l'inquietudine

changed the title after listening to a song by Nek, an italian singer.
inquietudine roughly translates so something like - restlessness/moment of silence- bah i know what it means but i dont know how to translate it.
Rich- che conosci la lingua meglio, be, perche e la tua lingua insomma!
----------------
this concept has been floating in my head for about a century to be exact.... i never ever got the composition right, until now... i hope.
So, since i love lyricism, i collaged newspaper words and stuck onto the 'walls' with a poem i wrote two years ago called;

Testimony of room 707 of St. Blordo's Asylum for the metally ill.

Giggle, tickle, trickle, blither
My pants are pineapple purple
Behold! I am atlas! Tremble!
For I ................me Atlas
May choose to take off this weight,
Oh, the sky is rolling
And what have you to say
Oh comic of death.............. stop laughing.
I itch,
Curse the blessed poppy upon the windowsill,
My shoebox, painted white..............shut.
You! You look at me with oggly eyes
Eyes that shriek and claw at you
In the night!
I have something to say,
Yes, I have something to say!
The sun shall turn towards the moon ..helloooo
and you will see that I was right!
and then you will have to close your eyes,
blind, you are blind! ................STOP LAUGHING!!
Scratch scratch scratch
I shall plant seeds in my toe
I shall watch white poppies grow
Curl under my toenails in hairy green
I am Charlie Sheen.
I rhyme, I rhyme!
A genius of words and line
The lights go out............... out!
Eyes are nothing more than stars in
a shoebox sky...............there is nothing
my face is red
the wall is red
we are all red
they watch red ............... stop laughing!
I can hear your secrets whisper
......... who?......... It’s over
.....Forget................ Larry King Live
............................ White shirt........mud
The white curtain- the wall
I itch, I scratch
I am number six on my fibbonacci scale
All hail!
My itchy face
In a proportion of 1.618........ scratch
White poppies crown me
I am chased by appollo like Daphne
I srcatch away the brambles
Red and white
My fingers are red
My fingers are red
My fingers are red.

-------------------------------

if you can understand some of the metaphores i've inserted, you get a big fat cand and a hug.... let us all reminisce the articulate 'dumphs' of mr. orford in English class back in Milan ne?
-----------------------------------------
pencil
acryic paint
newspaper
normal paper
ink pens.