Luana Lani Lateast Zipsets

George Weiss to Iomare


When, at a reception, a beautiful young Parisian widow wore a dress embroidered with up fifteen meters, she was explaining the meaning



Ma mère m'a mariée ill;
mon seas mal m'a ménagée;
maintenant, Monsieur,
ménagez moi mieux.


The anecdote is almost certainly that is based on the mechanism of "tautogramma" which, based on the criterion of repetition, may be defined as a phenomenon of "initial alliteration." More simply, it says "tautogrammatico" a text in which all the words that are starting with the same letter, it generates a significant noise impact, often involving joint to "nursery rhyme effect." The
tautogramma finds himself often used in nursery rhymes in popular epigrams or ironic as that was repeated around saying that a woman got on the papal throne after the death of Leo IV, and pregnant: Pope, pater patruum, peperit papissa papellum, a sample p as frequently. Already in the '600 Dornau Gaspar wrote a punch porcorum, "the battle of pigs", 250 lines with all the words beginning with p (John Wells, however, given the composition and allocation to 1530 the Dominican Leone Plaisant). Other exercises, always with the same initial letter, you have recently Achille Campanile (a long history of poor Piero) and Margaret Atwood (a children's story, translated into Italian by Matthew Dear, which has as protagonists the Princess Prunella, Priscilla the Princess, the primary principles, three Persian cats named Patience, Prudence, and Perseverance, and a pointer named inches). A popular rhyme tells of a South Parzanese that Peter Paul, a painter from Palermo (actually the name, true, A poet Irpinia) pitta bread several buildings to get a little ... too tautogramma p is the Latin quoted in The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco Eco is the same and that, together with his students, rewrote the story of Pinocchio in the form tautogrammatica, w, of course. Eco is still to bring it the second least some diary products tautogrammate (Dante: I will say the desire of such company. I will say deified woman. I will say demotic dictamine. Following are home to tell of Dis (divorator of descendants), the sweet aching (twelve + twelve dignitaries Dodecanese), devotees of doctors telling worthy of God's divine Then dirannomi. After all I wanted to say. Marx: My manifesto shows meta materialistic. Misinterpreted the poor, activists are moving! Never Moloch maxicapitalistico Macchini malicious intentions. Will die, but you will show your majesty miniproletari. Kant: Ki kredito ke kategorie krescessero kuantitativamente?). A
tautogramma to Federico Fellini, who could not be f; Benigni wrote it in fifteen hendecasyllables praising Director: festive phrases I will put (...) movies slingshot formidable faces (...) crazy thrill you, girls, fags.
occasionally happens, however, that the remote or the classic example from the author's personality or even leave in the background characteristics of the structure (the contrainte, it seems Oulipo language of "coercion" at our Oplepo) and the ability of the author, directly addressing the content and the pleasantness of the verse.

is precisely the case with these twenty sonnets of love (and the same number of "no love") and, standing vis-à-vis, each opening to provide a double reading of the book, in duplicate form, but it is in substance opposition of tones and intentions. A strong contrast or low in a gallery of emotions that take the reader with a punch made all the more urgent by the barrage of sound, of course stronger in the case of consonantal tautogramma and even more scathing in lines of "no love":

Bello,
Benfield, mocking
bluffasti, burning

repeating lies.

Balordo,

bastard,
ordinary yokel,
fool! Enough?

Bang!



The Author's language is a universal language, despite the apparent subjectivity of content, it runs in the winds and vent paths touching, so passionate and fierce, an extensive gallery of partners who loved and hated, in their diversity, cover a wide range of characters and behaviors.
Another demonstration, this - if ever it were needed - how to write sous contrainte does not conflict at all with the guiding concept of inspiration and freedom of the author, the author, in this case, which makes absolutely no experience in his poems the presence of a "constraint", but a sort of leitmotif that serves as a continuous inspiration for singing and counterpoint.

Raffaele Aragon

Late And Stringy Period

Brief Note on readings of Napoleon and the relationship that had with books

Iomare Alessandra Palombo

Anna Maria Fabiano


"I've never seen the sea for the first time, a few days I rested o'er."


This happens to those born near the sea, almost part of it: so is Sandra Palumbo, a member of the Committee Directors of the National Center for the Study of History and Napoleon on Elba, who feels that relies on the island and sea gulls and salt air of the Island's history of itself, of his emotions and his moods grow between and wrecks, rafts and gulls , escapes and returns.

