per Natale

"Natale. Giorno speciale, consacrato allo scambio di doni, all'ingordigia, all'ubriachezza, al sentimentalismo più melenso, alla noia generale e a domestiche virtù" - Ambrose Bierce

Charles

"Tanta gente urla la verità, ma senza stile è inutile, non serve" - Charles Bukowski

This is not a game, C'est La Guerre!

"La guerra in un primo momento è la speranza che a uno possa andar meglio, poi l'attesa che all'altro vada peggio, quindi la soddisfazione perché l'altro non sta per niente meglio e infine la sorpresa perché a tutti e due va peggio" - Karl Kraus

Breve l'amore, lungo l'oblìo

"Breve l'amore, lungo l'oblìo" - Pablo Neruda

anima

L'Anima

Che grande scultore sei tu
che hai scolpito il tuo volto di pietra
tra le mie braccia
e ormai amore morto
mi sei diventato figlio
ti tengo sulle ginocchia
e piango perché il ricordo di te

mi pesa come un sepolcro.

-- Alda Merinida PensieriParole <http://www.pensieriparole.it/poesie/poesie-d-autore/poesia-120403?f=a:3457>

cose sconosciute

"Ho imparato che in fatto di sesso certe cose sono belle perché sconosciute. E, con la fortuna che mi ritrovo, probabilmente resteranno sempre tali, per me" - Woody Allen

chiama le cose col loro nome...

"Dare un nome alle cose è la grande e seria consolazione concessa agli umani" - Elias Canetti

equivoci

"La madre di tutti gli equivoci è pensare che questo mondo sia fatto per viverci" - Giovanni Soriano

One more red nightmare

Pan American nightmare
Ten thousand feet fun-fair
Convinced that I don't care
It's safe as houses I swear
I was just sitting musing

The virtues of cruising
When altitude dropping
My ears started popping
One more red nightmare

Sweat beginning to pour down
My neck as I turn round
I heard fortune shouting
Just get off of this outing

A farewell swan song
See you know how turbulence can be
The stewardess made me (*see note*)
One more red nightmare

Reality stirred me
My angel had heard me
The prayer had been answered
A reprieve has been granted

The dream was now broken
Thought rudely awoken
Really safe and sound
Asleep on the Greyhound
One more red nightmare

- King Crimson

In the court of the crimson king

The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.

The keeper of the city keys
Puts shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants the funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.

The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin;
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.

On soft grey mornings widows cry,
The wise men share a joke.
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gently pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.

- Pete Sinfield

lucky man

He had white horses
And ladies by the score
All dressed in satin
And waiting by the door
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
White lace and feathers
They made up his bed
Gold covered mattress
On which he was laid
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Aaaah, aaaah, aaaah, aaaah
Aaaah, aaaah, aaaah, aaaah
Aaaah, aaaah, aaaah, aaaah
Aaaah, aaaah, aaaah, aaaah
He went to fight wars
For his country and his king
Of his honor and glory
The people would sing
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
Oooh, what a lucky man he was

- Greg lake