Nuovi tentativi:  I
(24-25 giugno 1996)

 
 
            Corrusche brame
            Inquieta s'agita
            Messe di sogni.
 

                                                            Innalzi mura
                                                            Di gelido silenzio
                                                            L'urlo muore.
 

                                                                                                            Vento estivo
                                                                                                            La notte accende
                                                                                                            Un sogno sopito.

            Sugli occhi insonni
            Danza la pallida forma
            Sogno rubesto.
 

                                                            Volteggiano su
                                                            Disilluse pupille
                                                            Dementi brame.
 

                                                                                                            Rimbomba l'eco
                                                                                                            Di pensieri furtivi
                                                                                                            Acciottolato.

            Mi balocco tra
            Impossibili se... e
            Vani perchè.
 

                                                            Il mare, le pietre, i pini
                                                            E mel-odiose voci croate.
 

                                                                                                            Passi smarriti
                                                                                                            Nell'esilio eterno
                                                                                                            Di giorni uguali.

            Anni irridenti
            D'infimi granelli
            Cielo stellato.
 

                                                            Della tortora
                                                            Monotono richiamo
                                                            Per me, upupa.
 

                                                                                                            Neve allo specchio
                                                                                                            Non rassegnato è il
                                                                                                            Pianto di bimbo.


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: II
(11-12 maggio 1997)

 
 
            Luna di taglio
            I sogni muoiono
            Fiori recisi.
 

                                                            Non chiedere
                                                            Non chiederti nulla.
                                                            Ascolta la nota che sale.
 

                                                                                                            Tre piccoli mondi
                                                                                                            Si sfiorano, s'annusano
                                                                                                            Non si toccano mai.

            Arduo in città
            Catturare il Kigo
            Di primavera.
 

                                                            Tra luci al neon
                                                            E frastuono di clacson
                                                            Timido un Kigo.
 

                                                                                                            Dove si cela
                                                                                                            Oggi il timido Kigo
                                                                                                            Di primavera?


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: III
(22-24 maggio 1997)

 
 
            Un ondeggiare
            Di salici piangenti
            Scherza primavera.
 

                                                            Tra rade foglie
                                                            Rosso un melograno
                                                            Fa capolino.
 

                                                                                                            Da una stanza
                                                                                                            All'altra la tua eco
                                                                                                            Mi rincorre.

            Al telefono
            Nuovo gelo diffonde
            La tua angoscia.
 

                                                            Acciambellato
                                                            Di sottecchi m'osserva
                                                            E se la ride.
 

                                                                                                            Tutto il giorno
                                                                                                            Chiuso in casa
                                                                                                            Domani lunedì.

            Note antiche
            Dalla poltrona godo
            Il verde dei pini.
 

                                                            Sotto la soglia
                                                            L'ombra del gatto danza
                                                            La sua attesa.
 

                                                                                                            Salta al sole
                                                                                                            Verniciato di fresco
                                                                                                            Come un ranocchio.

            Tra ossa insepolte
            Limpide acque carsiche
            Scorrono fredde.
 

                                                            Senza un lamento
                                                            Così come vissero
                                                            Ad uno ad uno.


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: IV
(1-4 gennaio 1998)

 
 
            Chiusa la città
            In una bolla d'oro
            Sole di gennaio.
 

                                                            Sole smaltato
                                                            Stilla dagli alti pini
                                                            A goccia a goccia.
 

                                                                                                            Tra le mani
                                                                                                            Foto ingiallite
                                                                                                            Un altro inverno.

            I sampietrini
            Brillano al sole
            Passi smarriti.
 

                                                            Scroscio improvviso
                                                            Tra le pozzanghere
                                                            Pezzi di sole.
 

                                                                                                            A sera, soli
                                                                                                            Senza l'ombra dell'attesa
                                                                                                            Io ed il gatto.

            Brilla al sole
            Gocciole minute
            Limpido azzurro.
 

                                                            Nuovamente qui
                                                            A disporre radi fiori
                                                            Sul tuo ricordo.
 

                                                                                                            Un soprassalto
                                                                                                            La cenere ed il sonno
                                                                                                            Scrollo via.

            Innaffio i fiori
            Sul balcone
            Un fiume di stelle.
 

                                                            Radi salici
                                                            Che piantammo bambini
                                                            Sogni spariti.
 

                                                                                                            Il tuo andare
                                                                                                            Il mio restare
                                                                                                            Due solitudini.


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: V
(29-30 aprile 1998)

 
 
            Stammi vicino
            In questa fredda notte
            Di sogni caduti.
 

                                                            Le unghie del gatto
                                                            Segnano le pareti
                                                            Le tue il mio cuore.
 

