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Tiziana Aliffi ranked 2nd place in the Poetry ... Without face

Tiziana Aliffi ranked 2nd place in the poetry section of the "ANT. INK AND SOUL IN MEM. OF A. Caldwell"

Tiziana Aliffi was born in Rome in 1953, painter and poet for over thirty-five. He teaches in a primary school in the province of Pordenone, where he lives. He has already published collections of poetry, created texts and illustrations of stories and nursery rhymes. "The poems of Tiziana reactions and interpretations varied and disparate. This means that his ability to write has reached levels of abstraction very intense, in which everyone can lose. And you get lost in his verse, pleasantly, to find every time themselves or others. Depends on how you read his poetry, the rhythm that you give, you're sounding echo in the mind, or simply what you want to find. Or just leave it would be nice stun. "(Giancarlo Fattori - Poet)

" Each verse of Tiziana Aliffi ago to enjoy the pleasures of being an amateur of life. I feel that you can go beyond the usual habits. Without fear of being wrong. In her poetry she knows how to give an answer to pressing problems and new situations. Look at the body and soul with curiosity and interest, without anxiety or fear. Moves to expand the light leaving I expressed no danger in diagrams or system routine. It is capable of letting go and the reader follows the path of acceptance of experiences and transforms them. Just as an amateur ever 'live' towards the achievement of pleasure. While the 'silent body' reserve surprises most fascinating ...

Poetry is true. "(Rita Pacilio - Poet)

Vacuum

Vibra

vacuum

absent mysteries

widens breathing

voiceless writhes

acoustic tracks

and scraps of Sun

gallop between thoughts

image disguised

my mind rejoices

invaded magic

metamorphosis

of a new creation

or wandering death

desire for peace

silence glass

with its murmur

floods flowers

a heart made of wax.

Mani shadow

Around

the world as color

grass

prison

plots stone

shadows networks without water

agglomeration happy

that wall solitary

absorbs shadowdancers

welcomes enduring figures

confused lines of immortal

hands of shadow

arise from cracks

give themselves between tangles and deaf vocals

s'ingigantiscono history

master of nothing

essence of a gesture

mysterious cling

wind sewn.

addition

Just a puff of wind

to mess up sheets of words

breath Hot

exhausted whisper

lip of rain

flows

between the fingers

starving time

removes thoughts

laconic laces of life

release the delirium of dreams

plot or canvas for eyes slender

warp entries

unreachable frequencies

over

a flower

born into a poor stone

cold ground.

(On pages 58, 59 and 60 by various authors, Ink & Soul Anthology 2010/2011 - Poetry, Theatre, Cinema in memory of Anthony Caldwell, 2011, 8 °, pp. 152 - Library Publishing Urso - Avola, Necklace Mneme No. 33, Euro 15.00 - EAN 978-88-96071-02-1)

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woman and I say it again

think about it, there are too many things in Italy who say this enough, so many that the only solution would be to get out of here.

But nevertheless I'm proud to be Italian and I would not change my nationality for anything in the world.

So I want to be positive: I am a woman and say it again.

Again the smile and hospitality, unique in my own land.

Yet the culture of food and good company.

still the pride of our traditions.

Even the sound of musical dialects of Italy.

Even the art of getting by with what you have, the typical Italian.

Even the Italians that the media does not feed on nectar.

Even the Italian women who know how to say enough.

still young Italians who have a thirst for knowledge and desire to do.

Even the sweat of those who struggle against a rotten system, and in return receive only insults.

again to the courage of Saviano, who fight for us even if we do not fight for him.

again to the delight of small gestures and simple words, of which we Italians are always capable.

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Without face

eyes cables

slams

bewitched love rustling

going on my wish

you peep from the glass

eclipsed transparencies

ridiculous hiding

curious about my life

without mentioning

reached out

drunken gesture of caress

greedy selfishness.

from "Poppies in the aquarium"

I Want To Stretch My Labia

The door closed

The door closed

a chain
but the thoughts do not pass over van
cake where you do not want
transmigrate over the meat and you are immersed in silence.

That door barred

has no name exists for fear of losing the breath of life
and closes before it can happen that never would
my pain is closed in there

adorned with chains and breathless breaths

physiological fatigue and bitterness of soul.

My heart does not have keys
every desire is a gift
breaks through barricades and gates
insurmountable obstacles to our fold
tangled glances and caresses

pain
reigns on the throne of a queen
hands quarries
smile impossible
useless creature
exit from the dark void around


reigns of impossible joy
seized of trees and sun
but his drool grooves sprinkled with frost

what annoys the time never come back .