E horizons to sail through the changing nature of the choreography of the Seas, which is no coincidence that the story is told in the plural. Among

quotes, excerpts of articles, meditations on the meaning of the poem, on the impossibility of determining a poetry that is universal, it is true, as true as the sea and looking for poetry, through the logos, to escape reality and not forging, prejudice mutability and transformation, Sandra creates her pages from first to seventh sea, accompanied in his biography entrusted to one side, a memory, a omen, a search of abstraction Calvino in his corner, free from the shackles of being there without a merger with the spirit and freedom of expression.

Find me in my sea,

to understand who I am

first impact with the inner life, with a search for knowledge, with a road, what you want, with those of silk petals falling on the real ones , dreams, and dreams do not need to know and grasp, leaving salt.


Behind the berries are still green holly bush

snuff a presence ...

sea cradles and uncertainty, perhaps sometimes makes palpable but other times you mate escapes and secret refuges in chants of living.


Since I learned to respect the sea wind: the ambivalent sea, life and death at the same time, discovery and dreams, but also in the whirlpool and attraction that draws voluptuous siren song of the logic of the trip.


Three girls in the evening gown
spiluccavano the dark
indigestible texts and wine from Puglia

and try another escape, dreaming of going away, of a prison to free float the business, who is posting island and at the same time and attraction, escape, to return, to direct the vessel to be confused ... for and against the stern with the bow and the distance with the neighbor.


Among the howling of the ancient stone, the woman hobbled


woman of the sea, taking shelter under a coverlet of rain, and shells, books, bonfires, the body that bracket body to perceive and know how to woman lost in trembling fantasies, passion and sigh again and look moist sand and sun that melts the earth.


Suddenly, a fog bank

weakens the light.


Forgetfulness, short stories East, escape and fantasy, as long as you writhe in itself, past, present or future without dichotomy passage; all is lost in a cozy feeling, with the tide, massage and water mist that steams up the conscious perception, and foam interior desert, which swells with the wind and dives in the depths.


If my salvation lies in becoming barren oyster shell, moray insidious, poisonous scorpion in my blue m'inarco em'immergo to emerge in me.


the woman is a strange animal on the island, is the border between sea and sky, is starting, it's back is winning and losing, look at the horizon and the end is itself horizon.


beautiful photos taken from my book The terrace on the Island of Elba Gloria Chilanti and non-fiction and technical support of poets Manrico Murzi, George Weiss, Luigi and Toni Cignoni Bergera Iomare give the book an air of solemnity and importance which the author deserves a poem made of flesh and depth of soul sensual and mystical at the same time, and especially true because the report concise and systematic born with their own inner life and a human story of torment and participation continues to live and to sew on scraps of life as pieces of a great puzzle.

Defines A Fan Relay Switch On Ptac

Raffaele Aragon - Introduction to Tautogrammi of love and amarore

In "The Rock. Elba Yesterday Today Tomorrow "II quarter 2005 years XXXIII p.53 n.74

