LUCA BENASSI

LUCA BENASSI

1

Salmon are to be waylaid

at the bottleneck of the river mouth,

when they are scared, cramming the water;

you have to let the net down where

the surface ripples with fins,

gills fumbling the desire

that doubles the passage of new

generations. That is the moment

to shoot the net, to stretch tight

the noose to the throat, the sharp spear.

At the metro exit we are

oblivious salmon to the slaughter

 

2

We are like cans filled

of spices in the kitchen

with carefully selected tisanes

we are the nettle, the lime and the balm.

It takes the vegetable patience

that fills the labour of the balconies

to be fine glass loving

the dust, the indifferent scent

of the essences.

Brew your wombs

boil like fish or potatoes

and then strain the red juice

that furs up the bottom of the mug.

 

3

I always mess up

and I should be wearing a sign

lit like a beacon in my flesh

engraved in my hand, a cross

an indecipherable letter

from the alphabet of pain

it will say that it is time

for my mistakes:

you know that, I get lost

(or we both get lost

- we all get lost)

losing the path

to the peacefulness

that leads to the soft kiss

of the way back.

 

4

We see geckos sneaking out of crevices

their white, translucent skin glowing

as light traps wading through the darkness

fighting their way into the light

of our civilized world.

They climb out of dreams,

inch after inch, every night,

winners of another time, electric legends

with their gluey legs clawing

at the patio wall, one inch at a time.

We look at them hunting,

chasing moths along the pathless panel

with motionless glaring eyes, we look at them

craving, catching the difference

between living and dying

making love in front of the faces of insects,

longing for artificial moons.

The look at us, standing still,

starving of life in a summer patio

while chasing off love and despair

squandering a mystery of a wild mirror.

 

5

Rome is a box, a blue hive, with violet TVs glow,

carved in a row of red blocks, facing nights

squared by the buildings’ heights. Concrete

has now conquered the lands of the sky

with marbles and scarlet columns

pushing away naked Gods

the ancient spirits,

together with their believes and bravery.

Rome is red sunsets

golden days swept away from the top of the hills

with nothing left

but ruins that nurture a romance

hovering above,

unfathomable like a faint ray of light

gone in a nick of time.

Rome is a red carpet

a dwarf, a language of despair

and endless circular flight of seagulls

getting drunk at the Emperor’s dinner,

like swine stuffed with honey and apricots

chasing the slaves through the empty rooms of the palace.

Rome is an old woman home

with palaces like furniture made from solid wood

squares as tea-colored letters and postcards,

alleys as little artifacts, all sorts of memory traps,

an abundance that cannot be taken in completely.

«Drink the tea» says the old lady.

«I made it from the water of Tiber.»

If you take the city offering

you will drink the river from a beggar’s cup

spiraling down somewhere, your eyes filled with artificial suns

getting small like a little girl in front of the giant

marble sculptures, hanging above your head.

Rome is a meadow

growing flowers with vivid colors

a big blue butterfly. A love secret is written

on her wings. But it flies away before

you can read it.

LUCA BENASSI

LUCA BENASSI was born in 1976 in Rome, Italy. He is poet, writer, essayist, journalist and translator. He published the following collections of poems: “Nei Margini della Storia” [In the Sidelines of Histor] in 2000, “I Fasti del Grigio” [The Glories of the Grey] in 2005, “L’Onore della Polvere” [The Honor of Dust] in 2009, “Di me diranno” [I Will Be Told] in 2011 and “il guado della neve” [the snow ford]. In 2018, he published the Italian- Spanish anthology “La schiena del cielo – La espalda del cielo” [the sky’s back]. He also published the e-book “Duet of Lines Sen no Nijuso” (poems in Italian, English, Japanese, Junpa edition 2016, together with the poet Maki Starfield). In 2019 he published two anthologies of his poetry in Serbia (“Очи и звезда - Gli occhi e la stella” [The eyes and the star], alma publishing house) and Macedonia (“ЗБОРОТ НА НЕПРИЈАТЕЛОТ - la parola del nemico” [The enemy’s word], PNV Publishing). His poems have been translated into English, Spanish, Macedonian, Japanese, Romanian, Turkish, Mongolian, Chinese, Korean. As translator, he translated into Italian the work of the Dutch poet Germain Droogenbroodt “De Weg” [Il Cammino- The Path] published by I Quaderni della Valle in 2002. In the issue 1/2004 of La Clessidra he published a selection of translations from the work of the Palestinian poet Ibrahim Nasrallah. As journalist and critic, he published a book of essays on Italian contemporary poetry “Rivi Strozzati - Poeti Italiani negli anni Duemila” [Throttled Streams - Italian poets in the third millennium] in 2010. He edited the anthologies “Magnificat. Poesia 1969 – 2009” (2009) [Magnificat – Poetry 1969 – 2009] of Cristina Annino, “Percorsi nella poesia di Achille Serrao” (2013) [paths through the poetry of Achille Serrao] of Achille Serrao and “La casa dei Falconi, poesia 1974-2014” [hawks house, poetry 1974 – 2014] of the prominent Italian poet Dante Maffìa.