tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73500901098219561492011-08-11T12:13:04.671+02:00"Allora ho fermato anch'io il mio tempo. Ho incrociato le braccia non ho oltrepassato gli arcobaleni e mi sono seduta a chiedere spiccioli di latta."Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.comBlogger121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-41837406565867465142011-08-11T11:52:00.005+02:002011-08-11T12:13:04.677+02:00Visualizza qui il bando relativo al Premio Internazionale di Poesia Cinque Terre 2011 :<br /> <div> <br /></div> <div> <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&amp;pid=explorer&amp;chrome=true&amp;srcid=0B_XVzmsZKjiWYThlNDk5YzktMjE4YS00N2MxLThhYWEtNjNkMzY3NDZmMWU5&amp;hl=en_US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Bando Premio Cinque Terre 2011</span></a><br /> <br /> Una volta aperto il link è possibile modificare la visualizzazione del bando con i tasti '+' e '-' all'interno della pagina, oppure&nbsp;scaricarlo dal menu "File" all'interno della pagina.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <div> <br /> <div> <br /></div> <div> <br /></div> </div> </div> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-4183740656586746514?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-60723944558447940252011-05-01T19:09:00.010+02:002011-05-04T12:25:50.413+02:00<br /> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YAj-hvFSSWw/Tb2V1qZVMNI/AAAAAAAAALM/oyAvNWOyknw/s1600/Copertina.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601798260664905938" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YAj-hvFSSWw/Tb2V1qZVMNI/AAAAAAAAALM/oyAvNWOyknw/s400/Copertina.jpg" style="float: left; height: 400px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; width: 234px;" /></a><span class="s1">C</span>ara poetessa Anna, ho letto il suo nuovo poema, fresco di scrittura. Avvincente, delicato, profondo e al tempo stesso comprensibile a tutti perché tocca<br /> <div class="p1"> una tematica universale. Bravissima negli accostamenti, nell’uso delle parole, nel passare dalle informazioni che provengono dall’esterno alle sensazioni interiori. Bene emerge la complessità femminile dell’essere compagna e amante ma al tempo stesso madre e quindi portatrice di una responsabilità che l’uomo non riesce ad avvertire con la stessa intensità.</div> <div class="p1"> <br /></div> <div class="p1"> Un caro saluto</div> <div class="p1"> Anna Oliverio Ferraris</div> <div class="p1"> <i>Ordinario di Psicologia dello sviluppo presso La “Sapienza” Università di Roma. Psicologa e Psicoterapeuta - Scrittrice</i></div> <br /> <div class="p1"> <br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-6072394455844794025?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-13224309548535694722010-11-05T18:41:00.012+01:002011-01-08T23:03:20.618+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/TNRCcOOeHQI/AAAAAAAAAKo/CF5qQu0P1-w/s1600/CaputGauri.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/TNRCcOOeHQI/AAAAAAAAAKo/CF5qQu0P1-w/s400/CaputGauri.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536122894567742722" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background- color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">POMPOSA. </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Le poetesse, Anna Magnavacca e Paola Mastrocola, si sono aggiudicate ex aequo la 27ª edizione del Premio letterario di poesia Caput Gauri.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">La cerimonia ha avuto luogo nella Sala delle Stilate dell'Abbazia con la </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">partecipazione della psicologa e scrittrice, Anna Oliverio Ferraris.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"> </span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-1322430954853569472?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-71062269363405391652010-07-30T10:26:00.004+02:002010-07-30T10:27:40.301+02:00<div>E’ affondato nel gelo</div><div>il grande vaso di geranio.</div><div>Ha bisogno di un piccolo sole</div><div>un amore di mani</div><div>una briciola di tempo.</div><div> </div><div>Cristallo è l’acqua</div><div>nei bianchi vasi dei lontani cimiteri</div><div>abitati da preghiere bisbigliate.</div><div> </div><div>Lancia messaggi il camino</div><div>al gatto rosso</div><div>accovacciato sotto il treppiede.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Le tegole calde sul tetto dei gabbiani.</div><div>Il volo di una corsa</div><div>per prendere l’autobus.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div style="text-align: right;">Tratto da "<i>Poesia In Forma Di Lettera" Ibiskos-Ulivieri</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-7106226936340539165?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-86156554932025997682010-07-30T10:07:00.009+02:002010-07-30T10:31:50.365+02:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/TFKIRFm4cUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/yo8B0t4pMbU/s1600/InFormaDiLettera.jpg017.jpg"><blockquote></blockquote><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/TFKIRFm4cUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/yo8B0t4pMbU/s320/InFormaDiLettera.jpg017.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;" /></a> <div> </div><div> </div><div>Pubblicato nel 2010.</div><div> </div><div>"Anna parla di se, della forte identità della sua formazione famigliare che ha determinato la sua sensibilità estetica.</div><div>L'infanzia e la giovinezza si stagliano come mosaici della poetica di Anna"</div><div><blockquote></blockquote> </div><div>Giuseppe Benelli</div><div><i>Docente Filosofia del Linguaggio Università di Genova</i></div><div><i>Presidente della Fondazione Città del Libro (premio Bancarella)</i></div><div><i><blockquote></blockquote> </i></div><div> </div> <div>D'un fiato<i> </i>leggerai le lettere di Anna, ne sentirai la musicalità, ne avvertirai la poesia, perchè nella felicità e nel dolore di Anna ritroverai felicità e dolori tuoi, dell'universale condizione umana."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div>Riccardo Boggi</div><div> <i> Resp. Museo San Caprasio di Aulla (Uff. cultura comune di Aulla)</i></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> <div> <div> </div><div> </div></div></div><div style="clear:both; text-align:LEFT"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-8615655493202599768?