Monday 11 November 2019

5 Poems by Mendes Biondo

Slow Sunny Death

have mercy on me

this sunday the sun is hot

the wind is cool

birds are singing in love

and all is fine

have mercy on me

if I want to sleep

if I don’t want to get worried

if I decided to die slowly

in this sun-

day full of life

have mercy on me

because I have a strange way

to worship my gods

Closing The Curtain

at the end of the day

when all city lights

are off

when snoring of people

is the only blues

you can hear

and when the passing

of a car is similar

to a placid wave

ending its path on the sand


I can hear the noise

of all the things

never happened during the day

the pressure of tomorrow

the ecstasy of projects

that have not find an

obstacle yet

plato is sitting near to me

and his hyperuranic world

seems so real

I can catch an idea

and hide it under

my pillow

at the end of the day

with a job

with a woman

with a humanity

to find

the coming of the sandman

is your best blessing and


Hammond Organ Solo In An Empty Church

oh god

let her know

I was in love with her mouth

that time we danced

naked near the lake

one night like spirits

this is the

anima mundi

and I know I will

drink her again

‘cause she’s a fresh font

she baptized me

my god

and there were no blasphemies

I felt the trees

and the mountains

and the wind

they were calling

our names that night

I collapsed in her

worshipped her

I sang the sermons

as David did

but the people dancing with us

had naked ankles and

black curly hair

oh god if you can

hear me staying up there

‘cause here is a great mass

of naked bodies and lust

it’s a good place where to be

after all

and orgasms are our prayers

oh god

there is a place for you

and all your folks here

in the pub

a last dinner to say


and leave here your son

he do not want to die


for a rolling calendar

Last Night I Had A Dream On The Seaside


you’re a sacred fire

you’re like a guitar solo

I feel the vibes of the skin

dancing like the waves

powerful as the tide running

on oceanic beaches


you're a purple sun

falling in the sea


night is high now

and your body is moonshine

in this darkness made of sand

sweat and moans

A Room Made of Purple Petals

we chased each other that afternoon

little runs of love

then you said yes to me

with your bare hands

spring was all around

the grass was shining

the little lake was nipped by water drops

a blooming wisteria sheltered us

it was raining

on our hungry bodies

but we were kissing

and we just don’t care


Mendes Biondo is an Italian journalist and author. His works appeared on Visual Verse, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Literary Yard, Angela Topping Hygge Feature,  Indigent A La Carte, The BeZine, Scrittura Magazine, The Song Is, Poetry Pasta and other magazines. He is one of the editors of The Ramingo's Porch along with Marc Pietrzykowski and Catfish McDaris. His first book of poems "Spaghetti & Meatballs - Poems for Hot Organs" is published by Pski's Porch Publishing.

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