Authors Elba - The Duke of Sandra * Domenico Campana


struck me, 'I love a duke, you know? " Sandra Palombo. Because it struck me? Because it is well done, but above all for its own peculiarities. Although the structure is not a realistic story, particularly natural.
This is the orientation of the narrative, which follows the fashion of the prevailing culture, the United States, which is no coincidence that so often part of the university writing schools. They have the quality and the lack of wanting to "teach writing," just entering the era technology, the concept of democracy. The art can be learned, anyone can learn it: as everyone has the right to vote and build a better society, all have to beautify the world, painting, philosophy and more.
The concept of fate or a gift, even a daimon that this is reactionary.
Judging by the results of America, if not exempt us from this last period in which writers have appeared unusual, Paul Aster Mark Addon, the results were not particularly exciting, and in any case shows a homogeneity that finds its limit the realism and autobiography penny blown, scattered mostly in the typical youth issues.
attempts to overcome eventually reach a weird dreamlike, to a visionary doped more pungent than beautiful. Even our literature follows a similar path, albeit with some very personal islands, where the attempt to unite the physical reality and the fantastic reality, imagination or perception, leads to good results (think of Umberto Casadei), but exclude the public.
In her story about the Duke, Sandra is able to draw on the imagery with simple means, with a writing discharged. The story is well enough known that you can tell is the story of every woman. But this, and the means used linear, leading to remarkable results. While often a disappointment in love, the extinction
ideals, the blows of life or extreme pain at the death of a person receiving the colors of the poignant personal memory, hence the lightness of the narrative, humility, weld disillusionment and elevation. Ernestina may sound crazy, outgoing and self-dipped nell'alienazioe happy madmen, or aspirants to the madness. But how free of torment and dissipations with which its transformation is accomplished with which the imagination takes hold of a human being, does not give second thoughts or amazement. It 's a miracle kind, similar to the miracles and the capricious actions of the gods. A hand touches one of Ernestina and she knows he is entering into the joy. Since then, the dream has it, allowing it to cope with life and its duties.
I liked the tone in which the author prepares us for the miracle to list the gifts and the pains of his faith, trust acting within cassock, experience without rebellion of loneliness. Just be confident in his soul is preparing to wind extraordinary miracle reserved for the shooting and denied filled with confident self. Her husband is a good man who does not notice a thing, and how could it see? Ernestina not protest, does not threaten, do not ask. Did not even wait. And the Duke is not the door into the abyss of eroticism burning, or uprising, does not show enchanted castles, magical animals, depravity. This goes on pilgrimages. Prepares pasta with the sauce of quail. If you allow me a suggestion, would not clarify the juice too prodigious adventure. End with 'living in the room'. At this point it is clear that this is a chimerical presence. 'Hidden in the pages of a book' possibly still go ... Forget the brush, because the Dukes eat dust. 'What happens in fairy tales' ... but this is just a fairy tale!
It 's true that a realistic detail, in the fantastic stories, makes them even more lives. But it is also true that explaining fades.


Domenico Campana

* One of the four stories I wrote in Es-Temporary-24 women for a novel, Genova, Liberodiscrivere, 2005.

Maxine's Birthday Cartoon

Anna Maria Fabiano in italialibri.org

Gas-O-Line-n ° 35-August 2004

2. Poems
[Constantine Simonelli]

This month I am pleased to submit to Gas-o-line a great new book poetry of our "bombers"-Sandra Alessandra Palombo: I Sea, published Editors characters A. Cassan - Liberodiscrivere, with photographs by Gloria Chilanti. Introduction of Manrico Murzi, note George Weiss.

*************************

Women, Island, Ocean, these three elements in harmony with each other builds of this little poem ' Marine life experience and Sandra Palombo.
The title, I Sea, without conjunctions or prepositions acting as intermediaries in some way the report tells us how this is so narrow that even at times stretch the metaphorical identification. Beautiful
to that effect the first verse of this passage: "I've never seen the sea for the first time."

the first time I've never seen the sea, a few days I rested on the waves.
Since then we are together, your nose up, to scan the horizon, accompanied by winds in full uniform, the white waves, storms and rain in the mirror aqueous melancholy calm.

Perhaps the only sought mediation in this ratio underlies the second existential identification: one with his island, his little island of Elba. Why woman island is not like other women, as well as the land of the island is not like all other lands: it is a tiny universe him who is his relationship with the sea almost father-daughter.

The woman is a woman of the island

gravel bank thickened,


is a woman of sea sand that spread his cloak on the sea salt


is innocent eyes bloodshot,
salt sprinkled on the motion of free waves,
is time that enters and leaves the cosmos,
the variation of the wind, is love

the small beach on the sand, groaning

choirs under the rain.

The woman of the sea is a strange animal,

over the channel extends his gaze and then retracts

beyond the solar halo, as well Hibiscus
lies supine

dell'isola4
the woman is Mrs.
water is the island itself.

She remains silent and herself.




It 's the sea which gives you life, which protects el'ammonisce, the plasma, the educator, becoming his confessor and his confidant, preserves and provides memories, inspires him and voiced, the cadence of the seasons, and not only weather, the kind of life.
And 'from this multiplicity temporal - spatial images and scenarios that may have arisen the need to structure the collection of poems in more songs, numbering in the sense progressive: the first ... second ... third sea and attached to his lines and interspersed with numerous quotations from other, authoritative or not, even up to enter - as if to break the atmosphere of romance and stay anchored to reality - sidebars newspaper with the date of the period to which the verses are
relate. Experiment
unusual and somewhat daring, but overall payor.
E 'as if' by Sandra, to acquire a thick poematico, wanted to collect more items possible among those who on the one hand, those for the other, are dear to her.
partly also because the Fifth and the Sixth Ocean Sandra explicitly addressed theme of evasion literature, made reading and writing has become almost a requirement of 'soul to circumvent the physiological "isolation" and to project his imagination more than the usual horizon, in the everyday life of other worlds.




trembling fantasies

rustle in the smoke of my old habit
switched between his lips;

play in the mind, conscious oasis

inconsistent,
between dream and waking, to reconcile the mind

with the horizon
of going daily,
that the whole man,
rarely, it is recalled.

to bypass the threshold

vegetable
welcome, without hesitation,
visions

resulting from the union of words.



