IMMAGINE&POESIA (IMAGE&POETRY) is an international artistic literary movement, founded at Alfa Teatro in Torino, Italy, in 2007. Since its inception, IMMAGINE&POESIA has continued to grow. Hundreds of poets and artists from all over the world have participated, and the movement now reaches international audiences.

The MANIFESTO of the movement consists of 10 points and has been translated into 30 languages. The fourth point suggests moments of cross fertilization for artists and poets in order to support the thesis that a literary text may inspire the creation of a figurative art work and vice versa: the result is a new and complete form of art.

 

 

IMMAGINE&POESIA (IMAGE&POESIE) est le mouvement international artistique littéraire fondé en 2007 à Turin, Italie, sous la Présidence d'Aeronwy Thomas fille du poète anglais Dylan Thomas. Les membres fondateurs sont: Aeronwy Thomas, écrivaine anglaise; Gianpiero Actis, peintre; Silvana Gatti, peintre; Sandrina Piras, poète et Lidia Chiarelli, coordonnatrice et idéologiste du Mouvement. En 2009 le poète américain Lawrence Ferlinghetti est devenu Membre Honoraire d'IMMAGINE&POESIA. 

Le Manifeste a été traduit en 30 langues et consiste en 10 points. Le quatrième point propose aux artistes et aux poètes des moments de créativité croisée à l'appui de la thèse que les Beaux Arts et la Poésie peuvent interagir et donner origine à une nouvelle forme d'art riche et complète.  

Dès 2007, année de la fondation, le Mouvement organise périodiquement des expositions et des lectures de poésies où les images et les textes littéraires sont liés.

 

IMMAGINE&POESIA è il nome del movimento artistico letterario internazionale fondato nel 2007 all'Alfa Teatro di Torino sotto la presidenza di Aeronwy Thomas, figlia del poeta inglese Dylan Thomas. Soci fondatori furono: Aeronwy Thomas - scrittrice inglese, Gianpiero Actis - pittore, Silvana Gatti - pittrice, Sandrina Piras - poetessa e Lidia Chiarelli - ideologa e coordinatrice del movimento. Nel 2009 il poeta americano Lawrence Ferlinghetti è diventato socio onorario di IMMAGINE&POESIA.

Il Manifesto, attualmente tradotto in 30 lingue, consta di 10 punti. Il 4° punto in particolare propone agli artisti e ai poeti di sperimentare momenti di creatività incrociata a sostegno della tesi che un testo letterario può essere la fonte di ispirazione per la creazione di un'opera d'arte e viceversa: il risultato è un'opera articolata e completa, nata dall'integrazione delle due forme espressive.

Mostre

A partire dal 2007, anno della fondazione, il Movimento propone periodicamente, in Italia e all’estero,  reading poetici e mostre in cui le poesie si integrano con le immagini. 

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''IMMAGINE&POESIA'' (BILD&DICHTUNG)  bezeichnet die internationale künstlerisch-literarische Bewegung,  welche 2007 im Alfa Teatro,Turin, Italien, unter der Schirmherrschaft  von Aeronwy Thomas - Tochter von Dylan Thomas - , gegründet wurde.

Die Gründungsmitglieder waren:

Aeronwy Thomas, Dichterin und Schriftstellerin

Gianpiero Actis, Maler

Silvana Gatti, Malerin

Sandrina Piras, Dichterin

Lidia Chiarelli, Koordinatorin und Ideologin der Bewegung

2009 wurde der amerikanische Dichter, Lawrence Ferlinghetti,  Mitglied im Ehrenkomitee von IMMAGINE&POESIA.

Beverly Matherne, Professorin an der Northern Michigan University, ist eine sehr geschätzte Dichterin dieser Bewegung.

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IMMAGINE&POESIA o imagen y poesía es el movimiento internacional de arte literaria fundada en Teatro Alfa, Turín, Italia en 2007, con el patrocinio de Aeronwy Thomas, la hija de Dylan Thomas.

Miembros

Los Miembros Titulares fueron: Aeronwy Thomas, poeta y escritor; Gianpiero Actis, pintor; Silvana Gatti, pintor; Sandrina Piras, poeta y Lidia Chiarelli, coordinador e ideólogo del movimiento.

