All is poetry

Every time
in these four walls
there is my squared being
under its own astonished horizon

it watches the low energy dawn
of the incandescent lamp
and straight after
the electric sunset
bricked up by a click

The sound of survival

*foto by jmarx (click to view others)

The others
don’t touch me:

let me fall.

no memories
no sounds
no smells

i remember
only the rumble
on the asphalt
of my body

Eyes of waterfall

*foto by jmarx (click to view others)

Water
just an instant before
becoming, in a name, waterfall
mirrors its personal
choice to vaporize
a swirl towards the old stoned bed
which shape, even the next instant, it will follow
as it’s proper of a river flowing while becoming
dissolving only the very illusion in choice
with closed up eyes, puzzled
in the last stifled breath,
from its short vacuum,
to the next pounce.

©JmArX (Andrea Lucheroni)

English translation by Eleonora Matarrese to my italian version Untitled

Illusion

*foto by me

that return was
without arrival

everything was
alone
in a memory

the sun is setting
too many times

©JmArX (Andrea Lucheroni)