Marco Bo

under this gray sky
our life is completely contained
in an immense maze lost in the suburb of fate
entry and exit needle's eye
...

I don’t know how to close a conversation
I know how to start it

I don't know how to fix things
...

human beings?
bands of muscles
sculptures of bones
blood flowing
...

the way of love is not a highway without limits or barriers
the path of love is a crossroads of old country lanes
the path of love is a maze of narrow streets lost in the suburbs
that do not lead anywhere
...

not all the answers
not even a few
but the possibility to ask with passion all the possible questions
...

to be or not?
to whom it may not concern
each one of us is
as one prefers to
...

day after day we move one step at a time under this sky
since, human being, a small portion of the universe we know and we are
a scrap of dust
a flutter of wings
...

as in autumn a drop of dew falling on a leaf
and in it disappearing forever

so is my love for you
...

I miss a song that I've never sung
and yet

I miss the sound of an instrument that I do not know
...

our life is so small
root tree bramble and leaf

our life is so small in a blink of an eyes you can see it
...

May heaven
it is spring outside and yet
rain is falling
rain that seems a wail
...

do your muscles every day on the way back from your daily exile
make room for all the superfluous you can
reads your creed from five to six
vote the delegate who answers only to the questions you want
...

one step at a time
I spend every precious instant in my shoes
one smile at a time
I treasure life in my pockets
...

saying about love and walking on mud
singing and writing about the beauty and the beast

exposing the naked feelings
...

the second elapsed tastes of eternity
above the clouds the sky is clear
awakening
...