The food for the journey is, in this absorbing and be ready to make in his "poieo", the emblematic opening words of Calvin "If one night a traveler .." followed by other quotes, as if to form a dialogue the highest mysteries of making poetry.

After the above, offer the best verses of the work of Sandra Palumbo, is not easy. It should be read in full for all
reap harmony in diversity. However, to offer an inviting presentation at least, I try to spiluccare here and there by sea at sea.

Ocean Prime is the beginning, almost ancestral - have cited a few verses of Genesis - the path of self discovery. E 'focus in early childhood and early flattery and vanity of life, but - as noted Murzi Manrico, who oversaw the launch of the book - even deeper fishing, fishing in the' last story is silent of embryonic After a commonly misunderstood, but that exists and is nourished by the "amniotic sea, nostalgic tripping of every human being."







dissolve blood clots in the temple of my time
and the west wind takes me
through his hair uncombed of girl posing on a cleat.

Find me in my sea,
to understand who I am,

how, why and if I
change the frame of my breast.




According Sea are gathered in the first burglary that life has brought to his adolescence, early failures. In a scenario of an old Livorno you see a grandmother and her thoughtful take it to sea and there, together, in the manifold variety of life of a beach, trying to allay the anxieties first.

The little girl, wounded before time, listened to the grandmother with the braid on her head to dispel the ghosts of nell'afa August
Livorno the old, still hears the rattling old train

. Among
wings of asphalt leading to the sea
grandmothers and children, men and women sitting on wooden
,
between odors of smoke, cutting the blue.

stony path,
between golden green, already burned by the sun, leading to the dining :

cool red-hot sand, sea foam
orange,

a piece of crushed salt and sand, smelling of shade

wood cabin.


explodes in the Third Ocean youth, the desire for love, recklessness, boldness, and the sea becomes a vehicle for freedom, a desire for research of new lands.




Three girls in the evening gown
spiluccavano the dark
indigestible texts and wine from Puglia. The blonde

aspired to pleasure,
blackberry love of a black
the red glow of a flame.

scratching the walls with the palms,
robbed
day in the old palace on the course.


Stillato

liquor from the leaves of the myrtle, with its fluorescent

I and garland
ramificai sod bare vines.

crazy daylight bluefish
squirted drops of silver.





Among the gulls intent stirring in the street corner

flirting with the sun, the water ranged

to observe the sailor.
Throw the words to sirocco,
flew eastward

enough bread and anchovies,
turn to new lands.

Let go the lines, in solitary
annihilating the panic fear of the unknown;

she fell off
thoughts that she came back, clean by the waves,
form of crystals.





In the Fourth Sea poetry is watercolor. And that depicts scenes of everyday life on the island and the sea make the trade: flying fisherman, lifeguard ... Become prey: fish, crab ... And she matures in the verses of this species belonging to the life and thought of the sea and the island.




the day dozing,
Roll the ships at anchor.

In a bend of the ocean within
ruffled by hypothesis, a lifeguard
puts on hold the rake of the thesis.

Loose hair waves dancing
the barometer, the seagulls call
water binoculars, tarnished by salt,

examines the evolution: the sea

learned to respect the wind.

yank trammel the fisherman. Deaf
the petition, coving to the network
prey meat valuable.

The fish disappears, leaving the scene.

A crab wise
the rock to gain the beach:
the result is not guaranteed.
Unfazed, the underlying sea foam.

Sounds foreign
rumati
centuries in a single infusion

give tone to the voice of the island;

Apolide spongy stone, incorporates
promiscuous spellings smoking ink;

Forest, book air
melancholy dirge
in extreme synthesis
be with my island.




the fifth and sixth Ocean we have already said as much as possible, as the prevailing theme. But such
interspersed this time with the artificial poetic life burning lived here these beautiful lines:




In the dark, blue-green, to the rhythm.
Depending on the sound of sound, or mute
viravo listening.
to emulate the moves I was unconscious.
A lighthouse and the moon to kiss in the dark
and so the waves to roll
drops.

