Ishiro Nori

Archive for agosto 2011|Monthly archive page

Home is where the heart is

In Uncategorized on agosto 31, 2011 at 11:48 am

Family is the institution that brings you to life without you asking for it, give you food and shelter and then makes you feel guilty about it for the rest of your life.

 

In Uncategorized on agosto 30, 2011 at 8:56 pm

I wish you have a good night sleep.

Don’t call me in the morning, you certainly

deserve a better wake-up.

This is not a poetry.

 

Insert a title here

In Uncategorized on agosto 30, 2011 at 1:01 pm

29 Agosto: vent’anni fa la Mafia uccideva Libero Grassi in un sanguinoso agguato.

Oggi, invece, fa direttamente le leggi.

 

in my world

In Uncategorized on agosto 29, 2011 at 7:40 pm

in my world there is destruction. lots of it.

in my world there are puddles, muddy waters, little frogs.

in my world the dawn is black and never born.

in my world the breathing is short and angry.

in my world there is smoke but no fire, anywhere.

in my world there is no earth, no ears, no cars, no houses, no people, a grey moon that casts no shadow, an blind albino monkey wrestling alone.

come in my world, be together with yourself, in dreams, in dreams.

 

 

Gentilità

In Uncategorized on agosto 23, 2011 at 7:56 pm

Signorina mi scusi per lo stato in cui mi trova: l’Italia.

765

In Uncategorized on agosto 17, 2011 at 10:28 pm

After living in a cave long enough you start to forget about light.

You think something such as light never existed.

That is your reality, you should respect that.

And no matter how people tell you that actually light still exists, don’t believe them, curse them; they are lucky, they don’t live in your nightmare.

 

Uno slogan troppo a lungo sottovalutato

In Uncategorized on agosto 10, 2011 at 12:20 pm

R-estate Anziani

 

Riflettiamoci

In Uncategorized on agosto 10, 2011 at 10:25 am

L’Uomo è l’unico animale che ha fallito nel creare un sistema armonico che garantisca a tutti i membri della specie cibo e protezione.

E’ l’ora di smetterla di crederci superiori alle altre specie.

 

Poesia intima I

In Uncategorized on agosto 8, 2011 at 5:32 pm

Passeri variopinti
passeggiano sulle grondaie
con pesanti stivali di gatto,
ridacchiano
EHEH!

Si assiepano lontano
nuvole gravide di miele

aprono scatole bucate
ecco! escono i ricordi non voluti
a mezz’aria.

Le nubi grugniscono e
si dimenano.

Prolungo lo sguardo
e ci volo attraverso.

(“The Absinthe Drinker”, Pablo Picasso ~ 1902)

In Uncategorized on agosto 8, 2011 at 1:17 pm

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