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Innhold levert av Giovanni Simone Orecchio. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Giovanni Simone Orecchio eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
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Episode 6: ep. 6 - a poetry reading from Maresciàra - just a cock singing

16:54
 
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Arkivert serier ("Inaktiv feed" status)

When? This feed was archived on November 26, 2021 22:25 (2+ y ago). Last successful fetch was on September 20, 2021 05:09 (2+ y ago)

Why? Inaktiv feed status. Våre servere kunne ikke hente en gyldig podcast feed for en vedvarende periode.

What now? You might be able to find a more up-to-date version using the search function. This series will no longer be checked for updates. If you believe this to be in error, please check if the publisher's feed link below is valid and contact support to request the feed be restored or if you have any other concerns about this.

Manage episode 300900512 series 2974775
Innhold levert av Giovanni Simone Orecchio. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Giovanni Simone Orecchio eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
itunes pic
Decomposition (and how joyful and childish it is
to talk about death, or Спокойнаяночь)
yet supine because of death
or only because
of one day effort |
may a rose blossom
from the solar plexus,
or a pinky mycosis;
may flesh open wide
at the paused stern height
in order to offer a pearl
or a black stone
to who’s passing
who’s handsome thief;
hands are similar to ivies,
eyes to opals
pools for flies-
all the apprehensions
will be drank by grass

Trezza 22 October 19
______________________
untitled

I do need it
but I’d like to present you
a vertebrae of my finest /
I’d give it to you
like the royal rings
from trunk to heirs,
and because of that hole in my back
I would not fall like a boiled fruit,
instead
such as asps from the ditch
some wings would bloom,

something would,/
in order to repair, wipe out
all our doubts,
since I
as I’m now
whole and empty
can’t.

_________________________
wish

May you be the dream of a sailfish,
fresh fig and Dalco’s scythe edge;
may you be loved by a dog,
may your soul be nettle and bread like,
fire and venom like,
and your eyes like anemone and closed wings,
their fundus may remember

of a celestial web;
may you live far
from those who spasmodically
look for a reason in any phenomenon
[…]
may your back
look like a aureus field,
and your temples and thought
like brambles packed with fruits,
obscure spiders;
may yesterday
be less than exuvia,
saliva dead leaf, used olive branch diadem;
may your nervous teeth
meet many sage leaves,
and may your blood transform

at any moon blade,
your heart

horse fiber and mantis;
may your sky be godless,
may your soil be a trench with holy worms,
a rug of moss and sharp ferns;
may your sea go mentally white,
meditate green-blue,
may that blue vomit
silvery fish
and tentacles curling for lemon drops;
may you be like star and Siringe, Agdistis,
intersexual Hellenic concepts,
may you love when rain plays branches;
may be damned time and its infernal wheel
its swarming repetition of tortures and liberations
revolutions and twists repeated to whip and nausea
to grindstone and hustle of dumbs and war.
may your right to be loved
meet negligible abysses,
unfold
like fresh flour on clear wood
or the clouds sliding
off the mountain side.
____________________________
days


pleasure and verse are triggered by
knife beating on the chop board.
Between them
there’s a thin line of horse meat.
Split the nerve
Cut the suet in excess
It might be
diving foreheads
in a rubber wall
intestine canvas like
quotidian membrane
to make us wish
to tear apart things nearly ended ;
to creep on roots and moss
naked,
slaughter;
to pour cheeks with ventricles juice.
It’s a splendid night to be scared,
it’s a splendid night
to be melancholic,-
moon
hammers
splits the nerve
if full,
cuts it in a glare
if new
May the sky desire this lives
meet many scythes.
Life pusillanimity walzer,
we’d better roll ourselves in a dark wave,
wear miserable aestheticism,
and your kidneys, you enthusiast man,
will be licked by hounds.
II.
after brushing the crack,
pieces were connected
with spit,
with seaweeds and mucus ;
drive with me tonight,
place on my back
ropes and lavenders
as a living mummification rilling ,
and inside,
nothing’s moving-
Catania, 24 December 19
_____________________________
i giorni

Il godimento e il verso li innesca
il coltello che batte sul tagliere.
Tra i due
c’è una linea di carne equina.
Spacca il nervo
Taglia il grasso in eccesso
Sarà il tuffare la fronte
in una quotidiana membrana
che sembra un muro di gomma
o una tela di budello
a farci desiderare
di dilaniare cose appena finite ;
di strisciare tra radici e muschi
nudi,
macello;
di grondare le guance di succo di ventricoli.
E’ una sera splendida per aver paura,
è una splendida sera
per aver malinconia di se stessi,-
la luna
spacca il nervo se piena
come martello,
lo taglia in un baleno
se nuova
Voglia il cielo che queste vite
incontrino molte falci.
Vita walzer di vigliaccheria,
faremmo bene a rotolarci in un’onda nera,
a vestirci di mesto estetismo,
e le tue reni, uomo entusiasta,
le leccheranno i cani.
II.
Sfiorato lo schianto,
i pezzi erano collegati
con lo sputo,
con le alghe e col muco ;
guida con me stanotte,
poni sulla mia schiena
cime e lavande
come una mummificazione
in piena vita che scorre,
e dentro
non si muove niente-
Catania, 24 Dicembre 19

  continue reading

7 episoder

Artwork
iconDel
 

Arkivert serier ("Inaktiv feed" status)

When? This feed was archived on November 26, 2021 22:25 (2+ y ago). Last successful fetch was on September 20, 2021 05:09 (2+ y ago)

Why? Inaktiv feed status. Våre servere kunne ikke hente en gyldig podcast feed for en vedvarende periode.