In the seventh and final sea journey of self-worth is achieved. It is certainly not definitive. Neither life nor as as poetry. But the journey has enriched further questions but also some more awareness. E d was certainly refreshing.

breeze Caress / Flooded with spray /

cleans out his cheeks and sucks his limbs,
paths in reverse osmosis / symbiosis

disperse the anxieties

find pleasure / Retry reborn

And as a final thanks to its sea:

There, beyond the evanescent waves, I return to exist, at dawn, as the crystal of salt, and the sea around me and I dress with lace.

But there is a postscript in which Sandra builds a sense of life. Definitive? From certain categorical statements:




"And there are questions and answers do not / do not need anything in the cradle of the water / not need anything ... or
the horizon is deep / I'm the horizon / No one, not even my flesh will do its
"
would seem so. So why this your quotation Sandra?

In any authentic creation is always something that Borges would say the run, fleeing because
to spaces but not explicitly indicated by writing: and this is partly the reason why no author
characterize their work as definitive. (M. Corti)

And so life like poetry, dear Sandra. There is a something that escapes us. Until the end of each horizon, the largest, that we can build.

The room smells of coffee and croissants. On the passenger seats

the first race was dozing. The dark

unbuttoning her dress to make way for light.
Draw the door and move forward to discover
the horizon,
to discover that the horizon is not.

The boundary between sea and sky
is nothing but a shapeless mass
the color pink, pink skin of a newborn.

And it is here in my solitude
which is not solitude, surrounded by nature

that is not nature,
on a ship at sea
understand to be the seagull

searching for food among the gentle waves produced by the propeller.

And there are not questions and answers.
not need anything in the cradle of water.
not need anything Do not need anything.
.
On the benches, plastic, wipe,
with a handkerchief, the salty dew,
repeating the exact same act of millions of people over the centuries
have moved into the sea at dawn.
The coast disappeared,
the ship is at sea.

extended seat legs, I cling
feather in the wind
offer only the skin of the face. And there is


between evil and sky, the hour when the mist
joins the first rays,
hour when the horizon is a reflection
gradient
I belong. The horizon is


I am deep in the skyline.

Nobody, not even my flesh,
will kidnap him and make it his own.




Alessandra Palombo, lives and works on the Island of Elba. She graduated in Literature and Philosophy at the University of Pisa, in 1989, on behalf of the Superintendent of Pisa, oversaw the selection of books to be displayed in the exhibition "Lector in Insula - The Library of Napoleon on Elba Island, staged at the Museum of San Martino in Portoferraio, and later in Paris and the Palace of Fontainebleau.
Member of the Steering Committee of the National Center for the Study of History and Napoleon on Elba, Napoleon player on his studies and in particular the collection of exile Elba, were published in the Journal of the Centre, as well as in various books and newspapers. While not abandoning the historical research for some years he devoted himself to poetry and prose. One of his short story entitled "Evening Ritual" is present "Tales 2002 - Collection Various Authors", Genova, Liberodiscrivere, 2002, and some poems were published in the Journal of the poem "Poets & Poetry."

Constantine
Simonelli.

Help Runescape Is Blocked At School

Dominic Bell on "The Rock" Constantine

POETRY
1/12/2006 - SCHOOL OF POETRY in
Mirror



Sandra Palumbo, Portoferraio, proposes the sequence Red bullying. Interesting work, stylistically diverse, energetic. Presents short shots ["Just boiling in my belly, anger / she shut iron against iron in the hope that Dike hear / The scream of helplessness and above / cast shafts of wrath / of who wants me dead / to bullying." ] and moments of broad, which also expands into, with some flattening ["Dream always strange when homes through periods of particular tension."], but with a tension of the story makes it worthy of attention: "In the dream, I climbed a ladder .. / / [...] / The house of the country, was in a large garden with lots / trees and willows and oaks and cork trees and avenues of gravel / [...] Case in which the foundations crescent moon, such as boats, unstable and oscillating / dark underground homes, homes that have subsequently revised in reality / country houses and town houses, Case of Italian and distant countries. "

Vote Of Thanks-wedding

Simonelli in Gas-O-Line



"The island"

, August 3, 2004 p.12.

