Madness as a means of sublime ecstasy by Stefano Donno

How many stories Infinity collects
an immense hissing in sleepless night
Smoke spirals collective unconscious rarefied
condense my sitting here cultivating hopes
scattered haphazardly through the streets on the snow
to invent new cruel madness that nourish the addition

The Elves of the forest passed down their knowledge to us mortals of the valley by Stefano Donno

 











My rough guide between the forests
along unknown paths among green leaves
clouds mark the sublime and slow path
just as the Lords of Nature back in the mountains
and whisper something to the ears of those who live downstream
certain of Tradition that tramanderà as a flowing hissing
for hours days months and indefinitely for ages

The tradition continues in the new Aeon arrives by Stefano Donno

 









Kings and Wizards, Knights and Emperors
a mystic dream of butterflies rules the world
the sweetness of the sacred fire and wind
propitiate happy events in the future of Chaos
between images that float in the primordial vacuum
between faint play of colors and nostalgia of ancient victories
between the thick mesh of faces who observe the new Aeon

Evocation and invocation as initiation by Stefano Donno

 













The circle and the pentacle evoke the beyond unknown 
a thin loop binds the unconscious around her neck 
and you remain awake to enjoy the eternal and the cosmos 
and it remains awake to domesticate the Silence 
where the last word becomes light as a golden breath 
in a tight game mystery that enhances body and soul

The symbol is active in nature by Stefano Donno

 










The trees like waves at the source
Quick find reading to other worlds thresholds
no one sees nothing feels nothing but only shadows
that draw careful in their hair silvery streaks
and whisper sweet words and charms of new promises
of eternal life in the woods and great wealth among gems
in front of white priests from ancient eras

Walking in a wheat field by opening the Third Eye by Stefano Donno

 









The journey to unknown verse urges the vices
the narrow road Lash consciousness the faults
and each of us as a foreigner goes to silent valleys
screaming at the ancient sky sore cursing
and a look full circle and the universe becomes dust
and you inuile the smile lies hunter at treetops
without asking what secret penetrates into your face forever

The dark side of the back by Stefano Donno

 













Do not cry on sound wings
rather run after your soul between the mirrors
reflections often get lost between dreams
and the silence of the body claiming things colors the ocean
just because each story contains a thousand stories
and none of them untie the knot in my throat and the eternal oblivion
the heart that has a strange fragrance of absence

The Invisible Masters explain what Transcendental Meditation by Stefano Donno

 













I feel the time between slow and inexorable
insects have their task or to wait for the tone
and I can already see giungerli the Masters in the sight of the LORD
park the bodies in the dim light of the sun
all in strict silence and count the infinite absences
despite the shutters closed from beyond the grave are silent
promising the usual nothing indeed tears and giving only vague cravings

The active symbols in the mind by Stefano Donno

 













This night the wind will take away the tears
to the tune of a celestial melody and shining
You will be riding the happy fate of ancient times
blow on soft pillows of poisonous beasts
the sparkling light armor and illusion
until the rise of the new dawn blazing

The Guardians of the threshold by Stefano Donno

 












Play immortality Guardians of Heaven
on the rock of memories defy the eternal cycles
lash out at the rate of a thousand drums of war
contemplate the universe of Fate proud
for them it does not hurt the eardrums Silence
the words do not kill their dreams

Fallen angels and rebels by Stefano Donno

 

















Desire that twists to linghe eyelashes 
the belt knows of death and unconscious worth 
that will, certainly the same desire not to desire 
and all those empty prayers lost in imagining 
now ... I'm tired of thinking and rain drops 
quick as not wanting to think about the beyond

Between the woods are celebrating love by Stefano Donno

 











Spring does raise your hands to the sky
and at night the fires of love astral shine
while Pan dance of joy beyond Time and Space
just to ask just to have joy and respect.

Residual powder alchemical egg by Stefano Donno

 













Under the couple breaks the red distilled fire
and then dust powder only stops the black solution
the fatigue that captures the morning the work of an angel

Transcendence and mysticism of the beyond by Stefano Donno

 













Of a country house at sunset
the wind is light almost absorbed pose
while the windows are lit up with lights
and the barking dog tied by a chain to his fate
and the sky slowly fades oblong to the marrow
and the barn rests peacefully in his silver murmurs
and creaking of wooden planks and solemn cornfields
still tender swaying slightly in the sad evening for a farewell

And i am reminded the Lord and the dead seasons ...by Stefano Donno

 











Evening fresh collapsed at border
the trees and the sky speak cable
between thin slowness gashes in the mud
roses the alchemical egg
we bear witness to the presence of other sizes
eternal damp caresses

Crystal Reflections in the rest of a magician by Stefano Donno

 












Soft line that tracks the wait
arms light caress the air
with eyes the statue breathes
and no dance was light and floating steps.
 
