Tempo, poem by Massimo Soranzio (MY PRIZED POSSESSION Poetry and Prose Series)

Two years today since this poem was published on Silver Birch Press’s blog. Time’s been running, “prestissimo”!

Silver Birch Press

Tempo
by Massimo Soranzio

Time was always running fast
In my teens, my metronome
Mostly set on presto, or
Prestissimo, or sometimes
Allegro, if I ever
Felt I needed to relax.

The rhythm of my first youth
Was rather sostenuto,
Yet switching to comodo
Or simply moderato,
When action had to leave room
For dialogue and reason.

When my second youth started,
It was on maestoso,
Alla marcia, con brio,
Till one day, rallentando,
My movement went from largo
To adagio—and I stopped

To wonder at this precious
Object, my old metronome:
Old German technology
Bearing old Italian words
Describing the highs and lows
Of a lifetime’s melody.

AUTHOR’S PHOTO CAPTION: My old metronome, at home.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I’ve had my old metronome since my early teens; I have always loved and treasured it. Though it still does…

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Tarocco in Peach Velvet’s Hallozine

My poem "Tarocco", originally posted here during National Poetry Month, has found its place in Peach Velvet Mag's special Hallozine issue, The Poet's Tarot. Thank you, Peach Velvet! Find my original blog post with the picture of the tarot the poem refers to here. And read my poem in the zine, as well as the …

Dream Valley

Thanks to Visual Verse for having me with them once more - this time responding in verse to a beautiful picture by Mark Basarah. Read my poem here.

The Sound of Doubt

I first jotted this down several years ago. While reading John Wyndham's sci-fi novel Chocky, I found the first line in this sonnet, a simple question in the novel, which I recognised as an involuntary iambic pentameter. I started repeating it aloud, and who knows why, I almost immediately added the second line, which is …

As long as we have music

As long as there is music, I know there will be life, so let me play on and fill this toxic world with light notes, the language of harmony and peace, the beauty we all wish we hadn't lost. Allow then, please, the sudden caprice of one who still dreams and fondly dotes on memories …

Brown Gold, poem by Massimo Soranzio (MY SWEET WORD Series)

3 years today since this poem appeared on Silver Birch Press’s blog.

Silver Birch Press

Brown Gold
by Massimo Soranzio

Do you remember when our old grocer
took out the jar from under the counter
and opened it with great care, like fearing
the brown cream might escape?

Do you remember the way he slathered
the smooth, glossy dark substance on a sheet
of the same paper he used to wrap cheese
in, or red Parma ham?

Do you remember all the hazelnuts
we stealthily picked in our neighbour’s field,
to mix with melted chocolate at home,
like little alchemists?

Do you remember how our teacher used
to point to the door each time we returned
after the break, faces smeared brown,
still licking our fingers?

Do you remember how, when we found out
we were a young man and a young woman,
our first kisses tasted of the sweet cream
we shared behind your house?

Do you remember how on our first night
we…

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The Nail File

The Nail File Customers screamed in terror as a man “ran amok” armed with a metal nail file at an upmarket London hair salon, a boutique which counts amongst its clients a TV chef and an EastEnders actor. The stylist from Lithuania, called Ted, spotted a 21-year-old who kept walking in and out, behaving oddly. …