To follow and bring out all what flows in my mind and takes on the color of emotion has always been an uncontrollable but hard habit for me; so I often did it without caring about the immediacy of my words, since it seems to me that’s impossible to keep the same rhythm of the cogitations during their verbal expression.
To take mental pauses in order to use easy words or better to use bright reasonings arouses in me the same feeling of elbow resting on the heart…so often I prefer to run the risk of being “hermetic”. Similar story for the coercion of the metrics: even if I adore Poetry, I prefer a sort of poetical prose / free verse as garments for my thoughts.
Essentially these’re the roots of my lyrics, which once I synthesized as “literary transposings of oneirical Dalinian visions filtered through the self-consciousness of the perceptive relativity”…but basically are a way – filtered by discreet introversion – to communicate the outlined part of my Innerworld.
Part of what I wrote has been translated and used as lyrics of my songs, but a part (in Italian language) is still unpublished or shared with a small group of people (correspondence or an old blog now closed) who have actually expressed an interest in them or verbally expressed thoughts on the same wavelength.
Are an exception just some essays (above all about cinema, music and Paganism) I wrote in different editorial contexts and short stories.
Recently, spurred on by the encouraging words of a couple of publishers who gloriously continued to face the publishing crisis and some critical acknowledgments, I decided to spread some “poetic” compositions in a more official and organized way. Thus was born the collection “Alloro e mal bianco“: a small uneven florilege of verses written between 2004 and 2012, enriched by Margherita Cesaretti‘s rough and twilight photography (each poem is accompanied by a photo) and the final aegis of the cover-painting, oneiric work by Danilo Capua.