The poetry of the sea in the verses of Palombo

Alessandro Palomba, IO SEA
Gloria Chilanti Photography, Introduction to Manrico Murzi, Note Editor George Weiss
A. Cassan - Liberodiscrivere

To wander in the skies of literary fame beyond the borders of the Elbe will be valuable in this book of the writings of its wings baby Manrico Murzi and George Weiss, the two poets of great renown. The first, Elba and doc-fledged citizen of the world and open to the wider experience, the second, well known in the Italian Parnassus, not Elba, but this so generous and active in the intellectual life of the island. It will add just that to venture with safe flight in the skies of poetry, not only of literary fame, the author has to With good food, gull-wing, to remain in key marine. You may greet with joy liking this book and a new presence on the island poetry, a voice that will certainly listen to and admire.

With its beauty emerged from the waves like that of Venus, Elba is the ideal place to create literature and poetry of the sea. As I write these lines I look at the tower of Marciana Marina, who has for years welcomed Brignetti Raphael, the greatest writers of our sea. Writer and poet of the sea very much appreciated the aforementioned Murcia. Two painters, my friends, each very different in style and temperament, and Italian Giancarlo Castelvecchi Bolano celebrated their works tirelessly in the sea from Elba. The second was designed the image of women-island, which is present in this book Alessandra Palombo, especially at the end. There is more of a harmony between this painter and poet that generated both, it seems, from the sea. After all, the poetic tradition with fully dedicated to the sea is not as rich as you could imagine. For Italy, the only large marine book that I can think of Montale and cuttle-bone, which is almost symphonic suite is the heart of the Mediterranean, which is the corresponding southern sea of \u200b\u200banother suite, this time Nordic, a Another great European poet: Nordsee, namely the North Sea in the famous Book of the songs (Buch der Lieder) of Heinrich Heine.

Despite what is commonly thought, the discovery of the beauty of the sea, pleasure beach and bathing and swimming and surfing, like the discovery of great potential poetic element is not an ancient ocean, even if the first great books of Western literature, The Odyssey. book is mostly ocean. The "discovery of the sea" dates from the eighteenth century and exploded in pre-romantic and romantic age. Anyone wishing to know more, consult a book published a few years ago very documented in Italian, The Invention of the sea by Alain Corbin. However, this is a great discovery especially interior, which enriches our lives and our sense of world, and this book Alessandra Palombo should also be read in this dimension of experience as a book full of inner enrichment. Some poematica will preside over the book, each section gets its name from the sea, from First to Seventh sea water. The sea beats the feeling, the rhythm, the future of a woman's life. The sea becomes word: in the echoes, in the fabric of alliteration and rhyme. The author's poems alternate with prose taken from the daily chronicle of a time long ago (made of tiny life recorded by the "Telegraph" newspaper in Livorno area, and great national tragedies like the kidnapping of Moro). in steps of poets and prose writers, in an open dialogue with the culture and history. It is a that full participation in the dialogue with the sea-solitary existence, which is above and beyond all history. The first step mentioned above, which gives the book as a sacred chrism of remote, is that of Genesis on the creation of the water. Gleaning here and there, to suggest to the reader the flavor of at least some glimmers of sustained poetic writing and soul searching, I quote several passages from the book and distant from each other. "Find me in my sea / to see who I am." "It's time to embrace the soul / to retrieve the future." "The southwest wind got up to bring a innocent love, perched on the wind for hours, in order to see the intrepid eat beach." Really happy this attack: "I've never seen the sea for the first time." And what about these three girls in a dressing gown? "The blonde aspired to pleasure, /, the notice to the love of a black / red to a soft flame." "Vibrate the ship was traveling in the dark / with its all coming back on the island." "Water bride sky sea water." "The woman island / is the Lady of the water / is the same island. / She remains mute itself. " When, in the final Postscript find lines like these "The horizon is deep / I am the horizon, I can think of any way that poetry is not superficial a path of inner realization, in some ways an example. To use the language, to my mind very suggestive, the deep psychology of Jung, was built here, through the intense contact and identification with the sea-life that is too deep, and mystery, through immersion in the sources amniotic symbolized by the water marine, and the gradual revival of every season of life emerged, a process towards self-realization. That is, towards the integration of the individual self in the fullness of a more complete and total destiny: the image of the horizon is this fundamental human experience perfectly.