El poeta americano Lawrence Ferlinghetti y el artista italiano Ugo Nespolo son los socios honorarios de IMMAGINE&POESIA.

Beverly Matherne, un profesor de la Universidad del Norte de Michigan, es un poeta muy apreciado del movimiento.

Los críticos oficiales del movimiento son: Mary Gorgy (Long Island, New York) y Enzo Papa, (Turín).

 

 

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维基百科,自由的百科全书 跳转到: 导航, 搜索 《形象與詩歌》(意大利文:IMMAGINE&POESIA) 是一個國際當代藝術運動, 2007年由詩人狄蘭•托馬斯的女兒艾羅威•托馬斯在意大利都靈之阿爾法歌劇院創立, 該運動的主要成員如下:作家艾羅威•托馬斯、畫家詹尼佩羅•阿克蒂斯、畫家西爾瓦娜•加蒂、詩人桑德里娜•比哈斯及思想家利迪婭•基亞雷利。 _______________________________________________________________________________________ IMMAGINE&POESIAは、ディラン・トーマスの娘であるアーロンウィー・トーマスによって支援され、イタリアのトリノにあるアルファ・テアトロに2007年に設立された、国際的な芸術と文学の活動を行う団体である。 マニフェスト [編集] マニフェスト(団体の活動内容)は20ヶ国語に訳され、10項目から構成されている。4つ目の項目は、アーティストと詩人の間における知識の交流の機会について提案しており、詩が芸術作品の創作に閃きを与え、また同じように芸術作品が詩を創作する者に刺激を与えるための支援を促している。詩と芸術作品のコラボレーションにより、斬新且つ完璧なアートを創造することを目的としている。 ___________________________________________________________________________________ «Живопись и поэзия» (итал. IMMAGINE&POESIA) — международное литературное и художественное движение, возникшее в 2007 году в театре «Альфа» (Турин, Италия) под патронажем переводчика итальянской поэзии Эронви Томас — дочери известного поэта Дилана Томаса. Членами-учредителями движения стали: • Эронви Томас — поэт, писатель и переводчик; • Джанпьеро Актис — художник; • Сильвана Гатти — художник; • Сандрина Пирас — поэт; • Лидия Кьярелли — идеолог и координатор движения. Членами попечительского совета являются известный американский поэт Лоуренс Ферлингетти[1] и итальянский художник Уго Несполо, а официальными критиками объединения — Мэри Горги[2] и Энцо Пэпа. Одним из видных членов движения «Живопись и поэзия» является американский поэт и писатель, профессор университета Северного Мичигана Беверли Матерн.

 

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Hot topics



TARO AIZU & GLORIA KEH

 

 Taro Aizu (Japan)

Taro Aizu (Japan)  has been writing  haiku for 20 years  and gogyoshi (five-line poetry) for 12 years featuring common scenes from the four respective seasons in Fukushima. He focuses on the rural landscape and people’s feelings for the land they inherited from their ancestors. His works are translated into different languages.

https://gogyoshiartproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/what-is-a-gogyoshi/


Gloria Keh (Singapore).

Gloria Keh (Singapore) began serious study in mandala art and symbolism in 1996 in Melbourne.

Her teacher, Georgina Fode of the Theosophical Society, played an important role in her development as an artist. She also undertook a short study course in art therapy

Says Gloria:  “ Painting provides me with a form of meditation, and I find inner peace and healing through my art.”

https://www.gloriakeh.com/

 

Donne in Versi - Poesia al femminile

 

In occasione della Festa della Donna a Torino si celebra la Poesia al femminile con la presentazione delle sillogi poetiche di Marina Rota e di Lidia Chiarelli.

Se da un lato Marina Rota ridà voce ad Amalia Guglielminetti nel suo intenso e tormentato epistolario con Guido Gozzano, dall’altro Lidia Chiarelli si misura con le parole di scrittrici inglesi e americane incontrate nel suo percorso di studi:

scrittura tutta al femminile, dunque, dall’Italia agli Stati Uniti e alla Nuova Zelanda passando per la Gran Bretagna.

