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    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    The delicate hour of the birds among the branches – Poems by Melih Cevdet Anday (trans. Neil P. Doherty)

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A flock of cardinals melted in the scarlet sky: Poems by Daryna Gladun

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    The wolf hour and other poems by Ella Yevtushenko

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Testing the worth of poetic bombshells – Four poems by Abdul Karim Al-Ahmad

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

  • Fiction
    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

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    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

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    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    The Naked Shell of Aloneness – Kazi Rafi

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    The Shadow of a Shadow – Nandini Sahu

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Football is Life – Mojaffor Hossein

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

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    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

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    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of romantic love and its perils: The lyrics of the enigmatic Barbara Strozzi – Luciana Messina

  • Interviews & reviews
    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Paradoxes of misfits and wanderers: Modhura Bandyopadhyay reviews Stalks of Lotus

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    A preview of Greek poet Tsabika Hatzinikola’s second collection “Without Presence, Dreams Do Not Emerge”, by Georg Schaaf

    Ascension: A conversation with Matthew Smith

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    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Of Concentric Storytelling, Footballs and the Shifting World

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    Camilla Boemio interviews Malaysian artist Kim Ng

    Poetic bridges and conversations: Icelandic, Kiswahili and English through three poems by Hlín Leifsdóttir

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Human Bestiary Series – Five Poems by Pina Piccolo

    Bear encounters in Italy:  Jj4, anthropomorphized nature and the dialectics of generations – Post by Maurizio Vitale (a.k.a. Jack Daniel)

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    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Chapter four from “La cena- Avanzi dell’ex Jugoslavia”, by Božidar Stanišić

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A song of peace and other poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    I am the storm rattling iron door handles (Part I)- Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Spirited away by the northern winds (Part I) – Poems by Marcello Tagliente

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Like a geological specimen in a darkened room: Two poems by Neil Davidson

  • News
    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

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    IL BIANCO E IL NERO – LE PAROLE PER DIRLO, Conference Milan Sept. 7

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  • Home
  • Poetry
    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    The delicate hour of the birds among the branches – Poems by Melih Cevdet Anday (trans. Neil P. Doherty)

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Afro Women Poetry- SUDAN: Reem Yasir, Rajaa Bushara, Fatma Latif

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    A flock of cardinals melted in the scarlet sky: Poems by Daryna Gladun

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    The wolf hour and other poems by Ella Yevtushenko

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Testing the worth of poetic bombshells – Four poems by Abdul Karim Al-Ahmad

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

  • Fiction
    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Chapter ten, from”Come What May” by Ahmed Masoud

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    Remembering Carla Macoggi: Excerpts from “Kkeywa- Storia di una bambina meticcia” and “Nemesi della rossa”

    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

    The Naked Shell of Aloneness – Kazi Rafi

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    The Shadow of a Shadow – Nandini Sahu

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Football is Life – Mojaffor Hossein

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Origin – 1. The House, at night, by Predrag Finci

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    HOT MANGO CHUTNEY SAUCE – Farah Ahamed (from Period Matters)

    Take Note of the Sun Shining Within Twilight – Four Poems by Natalia Beltchenko

    BOW / BHUK – Parimal Bhattacharya

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    A tribute to Carla Macoggi – An invitation to reading her novels, by Jessy Simonini

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    In memoriam – Swimming in the Tigris, Greenford: The Poetical Journey of Fawzi Karim, by Marius Kociejowski

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    • Intersections
    • Interviews and reviews
    • Non fiction
    • Poetry
    Camilla Boemio interviews Malaysian artist Kim Ng

    Poetic bridges and conversations: Icelandic, Kiswahili and English through three poems by Hlín Leifsdóttir

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

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    A song of peace and other poems by Julio Monteiro Martins

    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    I am the storm rattling iron door handles (Part I)- Poems by Michael D. Amitin

    Datura – Paulami Sengupta

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    Overturning planes in the labyrinth – Four poems by Rita Degli Esposti

    Spirited away by the northern winds (Part I) – Poems by Marcello Tagliente

    Pioneer’s Portrait: How Voltaire Contributed to Comparative Literature, by Razu Alauddin    

    Like a geological specimen in a darkened room: Two poems by Neil Davidson

  • News
    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

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    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

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BUTTERFLIES OF THE NIGHT – 4 poems by Bartolomeo Bellanova

December 2, 2017
in Out of bounds, Poetry, The dreaming machine n 1
BUTTERFLIES OF THE NIGHT – 4 poems by Bartolomeo Bellanova
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by Bartolomeo Bellanova, translated from Italian by Pina Piccolo, from his collection “Gocce insorgenti”, Terra d’lUlivi,  2017

 

Butterflies of The Night 

 

It rains on the contaminated butterflies of the night,
it rains on their hoods as they speed about
under the pouring drops.