(image of T. Aliffi 2010)

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I wake

a blanket of yellow flowers

bosses dark eyes night

between his lips white

words and cotton plugs

is the time to dance on my bones

sacrilege memories

long legs

red flags

ceiling and stuffed shadow

a glimpse in the hands

and rain wild

back to watering

walls and stale items of life imprisonment.

from "Poppies in the aquarium" unpublished 2011

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I need to

I need time

dreams that inhabit the rocks

of the long road that sdraino trees

I need poetry

of strokes among the rising thrill

and you feel a kite and runs away

poetry burning words

leave emotions

leave ink stains

between the fingers of a timeless melody.

A path opens before

naked green hedge of regret

I need to immerse myself in his clothing

veils of forgetfulness and hair-shirt of wisdom

appointment in the dark

humble companion

and every time I gaze looks out the window

a slow breath free me from this cage.

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The music of Simple Mindes

the door

he

naked

lips flowers in her hands saturated me

out the wind

magician of veils and leaves

run hands

nymphs of eclectic elegant spaces of shade.

Sing overflowing river algae

rain of monsters

drowned in the depths

magic wins

behind my hips and you grab the last fig sugar

juicy delicious bottle

Hands

yet I'll take you between mist veils fluttering

discover

to revive naked bodies

lips to touch the tiger

hear breaths chasing notes

rides foaming

supine bodies

lascivious movements hands belt

Hold still

and between the legs lead me to the labyrinth of voices

where everything is eco

dilated run whence

immersed up to the last sip.

Take the arms

'll stay tied

breath in your breath

timeless kiss infinite

feet between fleshy herbs

voluptuous appendices of this hellish cage

dark cave burning desire

still buried under endless

digression of ecstasy

fragile complaint

your fingers

seek

tread

fleshy hood

prison enormous pleasure.

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The air does not come back

repeats every time the wind blows

while dissolving your eyes

among the ruins of my life

throat still drink your kisses

savors new sips of rain

and the cold freezes the saliva in the tunnel shaft

the socks impatient to mute questions

parade

break down in a thousand folds of silk

down to the knees

and the web of your hand Galaverna

eat my breath of darkness

caresses of dry hands

ass time

crossed to tear my tear meat

to let me once again on the edge

of the street filled with intruders of

and nights I dream intrepid

sitting between roots that reach the legs.

Orme of crows have time for me

embellished moon

smile

white willow

fountains of endless concert.

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was sitting ... I was waiting

was sitting on the corner of the table surrounded by bulging eyes thoughts that cut. Slowly he moved his nostrils to enjoy the rays entering the window, but only briefly. It was time to change, so he got up stretching his body and playing with the language. He did this every time I approached him and stroked the first to see it slip away.

between his fingers a piece of heaven tidied up by large eyes still trying to amaze me.

I loved my cat.

I loved him like a part of me.

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stun Eastern Languages \u200b\u200bbird flower petals
skinny arms akimbo
Twilight's punctuated by breath

breath

quick look back to the dark


hands caress my body between the sheets
abandoned fishing

expected performance of the body

orgasms nipples
pink Venus and thirsty

the window so

to show all of me to look

eyes to look to serve others mirrors lips

buttocks dream

you blink your breasts swollen with desire
juices as immature flowers of the field . The snow-white neck


outing of spring
whisper of leather
sings of my dream while cicadas
hungry
chasing crickets
crazed mime
and hands out of the dark
stop
tease
cheer
turgid flowers of the firmament .

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Ropes

Without love

transfixed by vacuum

would be a stone

cold hand of land

without embroidery and wind prayer

loveless

would wave drifting

that escapes the storm

heavy rope

which twists the meat

chill of pleasure

between the breasts

turgid chord

knots and embroidery

tune movements

rate of orgasm

foot glass

touch nipples hot

fierce desire

to hear from you lick

wait among the branches

ties of raw hemp plant

sting on her breasts

clinging to enjoy my

a scream

not to freeze the pleasure

continues to make you feel

between folds of flesh

ropes and mad with rage

continues to look

between hands crossed

shoulders bent

breasts burning

call

heave

await your lips

suck

lick

bite

to die like this.

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gurgles

water canyons

trodden ground karst

the soul is lost

sinks in the network.

Transparent season

endless breath

veins

a hymn.