La lingua dei morti

In un sol gesto - ecco riconosco.
Nel movimento arrivi.
E non sei morto. Che giammai partivi.
Stai in me or che rinasco.

In me - la lingua dei morti rivive.
Del corpo vivo s' imbeve.
Cresce nei grumi dura - rafferma.
Poi se ne scioglie - s'afferma.

Per lunghi giorni, mesi, anche anni
Nei corpi dormono - svegli.
Li pensi morti, ma davver t'inganni.
Quei grumi - neri - tu figli.

Comments

Fasting to reconnect your "Self" to your body

If there is a discrepancy between yourself and the body, between what you are and what you don't feel you are in your body, then fast, because there is excess to remove in the body. Through the stratifications of fat, the material that alienates you is deposited in the body. Removing decades of fat you remove the "Self" from its impediments to be reconnected with the body. Start thinking about fasting and wait for the right moment. Your body has its own indicators; it will signal when it is the right time to start fasting. Fasting is not a mere physical fact. It is changing the spirit of a time that has become stranger to us and that lives in us in order to alienate us to ourselves. Impossible to fast, without implying a change of the inner spirit. Those who fasted in the Old Testament did so to invoke great changes in life. Jesus himself fasted for forty nights and forty days and after fasting he was ready and strong enough to resist the devil and was ripe for his minist...

The temple of youth

The yearning for death is but a swift race seeking to curtail our tormented pace. There lies a sacredness in thy yearning toward the highest good wildly striving. Toss the gaze heavenward and grasp the truth! In death, we lie upon and cast the temple of youth.

Guardando l'Amore di una madre con le sue figlie

Siete fatte della stessa pasta Di stesso sangue e spirito apposta Create - e vivete il mondo unite. Solo voi vostra lingua capite. Io curioso vi guardo lontano. Altro universo vivo io e so invano di non essere voi e mi stupisco, ma la materia vostra oh capisco! E' fatta di altra tessitura, la mia invece è sfilacciatura, e in altro spazio e tempo ascoso sto relegato triste, invidioso.

Fabrizio Ulivieri

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