Emeric Giachery

Women Beach Bottomless

Maurizio Cucchi

Alessandra Palombo,

Iomare

, Genova, Liberodiscrivere, 2004 pp 7-10



The water course unfolds horizontally, as is curved round the planet that supports us. The
begging, suffered from sea to sea, requires the aid of a paddle-stick to push the waves of memory: that baggage of passions, thoughts and beating eligible, even if sometimes messy, to reveal us to ourselves that we get to know the essence of the self: "I try me in my sea / to see who I am."
Remo-stick are the most popular songs of the singer, or Theognis Akhmatova, as the reflections better engraved in the soul in motion of pilgrims, and even snippets of news or suggestions offered by some newspapers to protect our physical well-being.
The only one that is vertical in a rush of water meets the bottom inner sole area in which dew spirit in its desire to the Seventh Sea, where the paddle-stick, deposed, does not appear, nor longer needed, since salt-water and self-consciousness that make up one unit called Iomare.
The Seagull, flying cat, still looking for a sail or a Mendel for his hunger, but the research does not bind as well, neither seek more answers.
The geometry of the star and heart rate, need help to navigate the tribulation, is contained in a single sky without a prophet who wants to climb. The metaphor he wanders the sea in the plural, the collection of water to which saddled the name of the Almighty "Mari."
The evolution of the gallant life has its story in liquids, including that of clotted blood that sometimes melts and spreads in the mall laity of dedicated time devoted to discipline and religious respect. So the First Sea

spirit, unconventional and imaginative actor, breathes among the "uncombed hair" of a childhood in pose, then still conditioned by a motivated vanity: "change the frame of my breasts," he asks.
The first swim in the salt solution are lazy and slow, lined with sleep. But the "energy ecucalipto honey," master of possession, has the force of impact with patience awaiting the feminine: the embrace cosmic will, in unity of soul and body.
Then there is the rite of purification, as the entrance to a sacred enclosure, and the time to grasp the meanings that long for vital signs, return to "penetrate the weave of fate."

The "poet now blind eyes of the soul's good, and rejoices with ease wind undoes corollas flowers, locks of hair of the game running on the grass and down the valleys: Oh, the sea amniotic!, nostalgic tripping of every human being. The Second Sea loneliness and loss of reference points become far anguish, and the taste of sea and earth moving in the halls of the heart rather than the walls of the stomach. Meanwhile, the desire goes even beyond her looks, while people and things from a popular street circuit, which in this case is the Livorno time ago, stumbling and rolling sounds pleasing. In the Third Ocean

after clement seasons, the winter is raging, so that the spirit becomes a shot in the back of a gull, while "blue fish bursting ... no / drops of silver. " Here stands the ode to surfing, one of the most beautiful ever heard: a life on the old sailing ships and the sea: they are called Columbus or Dad is always brush ... The return to the island, the needle of the compass points the "rock" as the Elbe to Ithaca. In the Fourth Sea, in water fisherman, his voice giving the crabs, sponges, octopus: beats of claws, small puffs of lungs released, flashes of wings and splashes ... tinticcio dedicated inner expression. And they are alive and pulsating algae and boats, skiing and rock jetties, Velella and oil tankers, harbors and oceans. In the Fifth Ocean is lost, yes, but full body awareness as a boat that takes us "to you, water, / I offer my body, / to you, wave, play with your head, / to you, the sea / of submarines, all / off ". In the Sixth Sea, the light vibrates el'intreccio fiber and meanings suffered and operated by assiduous fingers. There is talk, finally vibrant, and the beautiful image of an act of love: "A lighthouse and the moon to kiss in the dark, / the waves to roll off the drops."
In the Seventh Sea is the catharsis, the fulfillment of the spirit that had made the move. The abandonment of "the singing of the wind / Voice of the Sea": the woman of the island, any island as a place defined and separated, it is here designed with rich images of a living sacrifice, to be Person: changing the wave makes it look, but she is not moving.
Do not miss the conclusion of this music in the water: the Post Scriptum, Do that which comes after the ascent of the seven notes, and does start the cycle again, evokes hope and resurrection. Coffee and pastries are an early reference that delivers comfort, and the interweaving of meanings, however, takes place beyond the state-sensitive, when the horizon of his own inner life knows neither high nor low when the master receives Iomare dimensions and consciousness.

Manrico Murzi

Genoa, June 4, 2004