SNOWHITE's MUSHROOM

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
and from the love of my father for this sea this house was born
as a matter of fact the people call it the little mushroom or Snowhite, as the seven dwarfs follow from the south-east
when the reed thicket was all around here and the sea was seven feet far from the gate so that we had to tie the boat to it otherwise was washed away 

… and when the waves yell storming the sea and the soul
three times the sea broke into you home before the breakwaters were put to remit: the sanatoria
and my dreaming started and here I studied guitar one single day, and the first girl-friends and getting drunk and so much laughing

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
now I have to destroy you… what am I sayin’? fixing you up, never I minded for myself, but to put inside the people I have to fix you up, home
as well as for my sister’s room, or room of the guests, the room always empty, that is the only one I painted bright new, years ago
it’s my psychology: do for the others what I’ll never do for myself
that's why I want a son now: so that I’ll even create some wealth, material wealth
or better said to start the materialization of the wealth the beings coming to this world always carry along with them.
What I’m creating alone is abstract wealth, poetry.
Poetry, you’ve been my companion forever in this house, only you’re still here, only you resist the years
my daughter came and went away… just here in this very room during a Christmas night, cold dark and stormy night, I told to you Anita, if we keep going on like this Parvati will come, and you said, ok let’s go on!

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
this the house of my mom: white the house Bianca my mom then really white in the coffin white cold mom, and we discovered that the house was not yours, but yes it was in spirit
indeed nobody had me cleared off when I squatted you little mushroom, I enrolled at Rome’s university and instead secretly I came here at the Hippies’ University to smoke at the Giardini, and many of those we are alive, still

and here inside you, home, we had a Hippies’ Community, with all the jealousy dramas of our free love

… and the sea’s waves rocked my dreams
while I was here paralyzed at the table for having eaten to much Pakistani haschisch, a node in the stomach total paralysis all night long only my eyes awaken watchin’ out by the window until the first sunray broke in, and I could move one finger

… and when the waves yell storming the sea and the soul
the grayness the violence the years of lead a lot of laugh and then the pounds of smoke stashed in the garden and the life became heavy a fatigue that fixing heroin was needed just to stand up
and Mefisto the fisherman with no time for sleeping, who was coming here at night to have a fix in the bathroom and hanging on the sofa before to sail again at two o’clock in the morning, cold winter mornings, not before offering to us lobsters and usbani and cods
while he was telling us stories about the dolphins, the only fishermen’s friends in the high seas  

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
and the joy of the babe playing with the dog, and the flowers the climbing roses, and the summers the winters while I was coming and going, a couple of years around the world 'n' few months here, and again and again
while collecting here relics stones sands feathers seeds, gift of the continents, and you home were becoming all an altar and masques and animals’ heads and cobras and rattlesnakes skins and paintings and Asian Gods statues and grandma’s Mary that one day eventually I forgive and took out from the dungeon
and the all of them now I’ve to take away with the sea’s waves rocking my dreams


… and when the waves yell storming the sea and the soul
and you were dying here Anita, and you died mom just when I was cruising this sea, and you died dad in a house only two hundreds yards away
and the doors broken down the locks destroyed by my fury raging scaring you little Parvati, and my heart becoming small and hard
and the force growing every day of pain of tragedy of sorrow the force growing clinging to the life and from the memory is born the future with the ages chasing each other backward with the future pulling on the past like always was

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
with my hands in the dirt pasted to the plants when I was discovering not to be ever alone with my beloved plants calling me back through the oceans whenever they feel bad
and the cats, León, Tigrillo that I saw newborn and now has three legs, like me
who furious with arousement when the waves yell storming the sea and the soul, hypnotized I by the desire to bring the women in my house
without wanting them, willing always only to get me into them without let them into my house into my heart
'till discovering now that it makes me feel better a sweet affectionate caress than a rich fucking
and those who are screaming homesickness in my veins are the persons I did not invited here, the parties I didn’t organized, the love I did not accepted

… and the sea’s waves rock my dreams
while I greet you and from tomorrow I’ll take you down home altar coffer of my treasures little mushroom panta rei everything flows elastic world I’ll go away before feeingl old I cannot since I’m on the quest for Oroin
and Orion says to the Moon, you are my Star

 
Villa Franca, 2nd of May 2011

painting by Angelika