Dicono di lei…Continua a leggere: Dicono di lei…
“Alessia Biasiolo, scrittrice, poetessa, giornalista, astro affermato del firmamento letterario, ha pubblicato in questi giorni un nuovo, affascinante romanzo: “Metina. Un mistero in Franciacorta”, Edizioni Clanto. È un’opera delicata e profonda nel contempo. Un filo sottile, misterioso, avviluppa questa saga familiare di un ridente territorio della provincia di Brescia, a tutti ben noto e caro.…
My life gameContinua a leggere: My life game
I scream at the sunset my name to shudder at the rumble of my voice. I laugh at my life game walking on my ashes.
Water colourContinua a leggere: Water colour
Made up with clouds the sky throws open a water coloured sun on the horizon and an ode of joy pour from heart. The day again starts hoping to live on the blaze of coloured buds and I look at my eyeshadow palette to fix Nature on the time’s breaths.
Santa MonicaContinua a leggere: Santa Monica
Cold ocean of famous beaches flied over by analytical seagulls: I listen the wind hiss around my hair letting my soul go out of me to reach its horizon crowded of solitaries.
And then all is endedContinua a leggere: And then all is ended
And then all is ended. Silence lowers from the terraces, granny listens no more screams and is left alone, in the middle of the empty green, and of memories; glory escapes from eyes, enthusiasm is hauled down with the flags, crumpled papers burn in the fireplace, make champions and victories useless. You continue to be…
MadnessContinua a leggere: Madness
Little pearls threaded in the mad cobweb of the unexpressed things. Alone, she looks to the bars commiserating the absents.
A dollContinua a leggere: A doll
If I had to choose to be a toy I would be a doll. The one I never saw in the faces of mine.
I’ll come in the timeContinua a leggere: I’ll come in the time
I’ll come in the fog to darken your eyes injuring your pride crumpling up your passions; I’ll come to steal your heart and shut it in my mind cruel of love; I’ll come in the sun to tighten a smile opening a neverending view on your soul; I’ll come in the time
SkyscrapersContinua a leggere: Skyscrapers
I look over down and up a wake of floors. Windows perched at an angle on a dark river, tormented by envy for not being opened in the sky. A cappuccino strip foam ruffles a cloud unable to lick it.
Castles in the airContinua a leggere: Castles in the air
Will you warm up also my icy depth of my unconscious plans? Bronzing with hues the slow walk of my deep meditations? We are alone, you and me, sun, with nothing between us than my castles in the air.