September 29, 2020 2:27 am
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FRIDA AND HIS CAT MICIO: Androids iron and remotest galaxies, including sedatives and psychotropic drugs

MICIO CAT – autumn 2013 Frida “Pussy cat meow, – Sedatives! – Nice big cat cuddly, – Psychotropic Drugs! – Androids clothes iron and scrap levied on foreign lands on another galaxy remote in Time. – You’re safe here, fear not, you are a beautiful angel – – Must fall! Come here! Down here! Fall! You’re going to fall.”

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THE HEART OF FRIDA: Shadows walking in the darkness, voices and words made of paper, listening to the solitude

NIGHT SHADOWS – autumn 2013, by Frida   “Night Shadows follow me, voices from beyond the grave written on cards posted on my young heart … Jolt of fear takes me from death, alone can do it, does not need gifts offered in sacrifice, does not need me … – Son alone and can not hear you – – Son …

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ON THE HAMMOCK, WITH FRIDA: Echoes of summer, a pen and a hand

HAMMOCK – Summer 2014, by Frida “So this hammock by touch pen driven, elected from God, for He Himself not heal me.   Unusual beloved light incognizance   hands light your touch   echoes do not appear.”

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THROUGH THE EYES OF WANG WEI: Observe legs that run and eyes looking

A Chinese poet of the Tang Dynasty, a devotee of Zen Buddhism, not fond of court life, deeply in love with the solitude and secluded places, but also a musician and statesman. In his four hundred poems, Wang Wei is remembered for his extraordinary talent in painting nature not only with colors and brushes, but also with words. One of …

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A WALK WITH XIAO KAIYU: Let call from the void and silence

Xiao Kaiyu, a journalist in Shanghai, but also a poet attentive to the things that describes social realities or events related personal emotions. Oddly enough, this man was born in China in 1962 tells us about his nation today in a special way, namely classical and Taoist. He is not a nozionista, in fact, he loves the blank tire and …

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A DAY WITH JAN ENGELMAN: The face that sinks in flowers, singing in the wind in the spring, under the blue sky

Dying in the early spring of 1972, leaving behind her the birth of a child of 24 years, his love for Joanna – a woman he never married, died six years earlier – and the memory of a brief and unhappy marriage two other daughters. Jan Engelman, Dutch poet and essayist, born in Utrecht in 1900, has given us love …

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JAN JACOB SLAUERHOFF: nymphs, fauns the regret of one and the children playing on the lawn, surrounded by leaves dying

Jan Jacob Slauerhoff, a neo-romantic poet born in Leeuwarden in the Netherlands a day in late summer of 1898, he studied medicine in Amsterdam, but his thirst for adventure and her nonconformist nature led him to a particular choice, to know the world, sailing on ships bound for South America and China, as a medical doctor on board. What we …

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REMEMBERING THE NETHERLANDS: Paradise regained, with Hendrik Marsman

Imagine being 40 years old, imagine that your country has been invaded at the beginning of World War II, imagine being on board a ship that takes you over the English Channel, in England, where you can continue to write your poems intense and full of vitality. This was the last trip of Hendrik Marsman, a Dutch poet, who drowned …

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PAUL VAN OSTAIJEN, MR 1830: Two hands and ten fingers away into the void, waving things, to the sea

His nickname is “Mr. 1830”, but the Belgian writer born in one day in February of 1896 called Paul, Paul van Ostaijen. That Flemish poet, also living in Berlin, has filled pages of surrealism and modernism, continuing to walk in the streets of Antwerp dress eccentrically, before dying of tuberculosis as a young man in the year 1928.   POLONAISE …

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WALKING IN THE STREETS OF HOCHELAGA: Montreal, a multiethnic city capable of being brilliantly creative, even with a temperature of twenty degrees below zero

Hello. Today I write to you from a place called Hochelaga, a village on the island of San Lorenzo, now no longer inhabited by Iroquois Indians. In 1535, Jacques Cartier, a French explorer, was observed over a hill that Canadian fortified place, and decided to use a new name, “Mons Realis”, ie Mount Royal. Obviously, what I have been able …

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