A Mother's Mistake

En moi,battent de l'aile,Eternelles colombes,
Les blancs desirs du calme ou dorment les defunts.
[Paul Valery, from"Cimetiere" approx.1890]

Tears of May...
how much I have cried for you, my love
but you stand-up,
while I fall on my knees...

Yesterday, I killed myself:
I couldn't just go on with this.
The tears of June at least
I won't cry anymore...

[Mia Martini]

I kissed Pilato's Hands and touched the Nails in Jesus'ones
Making the Favorite Jewels of my Wife with His collapsed Eyes
In the Pure Waters of Baptism, I have baths of Iconoclast Youth
On the Humilated Cross of Christ, I hang on the Ghosts of Moral Slaveries

Two Thousand Years and I realised Vatican's foundations
Rise-up on Earth Entrails
Two Thousand Years and I realised Vatican's columns
Are full of Reptiles drenched with Wasted Prayers
My Flight is now Nocturne,Unsoiled by Celestial Trinities
Your Beloved God, my once Unrequested Shelter

I saw him drowning in my Excrements,
in the Dim Light of a no-Consolation Oracle
I won't be Chained to you Forever
I Won't be Victim of my Human Desire

My Flesh not praying for Mercy anymore,and my Soul has gone
Leaving a Black Web on its Place...
...a black Web Devouring the Once deposed Egg
Gift of an eighteen years Soul Trascendence

I, the Delivered Treasure
I, Field of Misery
I, Enfeebled Cobweb
I, the Mirror Phobic, the Neo-Phobic
I, Marbre Noir
I, Shadow of Myself
I, Tragoedia

[A free Interpretation and Remaking on Visage's original tune.]
[Improvised in the Studio.]

The Silence is my PERFECT Partner
I Feel IT, in my daily Actions
I Remove all the Past ILLUSIONS
that GRIP away from my mouth

My Carnal Shape is COMPLETE and Strong
and this is the PURE Human form
the Sounds of Words and Thoughts
are NOTHING but the Uncertainty
of ALL is supposed to be Known

The LIMBO is the Dry Season I BEG for
it Bleed out my dreamy Soul,ALONE and lifeless
Sands cover the last CARESS of Life
no PAIN is concerned to help the REBORN thru my shroud

Hanging in the BALANCE of a perfect Mind
and in the Truth of a NON-SENSE RELIGION
once I fed my HEAD now I BETRAY my Body
it's all I have the LIES carry an entire Existence

The SEPARATION from every New Day
engulfe the Misery of me that still Kill
my SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
and the SUPREME desire to be one with the Infinity
have Swallowed not only my PRIDE to live
but the Indifference will rule in my World
THE BLIND MASS CAN'T GET ME

Dressed in Beauty and Light
He silently enters your Dreams.
And to Gently Awake you, he Despones
in your Mouth the WET GIFT: Semen Lunae

[Mauro Berchi,1995]

Souls in GANGRENE, deformed Human Projections
Moving, BUT NOT Living, on SANGUIS Vibrations
your Pseudo-lifes, please Follow my TEDIOUS Call,
VERTICAL PAIN

I Dare you: Bury me so DEEP that I won't Smell anymore
the Disgusting STENCH of your flesh
so DEEP that I couldn't see ANYMORE
the Pale Colour of your SKIN

Down There,far from the VIOLENT cries of your Children
and JUST there, far from all your BORING questions
Questions, questions, questions
May you be DEVOURED at once by your own Curiosity
and your Mouth become the most Ruthless of all Murderers

This is the Chant of the Grand Cosmic Defeated,
to YOU, conqueror of Everlasting Earthly Frustration

Your Smile: Vulgar HORIZONTAL Contraction
had always been my Pain, VERTICAL PAIN
Ah! Your smiles...

Become Conscious that an UNIVERSE of SEWER hides inside You
Silent, but PATIENT, always your last heartbeat
to start its SLOW demolition Work: MATER PUTREFACTIO

And then this Flesh of Yours, once ILLUDED to change the world,
shall again FEED the Ground, and the ground, NEW WORMS,
counting a Grotesque CYCLE of Cosmic Gangrene
Born from the Wounds of Men,
the ONCE preacher of existential Depression
disclosed my Tenebrous DOUBLE,
with no Time, Sound and Size: MAGISTER SILENTII

I, King of a Woundless Reign, where the Feeble Memories of your faces
are just like YELLOWED pictures of Defuncts

Where your words, re-echoing far in time,
sound like Laments of a Dying Bat
And those Wounds, once Deep and ATROX
are only Dead Masks on a tragic Marble

And wherever I touch you, or kiss you,
or lay my hands on you
I can feel the Cold Bones of a Dead

[I.U.Tarchetti "Memento", 1879 - Free extract & translation]

I PROMISE
I Promise Sworn Enemy of the Virgin
Coming out of the Body of this Creature
to make her a SIGN on the Heart
of the length of a PIN
...and this sign WILL BLEED

And I promise that GRESIL and AMAND,
will do the Same
Their Hole in the Same Way

A Red Cross, and leaving on the HAND
the Holy name of MARY in Roman Characters
Engraved Deeply in the Flesh
and she became a completely Different WOMAN

And I promise that GRESIL and AMAND,
will do the Same
Their Hole in the Same Way

And she became a completely Different WOMAN
with a Face of UNCOMMON Beauty
and we went Together on a Pilgrimage

On her Grave, On her Grave, On her Grave

[Boredom]

I Feel this Dazed by the NOTHING which
is Surrounding me that, IF I went Mad
in this VERY moment, my Own Insanity
wouldn't be but, an ETERNAL sitting down
My EYES Astounded, my MOUTH's opened
my HANDS hidden, between my knees
neither Laughing nor Weeping
nor EVEN Moving, if not on Compulsion
from the Place where I'd be.
I have no more VIGOUR
to Conceive any WISH, not even a Deadly one
and not because I FEAR death, but 'cos I NO LONGER see
any difference between DEATH and this LIFE of mine
where NOBODY comes to Relieve me
not EVEN the Sorrow.
This is the First time that TEDIUM not only Tires
and weighs Down on me, it's also Worrying
and Tearing me, just like the STRONGEST of Pains.
I've got so Frightened by the VANITY of things
and the Condition of Mankind - Death of every Passion -
as they're ALL DEAD, in My Heart
that I'm going Insane, thinking that my DESPAIR itself
isn't BUT NOTHING
Farewell