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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535652" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Pisciatoio de Nero in Zero world</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">[reveries from many years viewings of Fellini's 'Amacord' -<br>'Pisciatoio de Nero' means 'black pissoir' in Italian]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hear me a moment...<br>Perhaps it is better<br>if the jubilee of small birds<br>dies down, swallowed in the sky...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The senses are graced with an odor<br>filled with the earth.' - Eugenio Montale, 'The Lemon Trees'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>the blowing spring blossoms <br> the falling snow<br>the sex-crazed madwoman <br>has her place and is made place for </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in the seaside town - Gradicia <br>sacred prostitute<br>important to matters of State <br> <br>of stuttering male<br>desire of all ages </div><div style="margin:10px 0">at film end her <br>marriage <br>a new beginning for all </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>motorcyclist<br>as Time too<br>zooms in/out <br>punctuates<br>scenes throughout</div><div style="margin:10px 0">spring blossoms again <br> return the final scene</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the ubiquitous blind <br>accordion player<br>Time's other guise </div><div style="margin:10px 0">pestered by brats<br>perpetually pull his tattered hat </div><div style="margin:10px 0">plays throughout <br>eternal return</div><div style="margin:10px 0">*</div><div style="margin:10px 0">film family<br> the schizophrenic brother/<br>uncle of papa/nephew <br> climbs a tree on an <br>out-of-the-asylum family picnic </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the day is late <br>family needs to leave <br> countryside for city</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Tio, uncle, refuses to <br>descend from the tree top<br>end of the stony world</div><div style="margin:10px 0">loudly shouts <br> hours over quiet <br>farmland and fields, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I WANT A WOMAN! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I WANT A WOMANNNNNN! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> deeper sanity reveals <br>in his call for the restoring<br>Woman</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the sanity of Desire<br> his coniunctio <br>(consummation call) <br> in the arms of a tree</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> rocks tossed <br> plucked from <br> coat pockets<br>rags <br> keep saner <br>interlopers at bay below </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the love-mad one <br>in piss pants <br>sways embraced of <br>the Woman Tree <br>reunites vistas <br> seen above <br>tearing opposites<br>of the seen world <br>mean in over <br>extended glory</div><div style="margin:10px 0">coagulates <br>the promised<br>black boots<br>of State</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unpersuaded he </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in primeval arms<br> innocent <br>returns to life </div><div style="margin:10px 0">wants a wife <br>or lover </div><div style="margin:10px 0">lightens his load <br>throws stones from <br> threadbare </div><div style="margin:10px 0">pockets full o full<br> upon the glass house <br>the loo-loo world </div><div style="margin:10px 0">spread out beneath him<br> a 'pisciatoio de nero'<br>in Zero world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>*</div><div style="margin:10px 0">actively dreaming I am<br>of a cabin, some woods <br>(or Tio's Tree) or Mexico <br>mountain crotch </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> draw water from <br>artesian well deep<br>bathe with night stars </div><div style="margin:10px 0">swelling in night-mirage </div><div style="margin:10px 0">heat vectors from day<br>heated earth making </div><div style="margin:10px 0">giddier stars dance...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">my vocation then - </div><div style="margin:10px 0">porch sit<br> write<br> pick up <br>paints again<br>seek the missing</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ear</div><div style="margin:10px 0">hike/walk/wobble<br>a patch of canvas<br>dirt squabble <br>the 3-legged <br>dog his name <br>is 'Trinidad' <br>(his 3 legs) <br>whose meanness <br>knows an evil man <br>when he sees one </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>cogitate to more write<br> cook simple fare<br> raise some corn <br>a little hay the locals<br> that itch of skin for<br>skin embrace Tio's <br>primal call to sin over <br>into the blurred sanity <br>of digitally hog-tied <br>corralled world too <br>easily pixilating O dust<br>to dust</div><div style="margin:10px 0">after all is said/done</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Go back in time then<br> 'io