Their eyes staring,
at every turn of the nibbled sidewalk,
planned and disawowed destinations
cast by dice, rivulets of liquid thoughts.

It rains on breasts joined to pray to the nursing baby
groggy at the lullaby played by the rain
Or the onomatopoeic lover before the heat
that flares up and then soaks,
traces of corporeal storms.

It rains on the glass shards dancing
the dance of copper gutters full of holes.

It rains on weeds and soda cans swept outside the bar
out there in the shadows, last customary act
of a day too slow in dying.

It rains on the gray shop shutters full of graffiti,
escape routes ruled out from  the horizon of possibilities.

Even the last stammer of steps has disappeared
leaving only  grumbling puddles
as they wait for dawn.

 

Le farfalle della notte

Piove sulle farfalle ammorbate della notte,
incappucciate camminano veloci
sotto le gocce battenti.

Gli occhi fissi, destinazioni decise e rinnegate
a ogni svolta di marciapiede rosicchiato,
tirate ai dadi, rivoli di pensieri liquidi.

Piove sui seni giunti a pregare il poppante
assonnato dalla nenia della pioggia
o l’amante onomatopeico prima del calore
che avvampa e poi bagna,
tracce di corporali bufere.

Piove sui cocci di bottiglia che danzano
al ballo di una gronda di rame bucata.

Piove su cartacce e lattine spazzate fuori dal bar
nella penombra, ultimo atto usato
di un giorno troppo lento a morire.

Piove sulle saracinesche imbrattate e grigie,
via di fuga escluse dall’orizzonte del possibile.

Anche l’ultimo balbettio di passi è svanito
E solo le pozzanghere restano a mormorare
aspettando l’alba.

 

 

Summer – Night indoors

 

Summer –      Night, indoors Italy
Honey dripping from the starry sky
from your eyes to mine
from my fingertips to yours
climbing on the fiery amber
of the both of us joined into a single bloc
and our skin turned inside out
joined into a single skin.

 

Summer –       Night, indoors Syria
Deadly gas dripping from the starry sky
on your gaze of dust and plaster,
angel child of Aleppo
your body dripping putrid milk
from your tender calves
your white shoulders
and your trembling hands
milling among hands and nails and warmth

 

Summer –       Night, indoors Italy
Unknown child we conceive you again
here in the garlands of our soft arms
entwined like a cradle.
we smother your exhausted eyes with smiles
we siphon off the poison from your skin
and heart.

 

Summer –       Daytime, outdoors Italy
Violated angel, at first
lights of dawn, wash away from our eyes
the murderous deafness of an apathetic day
before liquefying into our oblivion.

 

Slippery is the muggy air in the streets
it slips us all down in a whirlpool of inhumanity

 

9th September 2016

 

Estate – interno notte

Estate – interno notte Italia
Dalla volta celeste sanguina miele
dai tuoi ai miei occhi
dai tuoi ai miei polpastrelli
arrampicati sull’ambra infuocata
di noi uniti in un blocco solo
e la nostra pelle rovesciata
unita in una sola pelle.

Estate – interno notte Siria
Dalla volta celeste sanguina gas chimico
sul tuo sguardo di polvere e calce,
bambino angelo di Aleppo.
Il tuo corpo spurga latte putrido
dai polpacci teneri
dalle spalle bianche
e le tue mani tremano
a mulinare mani e unghie e tepore.

Estate – interno notte Italia
Bambino ignoto ti concepiamo di nuovo
qui tra le ghirlande delle nostre braccia molli
e intrecciate a culla.
Ti tamponiamo gli occhi sfatti coi sorrisi
Ti spilliamo via il veleno dalla pelle
e dal cuore.

Estate – esterno giorno Italia
Angelo profanato, al primo
bagliore d’alba, lava via dai nostri occhi
la sordità assassina del giorno indifferente
prima di liquefarti nel nostro oblio.

             È sdrucciolevole l’aria afosa delle strade,
ci scivola tutti giù nel gorgo dell’inumano.

 

Thirteen years old

You are new to this sidewalk
still fragrant with your skin burned by its
Mediterranean baptism,
red lipstick
steep like layers of sorrow.

I am an old man to this sidewalk,
yesterday she was blond like a foamy beer
your little girl friend child.
In this sad mugginess
Today you swing
from the vines of your braided hair
And you walk back and forth
like an alluring mermaid
Bait for butchers.
Gazelle eyed
I want to cure your black skin
with my white skin.

