Damned times E-Book

Franca Colozzo

• Herausgeber: Passerino
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

"Really alive in dark times! The innocent word is foolish. A stretched forehead means insensitivity. Whoever laughs, hasn't known the terrible news yet."
From Bertolt Brecht's lyric (1938): "To those who will come".

This collection of my poems comes from the tormented period we are experiencing, as spectators or actors of a difficult era, of a period of transition towards new and inscrutable horizons of history, now unknown to us.
My verses represent a tribute of hope in a better world and the hope that humanity will not sink into a new Middle Ages.
Considering the brutality of what is happening both in the microcosm of the family and in the macrocosm of society due to terrorist factions, including ISIS, I felt the need to raise my humble voice together with the choral voice of more enlightened contemporary poets.
Heinous murders, especially against unarmed women and children, perpetrated inside the domestic walls, on one side; massacres and massacres not only at the gates, but also within the heart of the West, on the other hand, tend in a different way to make us withdraw on positions of subordination to brute force and of relegation towards an intolerant barbarism.
In addition to all this, there are the current problems resulting from the Coronavirus pandemic that is bringing the whole world to its knees.
Hence the name "Damned Times" which distinguishes this simple collection of verses.
Therefore, forgive me some blunder or redundancy of style, the metric or the lack of metric that the different emotional situations have aroused in me according to the various circumstances.
I had the audacity to translate some poems of mine into English. Forgive me for any mistakes, since - although I use English as my custom and ambition - I cannot consider myself a perfect connoisseur of this idiom.
In addition to the topical poems, I added others of love or aimed at contemplating nature and, in particular, the sea. Precisely from this latter element, which characterizes my historical town Gaeta (Lazio region) stretching out over the Tyrrhenian Sea, I have drawn the poetic and descriptive force of situations and alternating seasons.

Dr. Arch. FRANCA COLOZZO  ̶  an Italian Architect/writer/novelist, poet, educationist, retired teacher of “Drawing and History of Art” in Italy and Istanbul (Turkey) on behalf of the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs  ̶  has been nominated in March 2018 Global Goodwill Ambassador (GGA Director~ITALY) by the influencer Richard DiPilla (Virginia – USA) and, in March 2019,  INSPAD ~Ambassador of Peace & CEO of IHC~Intenational Harmony Council by Dr. Muhammad Tahir Tabassum, President of INSPAD ~ Institute of Peace and Development, in Islamabad (Pakistan),  a NGO incorporated with the UN with special observer status & Think Tank based in Islamabad (Pakistan) and Belgium. During the seven years spent abroad, thanks to her multi-ethnic and multi-cultural experience, she organized exhibitions of Art at the Italian High School I.M.I., the Italian Institute of Culture and the most prestigious universities in Istanbul (Turkey). Multi-tasked, creative and enthusiastic with strong belief in organizational innovation, she is an excellent team worker even in a multicultural context. Passionate about justice, attentive to the rights of the weakest social classes and the importance of the education of women and children, her current focus is in writing novels, poems, essays, articles on different newspapers and blogs about Human Rights, Kashmir, Peace, environmental problems, refugees, women’s empowerment, education and health related programs, etc.  
She is at present very active on social media to promote peace through articles, comments, publications also on ACADEMIA.edu.

Leseprobe

Franca Colozzo

Damned times

The sky is the limit

UUID: e77d7fd0-240b-4589-bea6-332ef15eeaa5

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Table of contents

I embrace the sun

Mall show

Covid-19 #March, 8

The seagulls of Instanbul

Love Obsession

Late-night lovers

October 15, 2019

The colour of the soul

Tsunami

Remembering MARINELLA #Foibe_

02 02, 2020

The coming year

I do not love of Christmas

Scraps of November

Holocaust

Mare Nostrum

Epic of Israel

In memory of GLORIA

Torcello

Sun pool

Alice and the carob tree

The blond ghost

Hermit

September 23, 2019

POEMS ON KASHMIR

Sad destiny

I dream of Kashmir ...

Fleeing from thoughts

Sound of SILENUS

Mute Poetry on Jerusalem Delivered

"Ventotene" Manifesto

In memory of my mother

The faces of violence

Notre-Dame of the innocents

Get lost to find yourself

Flashes of life

Spring waves

Proserpina

Woman's day

Drops of springs

The shell of time

Deaf winter

Land and sea

Child brides

Thinking of my father... DAY OF MEMORY

Death merchants

Youth lover

Cavity mind

Hanging to the wire of summer

In the dark forest

Announced hurricane

Lacrymarum sĭtŭla

Insomnia

Ante omnia

September memories

Air bubble

Fiumata

Nighttime dyng

BACK TO MY SHORES #CherchezLaFemme

In the name of the rose

Symbiosis in blue

Aquarius - migrants clouds

Ghost

What do you know?

Kissed horizon

Sunny mind

Tango of youth

Tired meridians

Lost path

Ronce antique

Burkini or bikini

The well of the devil

Arab spring

The sound of freedom

Friday, November 13

The noise of the stars

Innocent eyes

I love so deeply

Modern Ulysses

I love you

Boats with refugees

#Syria. The blue girl

Justice for GIULIO REGENI

LETTER TO GIULIO REGENI

Aleppo, Aleppo...

