GIULIO MAGRINI

 

Betrayal

 

Squeezing blood from my heart

Extract drop by drop

Coagulating presentation of emptiness

Exists in my chest

After continual battering

Abuse accidental damages uniform

Exists happily confirmed

With promise of intimacy

 

Beloved smiles constantly exposed

Now a mask hiding ugliness and sin

Alfresco external decoration

Flaunting Christianity sacred and perpetually insured

Certainty through chiseler faith

Frauds promised in fog

Traipse suspiciously over unsustainable maps

Produce an unrequited plea for reciprocity

 

Unseen dampness oozes

From a moist catalog of depravities

Descends in unconsecrated droplets

Sinking hypocritical tributaries

From polluted consciousness

And desecration

 

And in these remaining days

These last numbered fading flashes

I search in vain for the answer

For that promised love now vanished

By the one who promised

Then betrayed and acquainted me

With disappointment and vacancy

Now recoils from the smiling parasite

Feeding slowly inside my heart

 

Missing Before The End

 

And a shower splashes despondent

In tiny splatters of release

Trickling with trifling memories

Bleeds dampness

Soaking from recollections

Inundates ripples of interference

Collapsing from the sky

 

Not anniversary niche and commemoration

But strands of disheveled hair

Paperbacks on a bookshelf and disorder

Demonstrated and witnessed

In partial evidence of commitment

Moments exemplifying failed tenderness

All piled unmercifully upon one another

And the infinite list grows defiant

Joining a solitary untied shoe

Always on the left

Departs unsuitably

Wistful missing remembrance

Mournful indiscernible memories of the heart

The curled lip suspicious grin disappointed gasp

Remembered sound enduring gentleness

Between familiar intimates

 

We gaze upon the water

As it swirls down the drain

The smallest insignificant trickle

Has become the most important tributary

In a diminishing universe of access

To the present world of deficiency

Remembered fractions have grown louder

And I am left surrounded by the gifts of petite memory

Celebrations have become discretionary

Conquered by floating recollections of whim

Decaying to a parade of sorrow

Through these lingering streets of years

 

GIULIO MAGRINI

 

GIULIO MAGRINI has performed and published his work for over fifty years, and is from Pittsburgh PA. His anthology The Color of Dirt is available on the internet or preferably from him personally at giulio27@verizon.net. He has been nominated for the Pushcart prize and Best of the Net. Giulio tells us “We have put our hands in the dirt and sanctified each other”.