, tear-sting an' imbibed.
Background of aphotic dusk - became,
so as to embrace us while the windings,
of frozen roads, with pennant bindings
I breathe in sovereign woods her name.
Giorgio Veneto
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190.
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I heard thy verses
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine,
text lines thank thine Italian fettuccini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thy bare feet on grapes dance for wine,
Bound to thee my greed for baked panini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
Thy radish desire - in veins is flow malign,
dance fayre amid spud and fresh zucchini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thy casseroles enjoy thee, as I be on line,
dare to kisse thy big toe- al dente linguini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
Oh, fayre maiden thy kisse doe not decline,
Thy coles 'n' lettuce I love, wear a beanie,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thou doe not cook bacon wearing a bikini,
thy squash embrac'd art, e'er to enshrine.
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine
Giorgio Veneto
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191.
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I Heard You Spelling My Name
I oddly heard you spelling my name
I answered in the winter winds
the winds blamed my voice still -
your words, a gray cumulus became.
A thunder roar, a storm advent
a message to the gods, dim, latent
my souls depict a thunder's wrath
as I expiate in rain drops thrust.
Not an allusion of a Zeus lightning
all there is real, a force blinding
Athermanous, wet flesh enthralled
and rain-scattered feelings exposed.
I love those drops that kiss my face,
in my esteem, a diamonds edge to trace,
accepts the kindness of this storm,
and this adoration becomes a thorn.
that sweetly penetrates my dream
that attentively out traces my smile
that lovingly stings my eyes gleam
and my words for you compile.
I heard you spelling my name; 't was
a dithering in the winds to abide
the winds became then my voice's loss,
my life, a cumulus became and died.
Giorgio Veneto
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192.
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I missed the trees
I liked my solitude, it was my soul's profit
and cared to build my prowess, with content
often I longed for my patrial home's soffit,
and felt to inhale the aura, Aegean sea sent.
I missed the wind that in pine foliage whistles,
where birds were playfully singing in Spring,
and I wanted to count the Winter's thistles,
on the plains we played, where memories cling.
Scripts are little souls that learn to survive,
in austere years afar, with my friend the sky,
celestial trajectories their scopes contrive,
where affection is limited and coldness nigh.
My icons roam on a go-to-meeting greenway,
ideal forms, with poems an affable to grace,
they follow the tracks of an infinite railway,
with scopes on a marble surface to outrace.
I missed the hovering of butterflies and bees,
the haze of joy, the warmth of April and light;
a girl that waited under the sour orange trees,
that smiled to me during my to faraway flight.
Giorgio Veneto
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