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Best Poems Written by Marco Magistri

Below are the all-time best Marco Magistri poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Earthquake

Trembles the Earth
again,
	again,
		again;
every jolt, collapses;
every jolt, cries;
every jolt, death
… and then only ruins
   windows empty sockets
and then only sadness
   on those broken lives
and then only tears
   on what it is no longer

Marco

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Reading a Poem

reading a poem -
in the sky and in the verses
flying herons

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The Lonely Man

The lonely man was born alone
in a dark alley left
between dirt, garbage and trash;
he was found by an old tramp,
a clochard, an homeless.
A wailing of joy and hope
for that warm and human touch
then suddenly the perpetual silence
for a new tremendous abandonment:
white lights and aseptic walls.
The dumbness marked his life,
rejected, mocked, avoided,
isolated even among crowds
as a child, as a boy, as a man;
his world forever the night,
his friends shadows and a stray dog
like him rejected, repelled:
among leftovers he was looking for food;
among scraps he was searching for clothes.
Among the waste - unexpected - a bundle:
a childish smile from the folds
untied the heart and the hardened tongue.
"No, you don’t, you will not be a beggar;
no, you don’t, you will not live in pain! "
The lonely man clutching himself
walked towards the sun,
walked towards the light.

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Death of a Dog, a Friend

I looked at Life and Death
take turns in those weary eyes;
I felt the warmth of one
slowly change into shivering
then in the cold embrace of the other.
I looked at Life and Death:
I narrowed my eyelids and I cried.

Marco

Details | Marco Magistri Poem

No, No I Have Not Enough Words

… to them

Death, death,
I would write about this death
that creeps into life
- unexpected, bloody -
with constant tremendous pace;
about this death
impressed on the pale faces
of the survivors,
of those who have escaped;
about this death,
about the eternal Cain,
that as malignant wild beast
captures  and devours
without logic or rationality;
about this death
that crazy unworthy and impure hands
stretch - macabre wings -
on the future of souls and bodies
becoming case, fate, judge.
I would write about this death
but no, no, I have not enough words
of outrage, anger and grief !

Marco

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A Moment

clouds and wind;
the moon is framed
by a white heart

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The Yellow and the Red

Two colors stand on Capitoline Hill
- the gold, the purple of the Roman era -
flag that recalls the ancient pomp
but nowadays the Yellow is for the sun
shining on the beauty of the seven hills
the Red is for the heart
of the Eternal City and its friendly folk.

Marco Magistri
Rome - Italy
7/29/15

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Blue Silent Sunrise

bllue silent sunrise
full moon above the ocean
cries of a seagull

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The Flowers and the Green Field

Tall Poppy, red petals;
no perfume in your black heart
only beauty that burning tint:
in the green field you are vermilion lamp.

Wild, savage and rugged Broom
you raise one hundred branches and thousands of flowers;
you, yellow firework:
in the green field you are drops from the sun.

You are a little cyclops, Daisy,
the white eyelashes and the golden eye;
you attract butterflies, bees and every sweet gaze:
in the green field you are pure innocence.

Violet and sometimes white pretty Bell-flower
no sounds but scent you pour around,
you turn your head toward the ground not to the sun:
in the green field you are the humble sign.

Slender Blade of Grass, simple and lithe
you from the fertile land stand out
together with your twins to form a mantle:
in the green field you are the true essence.

Marco

Details | Marco Magistri Poem

I'Ve Seen -For New Blood Contest

I’ve seen life from a lighthouse,
a tower on a rock between the sea and the sky;
I’ve seen the heavy waves of a stormy day,
dolphins, sharks and whales;
I’ve seen the beauty dance of the flimsy jellyfish
through the calm water of a blue abyss;
I’ve seen clear or dark clouds, bright or grave
undisputed masters of the air;
I’ve seen the slowly flight of the albatross,
lonely, huge and tireless;
I’ve seen flocks of migratory birds
from South to North, from North to South;
I’ve seen distant smokes, sails, lights
afar, afar, afar from me for fear;
I’ve seen the speedy seasons and the very long ones
passing by and coming back again.
I’ve seen life,
life from a lighthouse.

Marco Magistri
08/10/15