What now? You might be able to find a more up-to-date version using the search function. This series will no longer be checked for updates. If you believe this to be in error, please check if the publisher's feed link below is valid and contact support to request the feed be restored or if you have any other concerns about this.

Manage episode 300900512 series 2974775
Innhold levert av Giovanni Simone Orecchio. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Giovanni Simone Orecchio eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
itunes pic
Decomposition (and how joyful and childish it is
to talk about death, or Спокойнаяночь)
yet supine because of death
or only because
of one day effort |
may a rose blossom
from the solar plexus,
or a pinky mycosis;
may flesh open wide
at the paused stern height
in order to offer a pearl
or a black stone
to who’s passing
who’s handsome thief;
hands are similar to ivies,
eyes to opals
pools for flies-
all the apprehensions
will be drank by grass

Trezza 22 October 19
______________________
untitled

I do need it
but I’d like to present you
a vertebrae of my finest /
I’d give it to you
like the royal rings
from trunk to heirs,
and because of that hole in my back
I would not fall like a boiled fruit,
instead
such as asps from the ditch
some wings would bloom,

something would,/
in order to repair, wipe out
all our doubts,
since I
as I’m now
whole and empty
can’t.

_________________________
wish

May you be the dream of a sailfish,
fresh fig and Dalco’s scythe edge;
may you be loved by a dog,
may your soul be nettle and bread like,
fire and venom like,
and your eyes like anemone and closed wings,
their fundus may remember

of a celestial web;
may you live far
from those who spasmodically
look for a reason in any phenomenon
[…]
may your back
look like a aureus field,
and your temples and thought
like brambles packed with fruits,
obscure spiders;
may yesterday
be less than exuvia,
saliva dead leaf, used olive branch diadem;
may your nervous teeth
meet many sage leaves,
and may your blood transform

at any moon blade,
your heart

horse fiber and mantis;
may your sky be godless,
may your soil be a trench with holy worms,
a rug of moss and sharp ferns;
may your sea go mentally white,
meditate green-blue,
may that blue vomit
silvery fish
and tentacles curling for lemon drops;
may you be like star and Siringe, Agdistis,
intersexual Hellenic concepts,
may you love when rain plays branches;
may be damned time and its infernal wheel
its swarming repetition of tortures and liberations
revolutions and twists repeated to whip and nausea
to grindstone and hustle of dumbs and war.
may your right to be loved
meet negligible abysses,
unfold
like fresh flour on clear wood
or the clouds sliding
off the mountain side.
____________________________
days


pleasure and verse are triggered by
knife beating on the chop board.
Between them
there’s a thin line of horse meat.
Split the nerve
Cut the suet in excess
It might be
diving foreheads
in a rubber wall
intestine canvas like
quotidian membrane
to make us wish
to tear apart things nearly ended ;
to creep on roots and moss
naked,
slaughter;
to pour cheeks with ventricles juice.
It’s a splendid night to be scared,
it’s a splendid night
to be melancholic,-
moon
hammers
splits the nerve
if full,
cuts it in a glare
if new
May the sky desire this lives
meet many scythes.
Life pusillanimity walzer,
we’d better roll ourselves in a dark wave,
wear miserable aestheticism,
and your kidneys, you enthusiast man,
will be licked by hounds.
II.
after brushing the crack,
pieces were connected
with spit,
with seaweeds and mucus ;
drive with me tonight,
place on my back
ropes and lavenders
as a living mummification rilling ,
and inside,
nothing’s moving-
Catania, 24 December 19
_____________________________
i giorni

Il godimento e il verso li innesca
il coltello che batte sul tagliere.
Tra i due
c’è una linea di carne equina.
Spacca il nervo
Taglia il grasso in eccesso
Sarà il tuffare la fronte
in una quotidiana membrana
che sembra un muro di gomma
o una tela di budello
a farci desiderare
di dilaniare cose appena finite ;
di strisciare tra radici e muschi
nudi,
macello;
di grondare le guance di succo di ventricoli.
E’ una sera splendida per aver paura,
è una splendida sera
per aver malinconia di se stessi,-
la luna
spacca il nervo se piena
come martello,
lo taglia in un baleno
se nuova
Voglia il cielo che queste vite
incontrino molte falci.
Vita walzer di vigliaccheria,
faremmo bene a rotolarci in un’onda nera,
a vestirci di mesto estetismo,
e le tue reni, uomo entusiasta,
le leccheranno i cani.
II.
Sfiorato lo schianto,
i pezzi erano collegati
con lo sputo,
con le alghe e col muco ;
guida con me stanotte,
poni sulla mia schiena
cime e lavande
come una mummificazione
in piena vita che scorre,
e dentro
non si muove niente-
Catania, 24 Dicembre 19

  continue reading

7 episoder

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