Come in un processo di identificazione Marina e Lidia nelle loro rispettive raccolte poetiche prestano la loro voce alle sorelle maggiori, senza tradirle.

Un omaggio che, nelle due pubblicazioni, è completato da immagini artistiche di Fulvio Leoncini nel libro di Marina Rota, e della stessa autrice nel libro di Lidia Chiarelli.

 

Torino, Palazzo Dal Pozzo della Cisterna

Via Maria Vittoria 12

011 8612644

mercoledì 7 marzo 2018 ore 17.30

Voci recitanti: Loredana Bagnato, Rosalba Vacis

Dialogano con le autrici

Bruno Segre avvocato, giornalista, direttore de “L’incontro”

 

Alberto Sinigaglia presidente Ordine dei Giornalisti del Piemonte

Interviene il critico d’arte e scrittore Giovanni Cordero

Lidia Chiarelli's "Tramonto in una tazza" in exhibition with Gianpiero Actis's painting _ Torino February 2018

Pittura e letteratura si incontrano

Nel segno e nella parola

 

Arte Città Amica, Torino -  febbraio 2018

''Blue Birds Aren't Blue'' by Natasha Rose Clarke, New York

BLUE BIRDS AREN’T BLUE

 

She waltzed into the room 

adrift and confused by the sudden source of her misery.

 

Her hair dangled in front of her eyes hiding her now faded emerald-gray gloom.

She was a he and he was a she.

 

Her hair was knitted together by knots creating a nest

and the possibility of a blue bird living in her hair;

with the scraps of fabrics she used to sew.

 

She walks into her room sits in front of her mirror

and she wonders if she could comb through the mess.

 

But that was months ago when she wondered.

Even the glimpse of a thought of a shower

totally flies over her bird nest

as she sleeps in demise and perspiration. 

 

Blue birds, once again, are beautifully winged beasts.

How could those beautiful birds go through her hair? 

 

Their wings must've molted and died leaving marks of their presence.

When their wings grew again, they'd be brown and gray—

just like her faded eyes. 

 

The blue birds aren't blue.

 

They're gray, like unhappiness.

 

 

—Natasha Rose Clarke

Shabdaguchha Poetry Magazine December 2017

Lidia Chiarelli's Art on Shabdaguchha, December 2017

Editor: Hassanal Abdullah

TRAMONTO IN UNA TAZZA - SUNSET IN A CUP by Lidia Chiarelli (video)

E BOOK available on 

https://www.amazon.com/Tramonto-una-tazza-Sunset-Italian-ebook/dp/B072BLJNPP/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1513752417&sr=8-2&keywords=lidia+chiarelli

Sunset in a Cup, painting by Gianpiero Actis, Italy

#TramontoinunaTazza  #SunsetinaCup

Bison, digital art by R. P. - Gopakumar, Bahrain-India/Poem by Meera Nair, Kerala, India

 

BISON
 
The first time I saw him
He had come to quench his thirst
At a water hole
He drank like a thief
Sly, greedy
And in haste 
 
I traced the contours of his hoof prints 
I breathed the air that his flapping tail stirred up 
I stalked his prey
 
Then I fed on him from near
I touched his sleek hide 
And dangled from the horns on his head
 
Have you ever seen a wild bison
That you have wanted 
To tame
To own
To possess 

Meera Nair, Kerala, India

Tanka by Neal Whitman, Photograph by Elaine Whitman, USA

With the magic of Giusepe Verdi, the Whitmans are transported to 19th century Paris at a performance of San Francisco Opera: photograph by Elaine and tanka poem by Neal.
Violette
in her opera box
perfumed
bouquet of camellias 
l’impulso dell’amore

"Dew" poem by Mariko Sumikura , Japan. Digital collage by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

朝露      Dew

 

 一粒の露。葉先、その突端に辛うじて留まって、外には世界を映し、

内には生の真髄を宿している。無形のものが、形をなし、身を守るためにこんなにも円くなったのだ。

 

 七色に光を分け、強めながら、おまえは転がる機を計っている。手を触れるまでもない。この凝視にすら堪えられそうにないのだから。

 

貧しいものの捧げ物 -朝露ー 人の世の真実のように、その甘さは比類ない。夢と現実のはざま。夢の中の夢。遠くなっていく記憶。

 

 

 涙は辛く溢れるけれど、おまえに残余の粒はない。せめてわたしにそっと甘露を吸わせておくれ。今日一日を堪え得るために。

 

 

Dew

 

A drop of dew.