recordo amacord ' <br> is always circular <br>as space is not linear <br>but spherical live off <br> grid as chimera<br>an old man tin-can spit-<br>cup in hand can without <br>doing harm to self chewing<br>a niggardly weed tobacco <br>growing wild in Mexico<br> ditch and dale</div><div style="margin:10px 0">will need espresso <br>wine nearby (or larders <br>laid coolly in the ground <br>for chill and preserve) , </div><div style="margin:10px 0">space large enough for <br>books and to entertain <br>2-leggeds - even <br>Trinidad come to pant <br>happily at my heels - <br>who will come if they <br>come for counsel <br>talk story <br>dirty jokes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">side by side silent<br> readings an occasional <br>'hear this' something <br>then read aloud which <br>becomes bread<br> heads nod agreement <br>smiles and meals beneath <br>the witnessed reel of <br>glancing stars gathering <br>stones at dusk filling <br>their pockets own<br>while climbing <br>World Tree at apogee<br> they downward turn <br> fling themselves low <br>toward the dawn stumbling <br>Sun alone fire seeking<br>fire</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I WANT A WOMAN! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I WANT A WOMAN! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in such male heat <br> Light cries up/<br>reveals the morning <br>dove the crow their <br>sonorous response<br>to the Sun's Call, <br>different as they are<br> unconcealed...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>what is revealed: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the mouse in the hole who loves the hole, <br>how the serpent's tail shimmers as one has<br>tossed it with a very long stick out the door<br>shouting - the door shouts too - 'be gone! <br>no more! ' one has learned to shake the<br>sheets, the pants, the socks, the topsy <br>turvy heel-worn shoes before the getting<br>into because scorpions and spiders dwell <br>therein and even a snake loves a warm bed, <br>my pillow for its head, found a skin shed <br>on a flower-patterned pillow case where <br>fleecy lambs forever pink silently low<br>as the cloth grows thin from head wear <br>dream wear because I was once a sleeping man</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(this happened<br>to me <br> <br>lived 3 great years <br>a mountain<br>one hundred year old house no electric<br> a well for water<br>spring house chill in<br>cold mountain spring <br>milk butter meat <br> thick mesh and laden<br>plywood over basin <br> keep critters out</div><div style="margin:10px 0">bathing<br> on the porch at night <br>(so the shy mountains could<br>not see) from rain water <br>gathered rhythmically <br>from the tin roof tonal <br>toks<br> glocks in pots all kinds) ...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">*</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but for now <br>out the theater<br>into city street<br>I've been drawn <br>out and now </div><div style="margin:10px 0">long overdrawn </div><div style="margin:10px 0">am drawn the<br>more in<br>drawn in<br> not sketched out<br>but stretched as such <br>state old men are or <br>soon to be, arrive<br> their ire in retire <br>crow songs<br>strong for not <br>too much longer<br> <br>but damn it all</div><div style="margin:10px 0">hear such <br>being here hurts, <br>stone stars </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm cold! I'm cold! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shout up to them<br>Sun star tumbling old <br>bodies down to dirt song <br>of the earth</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Das Lied von der Erde' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will listen then<br>as I do now, Mahler's, <br>pour out red wine<br>hiss at the intrusive <br>mouse herald of The End<br>in alto sung </div><div style="margin:10px 0">over-strung/wrought-out<br>I will listen will<br>recover such enough <br>air around to go on <br>sing my song<br> a tio-tangle in <br>treelimbs the kind <br>Van Gogh still somewhere <br>paints</div><div style="margin:10px 0">knees, sore, <br>now and always <br>a call <br>to prayer<br>to woo </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in old boots <br>worn leather <br>weak knees <br>make me to <br>existence/being <br>adore<br> <br>to which I <br>have only just </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in a dream</div><div style="margin:10px 0">renewed my wedding vows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Warren+Falcon">Warren Falcon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535652" data-title="Pisciatoio de Nero in Zero world de Warren Falcon" data-description="[reveries from many years viewings of Fellini's 'Amacord' -
'Pisciatoio de Nero' means 'black pissoir' in Italian]

'Hear me a moment...
Perhaps it is better
if the jubilee of small birds
dies down, swallowed in the sky...

The senses are graced w..."></div>
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