Nostalgia E-Book

Angelo Mercurio

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 85

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

This is the poetry collection of Angelo Mercurio from 2001 to 2016. Within the pages of this book you will find your self dancing with the stars, falling in love with strangers and travelling through space and time. Have fun investigating worlds unknown to you before.

Leseprobe

DESCRIPTION

This book (Nostalgia – Poetry For The Immortals) is the collection of poems that I wrote from 2001 to 2016. Although it’s been 15 years of work, I kept editing them until November 2016. This book contains the final versions of my poems. Worth being noticed is also the fact that I still have the very original poems from back in the early 2000’s, in a very good condition, so I can assure you, even if I edited them years later, the feeling and the atmosphere was kept exactly like the original, if not enhanced. With that being said, I wish you a good journey through my poems and may my words guide you safely throughout this book.

“This book is dedicated to the real Athena. The Goddess of wisdom who guided me to the light through many dark times. Thank you.”

Illustration and Layout by Athina Paraschoudi

WHO IS ANGELO?

“He is not Homer or Dante, for they have become immortals long before he was born to this world. He is not the book you are reading right now, nor his poetry or your thoughts about it. Angelo is a messenger of two worlds, with a mission to collect enough evidence to understand if there is such thing as immortality.”

Hi! I have decided that It would be better if I’ll let you know a bit more about me before you begin with my book. My name is Angelo Mercurio and I am a descendant of Europe’s most ancient civilization. I started writing at a very young age, shortly after I finished reading Homer’s Odyssey. Although the language I used in my early writings was not English, the fact that I had many friends from around the world made me realize that I had to use the international language, which of course was English. I have been writing short stories and song lyrics, but most of my early work remains unpublished. It wasn’t until the turn of the century that I came to believe that poetry is not simply a method of expressing feelings and thoughts, but it’s a complete language by its own. I was fascinated by it. I remember me sitting for hours reading Byron and Poe, trying to discover more and more about the beauty of words and their meaning. After I composed my first English poem I started sharing it with my fellow students, and of course, back then there was no social media. I had to show them my poems. To let them read my work. The results were unexpected for me as they were falling in love with what they were reading. “I have to let more people know” I thought and I started posting on blogs around the world. It was a time that people were slowly embracing the idea of “Internet” and blogs were an easy way to let others know and connect with you.

After years of writing I understood, what was that pure feeling that was rising from within me every time I was writing. It wasn’t the glory of people loving what I did. It wasn’t the kind words in a comment section on some poetry blog. No, it wasn’t even the fact that people were asking for more. None of these things was really the answer I was seeking to what I felt when I was writing… And finally, after a long time I recently understood. It’s the fact that every time I am writing, my thoughts, my feelings, my passions, the desires, the memories … They all become alive through the metaphors and the beauty of poetry. It is like a connection between what lies in the imagination and what is real. When I write, I feel … And this feeling becomes reality in form of words aligned in a certain order to create life. This birth-like act is what makes me want to write, like I have the need to overpopulate a paper with my words … Depicting what I feel, what I see and what I think. Materializing them for you to read my heart, my mind and my soul.

This is my first book you are reading now. It is the collection of poems I wrote between 2001 and 2016. I have divided the poems into chapters, so it will be better for you, the reader, to navigate among different subjects. All I want from you is to keep an open mind and enjoy poetry as it is. There are always metaphors and idioms in poetry, but don’t let it confuse your mind. Poetry is like love, you don’t have to understand it completely. You just need to feel it and it will shine for you.

Before I close this long message to you my fellow reader, I’d like to clarify something. If you are someone who doesn’t understand the clear difference between truth and metaphor, fantasy and reality, please go back to that Video Game you were playing, or watch some TV. I assure you this book is not for you. For all others, thank you very much for choosing this book among many others as your reading preference. It is a pleasure to welcome you into my world. Proceed with care…

EPILOGUE /:

That’s right! This book begins with an epilogue. An epilogue to all these things that existed, lived and died before the time you decided to read this book. Before you enter the gates of Hades for example, you are going through a transformation that is preparing you for the afterlife. This preparation is the epilogue of what you are leaving behind, but also the precursor of what you should expect to see after you pass the door to another dimension. In this particular situation you are the dead, this book is preparing you for the afterlife and I am Hades, welcoming you in my dimension. Beware though, many have walked inside this place before, without being aware of the fact that there is no return. Once you cross the yellow line that separates the horizon in two different worlds, there is no coming back. With that being said, you are now prepared to enter a world of poetry, memories, thoughts and metaphors that reflect all five elements. Welcome to my world.

CONTENT

Chapter I: Sanguine

Chapter II: Infernal

Chapter III: The Abyss

Chapter IV: Dimensions

Chapter V: Time Vortex

“Its crimson color reflects of what truly revives. Follow its line

and you shall be guided through past, present and future.

...Through sorrows and bouncing heartbeats.

Ask it and the answers shall come surely.”

CHAPTER I

Sanguine

Vamperotica

A bouquet of red roses falls on the ground, while the orchestra starts playing

A young blond woman is staring at me from the corner of the amphitheater

Flaming thorns cut deep inside my soul when she’s not looking

I am receiving a note written on old paper and I know that she is the sender

The night turns into a symphony of death played by instruments of passion

Before I walk towards her, she decides that she wants to come to me first

Her lips utter modern words, but her long black dress betrays her old fashion

A pianoforte signals the grand finale and all I still feel is a sinister thirst

We take a long walk and we mostly talk about Ophelia and Byron

My house is at the top of the hill and the moon still shines bright

A dead autumn night it is, but my blood is burning like poisonous labdanum

As the big black wooden door slowly becomes visible, she holds my hand tight

The inner walls are decorated with iron masquerades and long black candles

It starts raining heavily outside and she asks for a glass of wine

After two small sips of blood-red venom, she is already talking with riddles

Thunders flash outside the window and words become kisses in a blink of an eye

My fingers rest on her pale chin while I gently touch my lips on her skin

She whispers on my ear something that I will never forget

Beautiful colors mix together on the canvas as we are painting love out of sin

A trip to the Inferno has just begun and there is no time for regrets

We orchestrate chaos together, as she is the violin and I am the bow

Skin on skin, breath after breath, kiss after kiss and bite after bite

The storm gets stronger and my eyes turn black like a ravenous crow

“Would you like to be forever young and leave this mortal world behind?”

Violinheart

The more I yearn, the more I feel.

The more I feel, the more I die.

Like the fading melody of a violin echoes in an empty room,

I vanish myself in the reflection of my own shadow.

BloodAnn /444

Your face is familiar, but I still can’t see you

I can touch your face even you are not there

You darken my thoughts like the dead haunt the living

I am connecting the pieces of my broken past to find you

Every moonless night she is coming in my dreams

As innocent as a child, as hateful as a curse

Her black hair, her red lips and her pale skin

They all are memories now with a taste of regret

A queen’s pride and a soul of an angel

Her scent still reminds me of roses and rain

Death followed her wherever she went

Whatever is dead belongs with her

After every sunset she is coming back from the dark

Transforming sweet dreams into nightmares

She is the beauty as well as the beast

A distant apparition that screams without voice

Whenever my heart stops she comes alive

Standing there at the corner of my room

Wearing a long black dress together with a sad smile

It is not fear that what she is reflecting, yet it smells like hate

Under her wet clothes she looks like heaven with scars

A map of the underworld that was carved on flesh with vengeance

Her thin white hands push my heart out of my chest

An echoing whisper turns into a sharp scream