A face from the shadow reaches listening
swallowed up by the shadow ghosts lose their way
and the thunder roars through the clouds in a treacherous hand
and you sing in the rain sweet pieces of glass wanderers

The flames of the Phoenix reborn by Stefano Donno

 













Empty Solitude of Prime Numbers
crushed by steep walls and suspects the stars
rich in twilight gleaming floors
and look beyond the windows open sunsets
and gaze lingers lingers pierced by burning bushes
real lightning from a clear sky on campaigns burned by desires

The shadow of the almighty back by Stefano Donno

 










Portraits faces lost for years in the hands of God
the joy is worth that spread through the meadows filled
caresses slight slip on the parched earth of remorse
and there is no end to the eternal dismay that every night reinforces the shame
just as the day is about to end and the city in silence
It falls into a light sleep with no shadows or lights but only memories

Ancestral rites metric heavenly by Stefano Donno

 












Shooting in writing two lines not in line
and then I'm going to throw up the syllables too
the tip of the pencil is broken between the bones
while on the sheet you draw life
and are the first verses as broken whimpers
on wind cliffs shattered

GOD ... GODS ... ANGELS by Stefano Donno

Shy approach if I look out on the screen
the heavens respond in unison to the attack immediately
and relentlessly without fear without the oxymoron
his white head held proudly assigned task.

Without the access codes everything is denied
and god is equipped to time call waiting
just as everything but everything goes to ruin

Flocks of birds along the constellation of Orion by Stefano Donno

 
















Flocks of birds smashing windows
again say nothing brooms 
only remain in the sidelines dirty read 
while life itself scribbles night 
under heavy and defamatory accusations 
who think they know the smell of snow 
while it's all dung and ardee ashen 
and miserable fortunes by flower merchant

The cosmic battle of red ants by Stefano Donno

 










Our ancestors
tell happy to chalices and blood
the passage easier for the humiliations and fears
tell the nights spent in the street
while dropping napalm like snow
tell of cold wars of red ants
and their sad walking around the circumference

Fragments of the future by Stefano Donno

 








The train runs fast along the oxymoron of light
out the window at the passing of time it is as sweet as the apocalypse
red black convoy of despair
and there is a fabulous place to go
the winter thirsty bushes go to die without pain
while the wind erodes the narrow fingers firmly in prayer
and it is unreal the frame of the evening descends brown
and not escape the ghosts scary on the plain of excruciating hill
exhaling the madness of the day in an afternoon without peace

Storms and assaults by Stefano Donno

 

















On an island adrift in a thousand dreams
the Phoenicians who rise from their ashes sly
die in the light of the cosmos.
A stone idol remains silent
and looks at the sea that has the same color of pain.
The loud thunder as his fists angry gods
explode in psychic storms
complicit silence and fear never see tomorrow

Evocations and invocations from other sentimental universes by Stefano Donno

 
















Pay attention to your dirty eyes
eyes laughing bastards absences
of your bowels writhing singing misshapen
violent and cruel hate barbarian
in humble joys of shipwrecks
of terrible cliffs of marble
sculpted by the silence and hatred black and empty.

Day after day
work well work hard
worked as it should
on your useless verses on your canvas
work well work hard work as it should
day after day
a boycott to sabotage
everything makes sense
blush in silence of your smallness
blush of the deafening noise of your lies
that breaks the universe connections
blush
always blush
in front of the little prince
blush before the loneliness pushed into a corner
reddened by the intemperance of a revolver
you do not have the courage to challenge
for bestiality and necromancy

God does the Universe spring cleaning by Stefano Donno

 













What little peace lurks in every habit
there is compelled to free grammars and smile
we engage every day with simple devotion
moving shelves desks chairs cutlery jewelry
as if to say that the pain is consistent hypothesis
never certain until the bottom of the roads traversed the dark
never satisfied modest love for things and poses.

We fell in love with Death between tears and sweat
we picked up on stumps lit wounds never healed
what we feel we understand very well well
we know that we have to be there and stubbornly believe
without ever yielding to the gnarled wind moaning language
without ever hoping that the end of the day to a head node ports.

The universe spring cleaning you do in a day
perhaps taking advantage of the vacuum of an afternoon without sleep
without losing control while knowing to pay all
no escape as a melancholy goodbye to orange blossom.

Pilgrimage in Nothing by Stefano Donno

 











Illegal curve of fate does not stop
but it runs straight tip and decided to disaster
closed in a deserted night full of rubble
indeed it may get dirty in the mire of remembrance
imperceptible flow non-negotiable in the hope
not lost the brazen air of asking not give up
continuing to wander around in circles in the alley in the cold
counting the hours of the afternoon will go out on the waterfront
the lip biting on weary steps and long of a church
basically still burns the word open and the desire
consoling wicked smile and offends love.