Marching

Runaway

"Really alive in dark times! The innocent word is foolish. A stretched forehead means insensitivity. Whoever laughs, hasn't known the terrible news yet."

From Bertolt Brecht's lyric (1938): " To those who will come".

This collection of my poems comes from the tormented period we are experiencing, as spectators or actors of a difficult era, of a period of transition towards new and inscrutable horizons of history, now unknown to us.

My verses represent a tribute of hope in a better world and the hope that humanity will not sink into a new Middle Ages.

Considering the brutality of what is happening both in the microcosm of the family and in the macrocosm of society due to terrorist factions, including ISIS, I felt the need to raise my humble voice together with the choral voice of more enlightened contemporary poets.

Heinous murders, especially against unarmed women and children, perpetrated inside the domestic walls, on one side; massacres and massacres not only at the gates, but also within the heart of the West, on the other hand, tend in a different way to make us withdraw on positions of subordination to brute force and of relegation towards an intolerant barbarism.

In addition to all this, there are the current problems resulting from the Coronavirus pandemic that is bringing the whole world to its knees.

Hence the name "Damned Times" which distinguishes this simple collection of verses.

Therefore, forgive me some blunder or redundancy of style, the metric or the lack of metric that the different emotional situations have aroused in me according to the various circumstances.

I had the audacity to translate some poems of mine into English. Forgive me for any mistakes, since - although I use English as my custom and ambition - I cannot consider myself a perfect connoisseur of this idiom.

In addition to the topical poems, I added others of love or aimed at contemplating nature and, in particular, the sea. Precisely from this latter element, which characterizes my historical town Gaeta (Lazio region) stretching out over the Tyrrhenian Sea, I have drawn the poetic and descriptive force of situations and alternating seasons.

The recent Coronavirus pandemic led us to forced isolation and in this anomalous situation I cultivated poetry even more. Some of them, written just during the lockdown, have been included in the Proustian 2020 Anthology the “Combray Quarantine” Anthology www.larecherche.it

Beyond my three poems on Covid-19, I have other poems of mine published in other Anthology such as the inclusion in the 2016 Proustian Anthology "Trains", published by Recherche editorial staff, with two poems: "La Littorina", "Abstract summit of boredom"and the story: "Italian Diaspora"; etc.

Insertion in the Anthology "Proust n. 7 - The perfume of time'', July 2017, with two poems: "The garden of memories" and "Mays - May";

Insertion in the Proustian Anthology "Cherchez La Femme-Proust en Italie" with the poem "Torcello", and publications of some poems in foreign magazines: el-ghibli.org/mare-nostrum; in Galaxi International, etc.

I embrace the sun

I embrace the sun on the open terrace,

I look towards the distant sea,

accomplice in waves of incoming thoughts.

Twisted clouds play serene

while every breath is caught in the morning

by men left in vain to fight

against a ghost never seen before.

The sea seems to blink unhappily,

reluctant to be loved again,

like sun suddenly clouded,

even the smile is sailing away.

It will be summer or summer

advancing lazily, like this

Zeffiro tends to ease tensions.

As a lizard in the sun I abandon myself,

greedy for heat, and from this time

I avoid any inevitable fight.

Mall show

The curtain rises on the long tail

masked men and women lined up.

The shop jaws on command opens,

the wait is very delirious.

Like runaway horses,

wild thoughts van to shore.

The landing is there after a long wait

of souls separated by delirium.

Thoughtless, dangles thought,

the sun shines hard on the asphalt,

mirror of numbness

after so many days of squalor.

It hovers in solitary air

a seagull from the marina,

glides over the queue

flying over human madness.

Covid-19 #March, 8

In the spring I inhale the first moods,

sprinkling thoughts with bright flowers...

on the run from Covid-19,

I escape far offshore.

Slapped cliffs by waves

of iridescent rock under the sun,

shattering into foam on the shores.

Squishy wind, crazy breath...

I caress on the crest of anguish

of a sudden tsunami coming.

The sun in its heedless stillness

shines of bashful human worries,

I let myself go, hot and thirsty,

to my love that takes my breath away.

So I remember the arcane fears

of dreams piled up on the way,

to bathe me in sunny light

in the darkness spies my heart.

The seagulls of Instanbul

They weave seagulls,

white and bright arrows

in the evening of Istanbul.

Sleepy minarets and mosques

in the burnished atmosphere,

veil stretched by invisible hand.

A slight tremor throbs,

a prayer, a voice,

high and vibrant

inviting to the mosque.

It's time of silence,

of man, of God...

Only the song is heard,

only that remains...

Seagulls float in the air

like boats cradled by the waves,

they swing lightly

till you won't hear

more litany or voice.

Love Obsession

We hold hands,

exiles from life,

on the paths of time.

Love obsession,

caresses impressed on the skin,

never tired and rapacious,

from the tides brought

on the shores of today in blight.

Let us bury the anxiety of the days

in shelters to us dear ones,

on the edge of thoughts,

sad messengers

beyond the ford,

beyond the bend of the river

that brings us to the sea,

inexorable wave.

Àtropo the canvas

weaves, of the thread