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-41793327772951797752009-03-22T12:40:00.013+01:002009-03-22T16:19:41.151+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/ScYlw3wuCZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/FMj3wAC9vJg/s1600-h/SosteCopertina3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/ScYlw3wuCZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/FMj3wAC9vJg/s400/SosteCopertina3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315977931689691538" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"> </span></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Possiamo dormire</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">in avelli di lontananze</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">ma a volte il tempo</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">inaspettato,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">spazza via aghi di pino dal viso</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">e ci porta nuove coppe d'amore</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">sulla rotta del fluttuante vento</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">che corre nel sangue della primavera"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/ScYjtR4mUdI/AAAAAAAAAHw/zL2EHMNbcB8/s1600-h/SosteCopertina3.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: right;"> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:7;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:26px;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-4179332777295179775?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-36347909927768667122008-06-02T20:55:00.004+02:002008-06-02T21:03:03.462+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/SERCw4FkOPI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gvvQz14469Q/s1600-h/03042008240.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/SERCw4FkOPI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gvvQz14469Q/s400/03042008240.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207360476604020978" /></a> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Fra gli scogli ebbri di luce</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">allunga il corpo grinzoso</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">al sole, suo signore</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">dagli anni della fanciullezza.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ambrata sempre,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">anche nel tempo del merlo affamato.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Odora di salsedine e di origano</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">che raccoglie negli anfratti</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">liguri a piene mani</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e profuma gli impasti</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">che ti racconta e che assapori</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">con la memoria.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Non conosce le ore della calura</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e nelle sue mani,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">che un tempo si arrischiavano</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">sulle reti, scopri il mistero</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">del mare.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Gli occhi le ridono</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">in schegge di ametista:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">è una donna di mare,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">carica di anni e di sole.</span></div><div> </div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">tratta da Spiccioli di Latta, edizioni Guerra, 2004</span></span></div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-3634790992776866712?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-82601145127093221292008-06-02T20:43:00.005+02:002008-06-02T21:03:38.841+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/SEQ_zR4aglI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/5Ui-FMZlSvo/s1600-h/Immagine+001-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/SEQ_zR4aglI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/5Ui-FMZlSvo/s400/Immagine+001-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207357219353035346" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sempre uguale</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">quel sospeso terrazzo</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a ridosso della strada ferrata</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">che riempie l'aria</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">del suo trambusto.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Una veste azzurra</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">fra un paio di calze</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">del color della notte</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e lenzuola come neve;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">mattoni annegati</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">da sole e nubi di pioggia</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ospitano un rampicante violaceo</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">che sale all'alto canneto</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">divorato da insetti feroci</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">nella bruciante estate.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Fra i girasoli ubriachi di luce</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">pigolano nidi di uccelli vagabondi;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">la panchina calcinata</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">per le serate di lucciole</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e sul muricciolo </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">l'antico enigma d'amore</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">inciso a lettere scarlatte.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">L'amore........</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">oasi del cuore, soliloquio della mente.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Giardino d'inganni.</span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">tratta da Spiccioli di Latta, edizioni Guerra 2003</span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-8260114512709322129?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-87826922650801601542008-01-19T19:10:00.001+01:002008-01-20T11:28:27.833+01:00<div> </div><div>II Cenacolo Artistico letterario "Roberto Micheloni" di Aulla organizza col patrocinio del Comune di Aulla dell'Amministrazione Provinciale di Massa Carrara della Comunità Montana della Lunigiana: </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">- Premio "Val di Magra Roberto Micheloni" XXIII Edizione</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">- Concorso internazionale di poesia "Val di Vara", "Alessandra Marziale" X Edizione; </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold;font-size:13px;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">- Concorso internazionale di poesia e narrativa "Cinque Terre", "Ettore Cozzani" XXII Edizione<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; font-size:16px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Per maggiori informazioni si rimanda al sito :</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><a href="http://www.comunediaulla.it/index.php?sezione=bandi"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></a></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><a href="http://www.comunediaulla.it/index.php?sezione=bandi"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">http://www.comunediaulla.it/index.php?sezione=bandi</span></a></span></span></span></span></div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-8782692265080160154?