I see the essence of life

As the world is reflected

In this drop of dew which sits quietly

At the tip of the narrow leaf

 

Closed upon yourself

You have no doubt about

Your spherical shape

Drop of dew

 

You split the sunlight

Into seven colours

Of sparkling droplets

Always wary of falling off

But I will not touch you

Transparent as you are

You do not offend my eye.

 

I will not touch you

Gift given to the poor

Drop of dew

Sweet as the hope to find

The truth of our lives.

A round gap between dream and the real.

 

Dream within a dream

Memories fading away

 

Salty tears roll one after the other

But you cannot afford it

You are alone

 

Allow me to kiss you again

Dew drop

So I will have the strength

to carry on another day

 

MARIKO SUMIKURA

___________________

 

Rugiada

 

Una goccia di rugiada.

Vedo l'essenza della vita

Come il mondo si riflette

In questa goccia di rugiada che sta tranquilla

In punta alla foglia stretta

 

Chiusa su te stessa

Non hai dubbi sulla

Tua forma sferica

Goccia di rugiada

 

Tu dividi la luce del sole

In sette colori

Di goccioline scintillanti

Sempre timorosa di cadere

Ma non ti toccherò

Trasparente come sei

Tu non offendi il mio occhio.

 

Non ti toccherò

 

Regalo dato ai poveri

Goccia di rugiada

Dolce come la speranza di trovare

La verità della nostra vita.

Divario tra il sogno e il realtà.

 

Sogno dentro un sogno

Memorie che svaniscono

 

Lacrime salate rotolano una dopo l'altra

Ma tu non puoi permettertelo

Sei sola

 

Permettimi di baciarti di nuovo

Goccia  di rugiada

Così avrò la forza di

Proseguire un altro giorno.

 Translated by Lidia Chiarelli

 

Mariko Sumikura was born, lives and writes in Kyoto. She is the descendant of a very old family with roots in that city going back to medieval times. She studied English Literature at Ritsumeikan University. She also has interests in French Literature and modern Western philosophy.

 

Mariko Sumikura è nata, vive e scrive a Kyoto. È il discendente da una famiglia molto antica con radici in quella città che risalgono ai tempi medievali. Ha studiato la letteratura inglese presso l'Università di Ritsumeikan. Ha anche degli interessi della letteratura francese e della filosofia occidentale moderna.

 

 

 

Copyright Mariko Sumikura. All rights reserved

Our Earth, gogyoshi by Taro Aizu, Japan

 

 

 

Our Earth


We have some places
where ugliness rules,
but more places
where beauty rules

on this blue Earth

 

Taro Aizu

 

 

 

 

 

La nostra Terra

 

Noi abbiamo dei luoghi

dove regna il brutto

ma abbiamo più luoghi

dove la bellezza regna

su questa Terra blu

 

Translated by Lidia Chiarelli

Previously published in "This Precious Earth" 

Copyright, January, 2017 by Taro Aizu.

All rights reserved

 

Digital Collage by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

______________________

Taro Aizu was born in the Aizu region of Fukushima
prefecture, Japan. He lives in Kanagawa near Tokyo now.
He has been writing haiku for 20 years, gogyoshi for 12
years in Japanese, and both for 5 years in English and
French.
  Multi award winning Poet.

