Birdie with a yellow bill, hopped upon my window sill The birdie with a yellow bill I saw just now hopped . . . upon the branch of a chestnut tree, and chirped away looking for a mate as the wind ruffled his feathers and the leaves around him. Inside, on my window sill, aContinue reading “Birdie”
Tag Archives: poetry
The Snail
Snails are molluscs or gastropods and they have only one foot. In my house in the country I had not only mice but snails perambulating around. Of course, with only one foot one can’t really say they walk. They creep or crawl. Maybe even slither. Which they do of course. There have even been snail races.Continue reading “The Snail”
Mice or Mouses?
Years ago, when I lived in the country by myself, I had to lay down the law for mice. One can’t help liking these little creatures, until one sees the havoc they can create. Yesterday a piece of chocolate left over from an Easter egg displayed a series of tooth marks on one edge. Aha!Continue reading “Mice or Mouses?”
What Happens to Montalbano?
Camilleri, the father of the Italian police commissioner Salvo Montalbano, which became a series of mystery stories published by Sellerio, was originally a stage director and playwright. It is tempting to compare him to Pirandello, the Sicilian author known for his plays and short stories and awarded the Nobel prize in 1934. Camilleri died atContinue reading “What Happens to Montalbano?”
Homeless by Choice
Gaunt, with a straggly flowing grey beard and hair, he sits huddled in the doorway of the bank at the crossing of two of the main streets in town. Or you may find him on the short street that leads to the market where he is more sheltered from the wind. Wrapped in a blanket,Continue reading “Homeless by Choice”
If only or what if
Hah! It’s not the if only of several weeks ago. It has to do with the ould verbs. Could, would, should. Will have to check the etymology. Is it subjunctive? Oh dear, here one gets into Old English. I could have, I would have, I should have. None of which is what I did. However, this led me toContinue reading “If only or what if”
Encounters
Fleeting encounters I remember, but do they? One never knows what life will hold in store. Throughout the years we cross paths with people of all kinds, for all kinds of reasons. Perhaps I was more likely to have a variety of encounters since I had a shop on the cathedral square, since the localContinue reading “Encounters”
Romanesque Memories
It must have been in the seventies. A friend of ours, one of several Marios around, was teaching a course on Romanesque art in Florence, for which a tour of France, Sardinia and Tuscany had been organized. First a word about Mario Bucci, a professor we all loved, perhaps because of, or in spite of, hisContinue reading “Romanesque Memories”
Roads not Taken, Lives not Lived
One wonders sometimes what life would have been like had we taken a different road. One can’t help but thinking of Robert Frost and the road not taken. If only … I could have … Why didn’t I? Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone is what one is because of a life that perhapsContinue reading “Roads not Taken, Lives not Lived”
Books once more
By its very nature, the printed word is an incommensurable subject. Books are a never-ending delight. Well, maybe not all of them. There are certainly some you may wish you’d never encountered, books that haunt you when you would rather sleep. Yet sometimes it is the other way around. Those nagging thoughts of what you didContinue reading “Books once more”
Books I’ll Read Again.
As a new friend, met as usual at Blue Bar, which is becoming a sort of expat Casablanca, you’ve asked me for suggestions as to what to read. I don’t really know where to start as I now sit here at my computer, having finished lunch and waiting for my “dogwalker” (I can still readContinue reading “Books I’ll Read Again. “
Last Rose Musings
On January 30th of this year, I wrote a poem about a rose. I called it the last rose and, in the end, said I would throw it out. “… an everlasting rose so beautiful in its essentiality that I hesitate to throw it out, despite the fact that it is no longer in its prime.Continue reading “Last Rose Musings”
Windows
It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. The sun streams in through a window in the wall that overlooks the square. Plants on the windowsill cast shadows on the floor, shifting shadows that change shape as two becomes four. White curtains hang quietly on either side without a breeze to stir them, kept at bay byContinue reading “Windows”
Looking
Who is looking at whom I suppose that’s a good question. John Berger writes about seeing, and touch as one of our initial contacts with the world around us. We touch, we see, and eventually we will use words in out attempts at communication. We see, we look at something, historically for various reasons. But we areContinue reading “Looking”
Friends
Our loving faithful unquestioning friends. You’ve had a dog. You’ve had a cat. Or maybe several. You’ve loved them all and they’ve loved you, each according to his nature. Dogs will welcome you upon your return from town, probably wondering why you hadn’t taken them along. Jumping up and down and wagging their tails, theyContinue reading “Friends”
Montale
Until you try it yourself, you have no idea what’s involved in translating – perhaps the most challenging is poetry. Of course, you have to know both languages but then you realize what’s involved. Meter, rhyme, and all those other things such as enjambment, whether you’re writing a poem from scratch or translating someone else’s.Continue reading “Montale”
A New Poem 2024, An Old Poem 2004
Once the dark of night was dark, a black sky with stars and perhaps a moon. Now, what nature had intended as a time of rest, has been usurped by man-made lights. Those outside my window betray the never-ceasing activity of man. As I lie there on my bed, attempting to shut out the light,Continue reading “A New Poem 2024, An Old Poem 2004”
Story For a Girl with Copper-Colored Hair
Alternative version thinking of Luca Signorelli’s frescoes in the Cathedral. The breeze came down from the topmost spire and wrapped its arms around her, sweeping her along and up the stairs. There on the topmost step, with the great bronze angel looming up on high, she stood and looked at the figures carved in whiteContinue reading “Story For a Girl with Copper-Colored Hair”
Story of the Copper Haired Girl Part II
The breeze came down from the topmost spire and wrapped its arms around her, sweeping her along and up the stairs. There on the topmost step, with the great bronze angel looming up on high, she stood and looked at the figures carved in white marble. And then she wasn’t sure whether they came downContinue reading “Story of the Copper Haired Girl Part II”
Story for a Copper Haired Little Girl
Part I: In the middle of the ocean in the middle of the sea in the middle of the plain a great rock rises up. Cliffs, smooth walls, there’s only one way in. One road you have to find as you wend your way along amidst the boulders and the cracks. Up high there’s aContinue reading “Story for a Copper Haired Little Girl “
Erika Bizzarri 