It’s not my fault if your mother
allowed you leave
your country,  with its droppings and dust.
It’s not my fault if you didn’t drown
under the sand in the desert.
It’s not my fault if you didn’t drown
in the red vortexof the bloodied sea.
It’s not my fault if ten bearded militia men
have smoothed the way to my pleasure
And then there is the question of customs and traditions
At the end, it ‘s all a question of culture
like spunky old Indro * with his child bride
used to claim
all things considered you’re a nigger
Don’t cry! Shut up!

I glance you, my dear daughter
from the door of your room left slightly ajar
and sail in the calm seas
of your sleeping breath.
You have milky skin
like rice paper
virgin cloth
white bread. You have pink nail polish
and shiny hair
in the feeble light of dawn.
In a bit I’ll walk you to school
The streets are full of monsters, predators and pigs

 

* Indro Montanelli, a famous Italian journalist, with Corriere della Sera and later editor-inn chief of his own newspaper Il foglio, in 1935 during Mussolini’s campaign to colonize Ethiopia bought a twelve year old Ethiopian girl as a concubine. He talked about it, decades later, in some interviews, most notably the one  with famed Italian journalist Enzo Biagi in 1965.

 

Tredici anni

Tu sei nuova di questo marciapiede
che ancora profuma la tua pelle arsa
del battesimo mediterraneo,
il rossetto rosso scosceso
a strati di dolore.

Io sono vecchio di questo marciapiede,
ieri era bionda da birra spumata
la tua amica bambina.
Oggi tu oscilli all’afa triste
le liane dei tuoi capelli intrecciati
e cammini avanti e indietro,
sirena da richiamo,
esca da macello.
Occhi di gazzella
voglio conciare la tua pelle nera
con la mia pelle bianca.

Non è colpa mia se tua madre
ti ha lasciato partire
dal tuo paese di sterco e polvere.
Non è colpa mia se non sei affogata
sotto le sabbie del deserto.
Non è colpa mia se non sei annegata
nel gorgo rosso sangue del mare.
Non è colpa mia se dieci miliziani barbuti
hanno spianato la strada al mio piacere
e poi è una questione di usi e costumi
alla fine è una questione culturale
come sosteneva l’arzillo Indro
con la sposa bambina
e alla fine tu sei nigger
don’t cry shut up!

Scosto la porta della tua cameretta,
figlia mia veleggio la bonaccia
di ogni tuo respiro addormentato.
Hai la pelle di latte
è carta di riso
è tela vergine
è pane bianco.
Hai lo smalto rosa
e i capelli lucenti
alla luce tenue dell’alba.
Tra poco ti accompagnerò a scuola
di mostri, orchi e maiali sono piene le strade.

 

 

Drop By Drop

Drops by drops we rise up against brick
together we chisel and together
we peel off scales, everywhere.
Drops by drops we polish porphyry
carve marble
penetrate the soil
between root and root
between finger and finger.
Never ending buzz of soul drops
that mold us, dig into our brain
in mad labyrinths of poison
or in petals of liberation.
When clouds go extinct, of marble
and fingers only Love shall survive;
the boasting of a rainbow.

 

Goccia a goccia

Gocce a gocce insorgiamo al mattone
scalpelliamo insieme e insieme
squamiamo in ogni dove.
Gocce a gocce levighiamo il porfido,
scaviamo il marmo,
penetriamo la terra
tra radice e radice,
tra dita e dita.
Brusio incessante di gocce d’anima
ci modella, ci scava il cervello
in un labirinto folle di veleno
o in un petalo di liberazione.
All’estinzione delle nubi, del marmo
e delle dita sopravvivrà solo Amore:
il vanto dell’arcobaleno.


 

 

 

Writer Bartolomeo Bellanova‘s work has always emphasized social issues, both in prose and  poetry. He has written two novels La fuga e il risveglio, Albatros Il filo, 2009, and Ogni lacrima è degna, 2012. He is the author of the award winning, unpublished poetry collection Sguardi scomposti e liberati, as well as A perdicuore, David and Matthaus Edizioni, 2014. His latest poetry collection, Gocce insorgenti, Terra d’Ulivi, 2017 has also been nominated for awards in a number of competitions. His poems are included in print anthologies and online journals. He is a founding member of La Macchina Sognante and currently one of its editors.

 

 

Featured image: Photo of painting by Barbara Gabriella Renzi Iule.

 

 

 

 

 

Tags: AfricaBartolomeo bellanovacapitalismcolonialismEuropefamiliesfatherly lovehypocrsyIndro MontanelliItalylovepatriarchyPoetryprostitutionresistancerising upsocial justiceSyriatrafficked womenwhite supremacyxenophobia
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  There stand the hills, drunk with the silence of your eyes.... You open your eyes to rhythm breathing in ...

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HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran
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HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

by Dreaming Machine
6 months ago
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HAIR IN THE WIND we  invite all poets from all countries to be part of the artistic-poetic performance HAIR IN...

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