Paper Airplane, poem by Tzemin Ition Tsai 蔡澤民, Taiwan, digital collage by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

Digital Collage by Lidia Chiarelli

 

紙飛機

 

氣流匆匆

隨之起伏

既是壓力也是浮力

在一起投擲的那一刻

就像

擅長使用這種情況的騎士

無牽無掛,恣意飛翔

僅僅

我的臉很蒼白

我的剪影如此薄弱

但是,我假裝是自由和容易的

 

故意交錯的折線

鼓勵你的身體像

那隻青蛙拼命吸氣

所以我可以沉迷於古典主義

調解這種動蕩之中

飛過人群的頭頂

吸收了尖叫的聲音

遠離瘋狂

即使目的不知道

即使不知道什麼時候登陸

你可以去旅行

 

帶點遺憾

忘了帶孩子的祝福

帶點願望

不要打擾繞著花飛行的蝴蝶

但不要害怕

在草地上的露水浸濕了我的翅膀之前

總有一雙小手

會來抓住我的下落的身體

笑著充滿了山谷

剛剛來這裡

再次吹我高高而遙遠

Paper airplane

 

The airflow came in a hurry

Along with the ups and downs

Is both the pressure and buoyancy

While arriving together in that moment of throwing

Just like

A knight good at using the situation

Flies about, carefree, willful and at liberty

Merely

My face is so pale

My silhouette is so thin and weak

However, I am pretending to go free and easy

 

Deliberately staggered polyline

Encourages my body like

That frog desperately inspiratory

So that I can indulge in histrionics

Mediate among that turbulence

Flying over the heads of the crowd

Absorbing the screaming sounds

When far from the madding crowd

Even if the purpose is not known

Even if I do not know when to land

As you can get a trip

 

With a little bit of regret

I forget to bring the blessing of children

With a little bit of desire

Of not disturbing the butterflies flying around the flowers

But I do not need to be afraid

Before the dew on the grass drenches my wings

There is always a pair of little hands that

Will come to catch my falling body

Laughing full of the valley

As has just come here

Once again blowing me high and distant

 

Poems by Tzemin Ition Tsai

Aeroplano di carta

 

Il flusso d'aria arrivò in fretta

con  alti e bassi

la pressione ed il flusso ascensionale

 in quel momento di lancio

sono  come

un cavaliere bravo ad usare la situazione

che vola, caparbio e libero

semplicemente

il mio aspetto è così tenue

il mio profilo è così sottile e debole

tuttavia, sto fingendo di essere facilmente libero

 

La polilinea deliberatamente sfalsata

incoraggia il mio corpo come

una rana che disperata gracida inspirando

così che io possa indulgere nelle acrobazie

mediare tra quella turbolenza

volare sopra le teste della folla

assorbire il suono degli urli

quando lontano la folla impazzisce

anche se lo scopo non è noto

anche se non so quando è l’atterraggio

come in un viaggio

 

Con un po 'di rammarico

dimentico di portare la gioia dei bambini

con un po 'di desiderio

di non disturbare le farfalle che volano intorno ai fiori

ma non devo temere:

prima che la rugiada sull'erba bagni le mie ali

ci sarà sempre un paio di piccole mani

che arriveranno a prendere il mio corpo

  felice nella valle

proprio qui

per rilanciarmi nuovamente alto e distante

 

Translation by Lidia Chiarelli

HAIGA by Neal and Elaine Whitman, USA

 

image by 
Elaine Whitman (U.S.A.)
tanka poem by 
Neal Whitman (U.S.A.)

 

 

a Tibetan monk
nicknamed Weepy Lama
gives
each of us a ripe orange – 
moist wash cloths, too

Elaine and Neal Whitman live in Pacific Grove, California, where they are inspired by the places and people of the Monterey Peninsula. One place and person is the Manjushri Dharma Center and its Tibetan monk, the Venerable Khempo Karten Rinpoche. His lessons prompt Elaine and Neal to pair her photography and his poetry into a unified vision. 

PROUST N. 7 IL PROFUMO DEL TEMPO-www.larecherche.it

http://www.larecherche.it/librolibero_ebook.asp?Id=223

eBook n. 217 :: Proust N.7 – Il profumo del tempo, di Aa. Vv.
LaRecherche.it [Un accordo di essenze]

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Collana di eBook a cura di Giuliano Brenna e Roberto Maggiani

DEWDROPS-Anthology by TZEMIN ITION TSAI (Taiwan) and LIDIA CHIARELLI (Italy)

Night Affair, Poem by 蔡澤民 Tzemin Ition Tsai, Taiwan

夜之喚

 

總是來得濛濛 春之

總是來得遲遲 夏之

總是來得姍姍 秋之

總是來得早早 冬之

這夜呀

可不讓牆頭上的貓

空空地等

 

________________________________________

Night affair

 

Always comes misty, Is not that spring?