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-66618604583833908112007-11-24T14:52:00.000+01:002007-11-24T14:55:29.659+01:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0gsyiHB6lI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ps_J6TmOnBU/s1600-h/Vita+Apuana.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136404621677423186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0gsyiHB6lI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ps_J6TmOnBU/s400/Vita+Apuana.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-6661860458383390811?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-9172895261055697382007-11-17T17:05:00.000+01:002007-11-24T12:08:42.731+01:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0A-IiHB6eI/AAAAAAAAADk/P7Q9Q1XpdnA/s1600-h/Firenze.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134171891518532066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0A-IiHB6eI/AAAAAAAAADk/P7Q9Q1XpdnA/s400/Firenze.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Ho respirato Firenze</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">in settembre – traboccante di mosti –</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">fuori verde</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">nel profondo resina di cipresso.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Palpitante d’anima nuda,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">sei pendolo che culla</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il tempo</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">nel cantare dell’acqua,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">sei clessidra che incatena</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il futuro</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">in lastricati di memoria antica.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Immobile nei tuoi portali</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">cupole, torri e cappelle</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">inviti nello splendore dei marmi</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">al santo silenzio</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">le folle che di te illuminano</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">l loro vivere.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Assaporo oggi la tua melodia,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">celeste città,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">scritta nell’eterno ricordo.</span></pre><pre><em><strong><span style="color:#000000;">Classificata prima al premio "Firenze Capitale D'Europa 2005", poesia su Firenze.</span></strong></em></pre></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-917289526105569738?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7350090109821956149.post-56301207695111299352007-11-17T16:50:00.000+01:002007-11-19T22:03:30.110+01:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0BBsiHB6gI/AAAAAAAAAD0/dMVPMLcw7po/s1600-h/Madre.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134175808528706050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Q70sNXBye9I/R0BBsiHB6gI/AAAAAAAAAD0/dMVPMLcw7po/s400/Madre.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div align="center">"<em>Madre", 1974</em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>OGGI IL GELO...</strong></span> </div><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Oggi</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il gelo della morte</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">sull’amato tuo viso.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">In silenzio rivolto al cielo</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il ciclamino,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">non vedrai fiorire</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">i lillà e le rose.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Cortina d’assenza.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Freddo nel mio cuore,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">tanto freddo.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Non bastano lacrime-parole</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">a lenire l’antico dolore.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">S’alimentano nell’ombra</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">fino al lago della memoria,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">specchio della tua immagine.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Non più la cara voce</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">fra le stanze</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">non più le serate di lucciole</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il comignolo fumante</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">il placido risveglio</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">nel respiro dell’alba</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">con il sole dentro gli occhi.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Scaduta è l’ora,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">non c’è rugiada</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">sulla mia erba</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">e i sogni</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">non colorano il mio sonno.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Adesso il tempo inesorabile</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">stringe la tua mano</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">fra intrecci d’erbe</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">e rose di funebre bellezza.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Sei in cammino</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">verso l’Eternità.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Ma, ti prego,</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">riposa su ali d’angelo</span></pre><pre><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">e aspettami, madre mia.</span></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7350090109821956149-5630120769511129935?l=spicciolidilatta.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07799033233502459567noreply@blogger.com1