Modern Love Lxxxi (Fascist Geometry) Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

a black autumn night
starving for love;
dark in flames
Moments of delight slip away;
Unseen, untouched yet imagined
Calm and safe at last
Wandering imaginary lover
Inflamed till the last
Soul of light, music, flowers
A haze of bluish gold lights
An assiduous emotion waiting
weighed down by infinite
drinking from a dark cup;
saddened eyes, lemon colored skin;
a leaf, fallen in a stream borne off.
No matter! magician wand moves
carves out a design; fascist geometry,
from disease, from nothing,
begin to construct, using words.
No one is granted such love as we:
the love that has no hope of being loved.
Translucent in the dusk of twilight
Polishing lenses of time, again
Dying cold afternoon full of fears
all afternoons are the same
The clocks hands and hyacinth air
That whitens at twilight edges
Do not quite exist for this silent
Conjurer of a clear labyrinth,
Undisturbed by poverty-that reflection
Of dreams in the dreams of another
Mirror-or by so many lovers gasps,
Free of metaphor and myth, grinding
A stubborn crystal: the infinite
map of one who is lost in stars.
The moon endures its mortal eclipse
Returns wearing two red roses
As augurs mock their sad presages;
Of snow that shall fall from the north
Of frost that shall bundle the fields
Of hail that shall impregnate the earth
The coldest seed of all;
and we
who think of mounting happiness,
would feel the emotion
which nearly startles
when happiness falls.
saying: I run; to the still earth;
I am; to the swift current
as somewhere blossoms
the flower of parting;
whose pollen strews everywhere
in the roundness of cheerful fruits;
in the invisible winds innerness;
in the heightened sky,
scattered by birds deep
in our home turning flight
we swallow roundness
we breathe our lovers soul
in the most becoming air;
we eat, breathe, love
parting