Always go slowly, Is not that summer?  

Always bring a touch of cool, Is not that autumn?

Always falling so early, Is not that winter?

And that night

Never lets the cats on the wall

wait in vain

______________________________

Un affare notturno

 

Sempre viene nella nebbia, non è la primavera?

Sempre se ne va lentamente, non è l’ estate?

Sempre porta  un tocco di fresco, non è l'autunno?

Sempre giunge così presto, non è l'inverno?

E la notte

Mai lascia i gatti sul muro

 

Ad aspettare in vano

(translated by Lidia Chiarelli)

 

 

 

 

Devil's Trick, poem by 蔡澤民 Tzemin Ition Tsai, Taiwan

Devil's Trick, poem by 蔡澤民  Tzemin Ition Tsai, Taiwan

守舊的方

框住不斷繞行的一生

再怎麼花心思

沒走出

規劃完美的跑道

終究成了個數時間的老頭兒

惡魔把戲

我擅長挖你心坎上頭的窟窿

而且住在裏頭

不時出動

抓回一些你的壞心眼

用細細麻麻的縫線  封口

醃成下酒小菜

味兒

十足辛辣

喜歡

______________________________________

Devil trick

I’m good at digging the hole in your heart

And live in it

From time to time out

I recaptured some of your bad thoughts

Sealed with thin hemp sutures

Pickled as a cold dish to go with the wine

That taste

Full of spicy

Like it

___________________________________

Trucco del diavolo

Sono bravo a scavare un foro nel tuo cuore

E viverci dentro

Di tanto in tanto uscirne

Ho riconquistato alcuni dei tuoi cattivi pensieri

Li ho sigillati con suture di canapa sottile

Li ho messi in  salamoia come piatto freddo che va  con il vino

Quel gusto

Pieno di spezie

Mi piace

(translated by Lidia Chiarelli)

 

Eternity, poem by 蔡澤民 Tzemin Ition Tsai, Taiwan

一把六百多年的老材頭

一半劈成碎片

丟入營火之中燃燒

一半磨成紙漿

引誘詩人墨客畫押

身後海浪聲節奏如此分明

抬頭滿天星斗耀眼如初

噯呀

頃刻之間甚麼是永恆

了了已然

________________________________________

Eternity

An old wood for six hundred years

Half split into pieces

Put into burning in campfire

Half is being ground into pulp

Lure the poet leave a signature

The rhythms of waves behind is so clear

Looked up, find the stars dazzling as ever

Yeah

Suddenly, what is eternity?

Completely clear in my mind

_____________________________________________

Eternità

Un vecchio legno di  seicento anni

Fatto in pezzi

Messo a bruciare nel fuoco di un campo di sosta

Metà viene ridotta in polvere

Richiamo per il poeta a lasciare un segno

I ritmi delle onde dietro sono così chiari

Ho guardato in alto, trovo le stelle che abbagliano come sempre

All’improvviso, che cos’ è l’eternità?

E’ completamente chiaro nella mia mente

(Translated by Lidia Chiarelli)

Wall Clock , poem by Tzemin Ition Tsai 蔡澤民 - Taiwan

 

守舊的方

框住不斷繞行的一生

再怎麼花心思

沒走出

規劃完美的跑道

終究成了個數時間的老頭兒

 

The Wall Clock

 

Conservative square space

Framed a lifetime of bypass

How long does it take?

To go out

That perfect runway

I will eventually become an counting-time old man

 

 

Orologio  da parete

 

Uno spazio quadrato che conserva

 Una vita di andare oltre in cornice

Quanto tempo ci vuole?