It is far away stands the micro sound of a siren in the urban night
does not add up nerves are rubbed
in the obvious joke without manners passersby on holidays
sheer ignorance applaud the slaughter entertainment
to the bitter end to that anything that serves to confuse forever

The ingenuity of evil disguised rose by Stefano Donno

 











I measure the wall acute splashed accessoften i contract the silent eari hold a metal breath in the darkgasp contracted the darkness contactpleased with the slight hint step in the memoryi become the rock around the iron smile losecontaining and inhuman content wrapperi turn off the boiling crushed inert on the couchoff inside soffocoati lost in the handopen the bottom of the body passage miserablechipped the gesture in the game lost in a duelpazeinte hint at despairing sense of guiltthe nerve claim the game alivepierced weary waiting yield escape plan. 
The pain i feel the pain i think i eat insideand the desire to look back into the funnel Electricthe fate hide the cry I give to the near pastthe messy s'arrangia exact in the moment of deaththe instinct remains destroyed suddenly in uncertain havocbut never someone to return the wrong or you give the caseso wicked that does not mind the sordid mess

Before the massacre of feelings by Stefano Donno

 













Clear the massacre of blurt
the slender appeal dripping messy
everything seems strange different from before
and i do not know what the voice whispers plan
or in here before i was stopped
i felt that i saw wheezing full in me
i was talking and i could not stand at all the weight
i that i myself sitting at the bar watching you
i screamed at sunset stupid in love
i feel that your hand and caressed tired
i looked that far that i just talked floor.

Crazy building the bench broken in the center
street uncertain brisk walking sinks
in a moment the miseries and all i carry inside
it becomes silent furiously without me lift a finger

The Symbol of Love and Tradition by Stefano Donno

 

















I observe the insect hanging alien body
swings in the balance but it's not the point
i need the eyes closed because I fear
not seen not seen fear the imbalance
but being a bitter smile choke full
in the sleep center cord never stirred nor serene
i try to mend the gap of the obvious damage
without ever losing the remote control.

Decomposed stomach breath becomes bitter acid
disappearing ink glides liquid in the sink
coppery battered its fixed internal face
the full rust mirror hanging skinny to the bone
dark messy but not full of love stolen
whatever happens the rattle compose finished the day
if ever whine of joy is given me as a gift
or never hope furious gush in jubilation

The last apocalypse by Stefano Donno

 
















The fate sometimes mendacious approaching fast
perhaps to intimate tenderness outrage
to patch desperate whispers and little havoc
playing to simulate the last great apocalypse
to measure the void that attacks and rejects diligent 
but keeping in mind the painful step
in the fleeting moment of raw closed verdict
boredom rejected by force into the dark attic
even if nothing and then nothing less than the whisper
grants swinging scented believe
net cancellation of argument that makes you laugh
the theme of farewell sublimated in motto ready to screech
as persistent wheeze that a light wind chases
for a short time in the dim half-light without peace
where desire and expectation seems shorter scornful

The way of the doubt by Stefano Donno

 

















Underlying fear of restless rummaging in the drawer
i see the right tone circumstance precisely
there were a few uncertain sentence in presuppositional
or even the fiction stock in yielding to the lure in power
no one who discovers the sad and disappointed rice that almost decency
it is never hides for excess of consciousness or to inefficiency
or perhaps for lack or mere dementia
or false merit
but no no one has the audacity of the grant
or postpone the break
quite possibly the attention required
to force the barking mercy
certainly not the failure which dull the mind to love waiting
to anything that lies in forgetting
or cursed pose silly pose that takes hold in the rendering
or offense continues straight at home if nothing can refer
for simple defense
but no no clenched teeth wonders
than is forced to say,
nobody wonders what that anxiety
to run away from the stairs
in the dark like hell for that hiss
macabre almost silent inertin their ears all the misdeedshidden properly or lostbut no no one tries to savor saypetulant sometimes infastidenteindifferent without a shadow of doubt should benefit the missing pieceas if it were a temptation on his lips

The Seduction of Prime Numbers by Stefano Donno

 













I not seduce not prepare the move
non-law destinies do not produce impulses
tender but not fierce in the silence
not be destroyed but wicked believe in oblivion
not sincere in rather bleak and proud
not wasting no time the secret arrival
no glare deny if i project into the well
i can not wait please do not i see no foothold
no longer inside the soul impetus sinister
not push not to force open but close
untruthful in the coup but tremendous
not silly if the purpose contend
not entirely pain juice drink
if in the night glowing serious use
no abuse not too much about
not the right not the reverse sexed
i do not choose the excuse but I ask forgiveness
not to the martyrdom of nailing
non-controversial in implore suffer
no idleness intent but little follow
the buzz or not in vain white noise
no plane pulled back the hand does not look
made of thick side of the invent breath
not listening step indeed i lose some mourning

Black by Stefano Donno

That black worm and black again
that sinks and dark heart
black if the light does not shine that
black ripping tents forever
black and mind softens
so now black sheer relief
befits the black life that i learn
the black abyss that is poison to look
black huge and timeless black
like the giant black pride in step
light bud black perhaps hope
i do not think most faithful at night
black my heart and please volgio
black love my black my heart
i clarify the mood stand the glare
for a long time held in the snare
and nothing else wonder if that black
and even black for me inside the body
pure enjoyment i feel when I look at the black
black than on me as darkness falls
black for a black oxygen breathing
i suffer a little at least to look
then i fall i laugh and i disappear