                                                                                                            Solo, in compagnia
                                                                                                            D'usati rimorsi
                                                                                                            Notte d'aprile.


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: VI
(18-23 novembre 1998)

 
 
            Sul limitare
            Nuovamente libero
            Ancora indugio.
 

                                                            Si scioglie a sera
                                                            Il nodo dei ricordi
                                                            Alla deriva.
 

                                                                                                            E non credevo
                                                                                                            D'arrivare sin qui
                                                                                                            Un' altro ancora.

            Nel cielo terso
            Vociare di bimbi
            Echi d'argento.
 

                                                            Ritrovo a sera
                                                            Piacevoli rimpianti
                                                            La mia compagnia.
 

                                                                                                            Cielo smaltato
                                                                                                            Al sole novembrino
                                                                                                            Un aquilone.

            Voglia d'estate
            Fanciulle fiorite
            Perchè così vecchio?
 

                                                            Nubi violacee
                                                            Profuma di lavanda
                                                            Questo mattino.
 

                                                                                                            I desideri
                                                                                                            Non sanno far di conto
                                                                                                            Fanciulle amate.

            Tutta la notte
            Con la testa all'insù
            Inutilmente.
 

                                                            Sulla terrazza
                                                            Il sole novembrino
                                                            Viene a trovarmi.
 

                                                                                                            Sotto le foglie
                                                                                                            Verdi occhi di gatto
                                                                                                            Un altro sole.

            Sparsi per casa
            Inutili ricordi
            A Capodanno!
 

                                                            Pigiama rosso
                                                            Di nuovo bimbo, sotto
                                                            Coperte pesanti.
 

                                                                                                            Dopo il gelo è
                                                                                                            Dolce il tepore, sole
                                                                                                            Di mezzogiorno.

            Sole velato
            Un ripido pendio e
            Sono cinquanta.
 
 

                                                            Bara e rosa
                                                            Certa l'una, fuggevole
                                                            L'altra: una cosa.
 

                                                                                                            Pallido sole
                                                                                                            Avvizziti e contorti
                                                                                                            Fiori di un tempo.

            Gelo improvviso
            Il Kigo si rintana
            Intirizzito.
 
 

                                                            Sole pallido
                                                            Dietro i pini declina
                                                            Sù, rientramo!
 

                                                                                                            Niente lucciole
                                                                                                            Ma luci al neon, ecco
                                                                                                            Una marea.

            Non devo fare
            Regali di Natale
            Nè litigare.
 

                                                            Cavalli in fuga
                                                            Nubi novembrine
                                                            Come pensieri.


 
 
 
Nuovi tentativi: VII
(17-21 luglio 1999)

 
 
            Limio di cicale
            Assordante carcere
            Senza confini.
 

                                                            Ancora piume
                                                            Il trofeo del gatto
                                                            Sparso per casa.
 

                                                                                                            A notte alta
                                                                                                            Lo scandire della sveglia
                                                                                                            Tarlo incessante.

            Ehi coda dritta
            Per me queste fusa o per
            I croccantini ?
 

                                                            Sono un uomo
                                                            Che scrive i suoi versi
                                                            A mezza via.
 

                                                                                                            Uccelli ed auto
                                                                                                            In gara per svegliarmi
                                                                                                            Ma a chi la palma ?

            Accoccolato
            Su ricordi passati
            Li ho vegliati.
 

                                                            E' quasi bello
                                                            (la farfalla riposa)
                                                            Spoglio roveto.
 

                                                                                                            Ma l'incostante
                                                                                                            Al richiamo del vento
                                                                                                            Se ne vola via.

            I sogni filo
            In un bozzolo chiuso di
            Solitudine
 

                                                            Quattro di luglio
                                                            In tuo ricordo veglio
                                                            Fiore reciso.
 

                                                                                                            I rimorsi alle
                                                                                                            Volte, si acquietano
                                                                                                            Alta la luna.

            Della tortora
            I bavosi richiami
            Ciechi rimorsi.
 

                                                            Pioggia dorata
                                                            Gocciole rilucenti
                                                            Giovani getti.
 

                                                                                                            E' domenica
                                                                                                            Di là cosa faranno
                                                                                                            I miei vicini ?

            Sboccia la rosa
            Sul balcone, desiderio
            Inappagato.
 

                                                            S'oscura il sole
                                                            E l'assordante frinio
                                                            Per un attimo.


 
 
Domenica 28 novembre 1999

Bianca la luna
Ed il volto sognato
E' di neve


Lunedì 29 novembre 1999

Lascio che passi
Senza troppo agitarmi
Anelli di fumo.


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