Per uscire

Da quella pista perfetta

 

 Diventerò in fine un vecchio uomo che conta il tempo

 

(translated by Lidia Chiarelli)

 

Little Monk, poem by 蔡澤民 TZEMIN ITION TSAI, Taiwan

小和尚

 

經文朗朗

聲聲入耳

心惶惶之

木魚

聲聲敲在我浮動的心坎

 

Little Monk

 

That reciting scriptures voice

Straight into the ears

Make my heart fearful

Temple Block

 

Every sound is knocking on my floating heart

 

 

Piccolo Monaco

 

Quella voce recitante scritture

Diritta alle orecchie

Rende il mio cuore timoroso

Percussioni su temple block

 

Ogni suono bussa sul mio cuore galleggiante

(Traduzione di Lidia Chiarelli)

Poème pour Camille Claudel

 

Poème pour Camille Claudel

 Il y a toujours quelque chose d'absent qui me tourmente
 Camille Claudel

 

 

(19 octobre 1943)

 

Nuages denses

corbeaux invisibles

flottants dans le ciel de la Provence

le vent s’enrage

et ouvre des fissures  bleues

 

petite fille étonnée

seule, tu écoutes la voix du silence

et regardes les grandes flaques

et l’argile brune

cadeau précieux

que la pluie de la nuit

a apporté

 

pour la dernière fois

dans une lumière irréelle

de cette boue

des créatures étranges

s’animent

caressées

par ta main tremblante

abandonnée à leur vie

 

c’est alors qu’un calme inconnu

te saisit

et tu souris

infiniment  libre

en ce matin d’octobre

à Montdesvergues

 

 

Lidia Chiarelli, Italie

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CONFLITTO DI CIVILTA' - poesia di Totò Mirabile, immagine di Gina Bonasera

Opera dal libro "Incontrasi nell'arte" di Totò Mirabile e Gina Bonasera

http://www.ginabonasera.com/

http://www.museomirabilesicilia.it/

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"Mary Ellen for Christmas" digital collage by Lidia Chiarelli, Italy

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"Bird Mitzvah" poem by Stanley H. Barkan - Photo by Mia Barkan Clarke, USA

BIRD MITZVAH

 

 

 

We rose unto the mountaintop,

to the aerie of the birds,

Tristram’s grackles,

the black, orange-tipped,

and brownish, wide-winged birds

hovering over the sacred site,

flocks swooping and dipping,

whistling, cooing and cawing,

settling here and there on the edge of

the restored walls of ancient rocks.

 

So curious at the boys with kipas,

and girls with head cloths,

gathered with and without prayer shawls,

speaking in memory of the past,

the 960 who chose death by suicide,

rather than lose their freedom,

to be captured Roman slaves,

and the seven—two women and

five children—who survived,

pardoned, whose descendants

perhaps are among these

bar and bat mitzvah boys and girls.

 

They recite prayers and famous sayings,

quotes from diaries and other writings,

and then read from the Torah,

each his and her portion,

while mothers and fathers, grandparents,

brothers and sisters and friends surround them

in a harmony of this ceremony of

entering adulthood as Jews.

 

And the birds continue to swarm

and hover wide-winged on sun winds,

flying back and forth, forth and back,

very, very curiously dipping in and out,

out and in, joining the cantillating and singing

with their whistles and coos and caws,

songs of sad remembrance and joy,

making their own bird mitzvah,

perhaps as spirits of those who battled and died,

here more than a thousand years ago.

 

 

 

—Stanley H. Barkan

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"Bird Mitzvah" poem by Stanley H. Barkan. Photo by Mia Barkan-Clarke

Photo by MIA BARKAN-CLARKE

Cross-Cultural Communications Broadside #4

BIRD MITZVAH

 

We rose unto the mountaintop,

to the aerie of the birds,

Tristram’s grackles,

the black, orange-tipped,

and brownish, wide-winged birds

hovering over the sacred site,

flocks swooping and dipping,

whistling, cooing and cawing,

settling here and there on the edge of

the restored walls of ancient rocks.

 

So curious at the boys with kipas,

and girls with head cloths,

gathered with and without prayer shawls,

speaking in memory of the past,

the 960 who chose death by suicide,

rather than lose their freedom,

to be captured Roman slaves,

and the seven—two women and

five children—who survived,

pardoned, whose descendants

perhaps are among these

bar and bat mitzvah boys and girls.

 

They recite prayers and famous sayings,

quotes from diaries and other writings,

and then read from the Torah,

each his and her portion,

while mothers and fathers, grandparents,

brothers and sisters and friends surround them

in a harmony of this ceremony of

entering adulthood as Jews.

 

And the birds continue to swarm

and hover wide-winged on sun winds,

flying back and forth, forth and back,

very, very curiously dipping in and out,

out and in, joining the cantillating and singing

with their whistles and coos and caws,

songs of sad remembrance and joy,

making their own bird mitzvah,

perhaps as spirits of those who battled and died,

here more than a thousand years ago.

 

 

—Stanley H. Barkan

 

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"HIKING WITH PETER" poem by Alex Drummond - "THE ROAD LESS TRAVELLED" fine art photo by Adel Gorgy -     America

HIKING WITH PETER

        for Peter Thabit Jones, September 17, 2016

 

Boot-shod feet, born and bred south coast of Wales

felt the pulse of Big Sur’s thumping shore,

tapped its  rhythms into poems,

then leaped, with the help of an airplane,

California to Colorado, where I met him

and was glad he was properly shod

to wind with me up among the sandstone fins

south side of Mt. Sanitas,

hiked and jogged by hundreds,

but sure to be people-free I promised Peter

on our descent north, then west, south,

and east from the summit.

 

Hour-long uphill huff and puff

failed to deflate our lungs,

left in fact whole hallways and corridors

of oxygen-filled enthusiasm

to talk poetry halfway from A to Z,

saving the other half for the less steep

meander back down.

 

Peter could pick up from where he left

the Pacific sprawled below his hillside

hermitage at Big Sur by viewing

flat Boulder suckling its own shoreline

steep off Sanitas a thousand feet below our feet.

 

Peter clicked his camera at whatever wonder

first flew into his eye, a young women clicked us

shaking hands by the mountain’s summit pole,

and shy deer on the way down

ambled in and out of focus,

as poets and the ways of poetry

filled our talk, mixed with the scent

of ponderosa pines, the slope of hillsides,

the grass of  meadows, and a certain log

we had to find to find a certain way down

the rest of the world no longer knows.

 

Fine friendly trail companion,

this man Peter, for whom poetry

ties and unties his boot laces

talks to him in his sleep, sometimes

shakes him awake, and showed him yesterday

through his boot soles how to step

from Boulder’s young pink sandstone

to its old grey granite in whatever dance

between the two will add

an audible Colorado ripple

to each new poem  

rising up inside him. 

 

 

Alex Drummond     America

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Tribute to Lawrence Ferlinghetti - Torino October 2016

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Peace Tree - installation in Agliè (Torino, Italy)

Download
PEACE DAY 2016
Installation of THE PEACE TREE, Villa IL MELETO- Agliè Torino (ITALY)
in collaboration with WORLD POETRY CANADA INTERNATIONAL
World Poetry Canada International 2016.
Documento Adobe Acrobat 147.8 KB
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"Oppressione, ribellione, Libertà" - omaggio a Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Tribute to Lawrence Ferlinghetti' poetry by Paolo Lello Gariglio (ASARD), Borgo d'Ale (VC), Italy

 

acrylic colors 60 x 70

http://sognoarcobalenoarte.xoom.it/

 

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HAIKUNIVERSE - July 3 2016

 

 

Laugharne (haiku for #DylanDay/ #1) by Lidia Chiarelli

Under the Welsh sky
only silence inhabits
your seashaken house

Laugharne, painting by Gianpiero Actis, Italy

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"An Imagist Poem for Francesco" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Painting by Gianpiero Actis

"Lawrence for Francesco: a dream", painting by Gianpiero Actis, Italy

__________________________________________________

AN IMAGIST POEM FOR FRANCESCO

 

 

The unfortunate sensation

of being hit  by a train

The sound of summer in the rain

A black cat called Nicolino

A house in a wood made of wood

A bird about to catch a fly

A fly about to die

A Magritte cloud

in a cloudless sky

A stream between two houses

A fish about to die of drink

A ship about to sink

A man without a nation

A train about to hit Francesco Conz

in a railway station

And the dark dawn

of American corporate fascism

 

 

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

 

_____________________________________