26-04-2003

   

THROUGH THE NIGHT ...

WANDERING IN HAMMERSMITH GROVE ROAD

 

I searched that path millions of times but now I still feel like a naked dismayed

boy in the middle of the street, chased by criminals while in some side-street

house they're making love, I can imagine the smell of a warm smile while here

outside it's damn-dead cold, I'm scary and old, who knows if I make it home

and come back to my dreams, all the city's neon-lights are about to die,

leaving a-very-next-to-come raging machine, blood all the way around, a lot

of music inside, surrounded by dead-sounds inside, here I decide to stop

for a few minutes, my back against the wall, heavily gasping... I can see

a very young, sweetly naive couple of university students making love

at the bottom of this very narrow path, a heavy rain is falling on us but it's

no annoyance, I know it's too late, I missed the nth bus, it's deep night,

passed midnight and I've just realized I'll have to walk along these dirty

streets all night long, I feel like being a angel expelled by Heaven and

now finding a safe place to hide my sins and cover the long distance, it's

no tragedy if I'm obliged to make love with all night's unsafeties and

dangers, deformed faces I will run into, and chilling encounters maybe

I will talk to... Prostitutes and their wimps are looking me up and down,

asking me where I'm bound for, I keep walking straight ahead, no looking

back, while fire and murders are countless and bodies are scattered and

thrown against rubbish and garbage, all of a sudden a woman's air-splitting

scream announces big danger, hovering between life and death will be

the command, all the houses' lights are turned off, and now it's time

to turn myself on, escaping from this mad fire burning louder and louder...

Rain keeps falling, it gets colder and I need somewhere to hide my

nerves and fall into parallel existences... I throw myself down into

an old pub: heavy-drunkers, drifters and pirates-like blokes

are sinking in illimited inches of vodka and maltese whisky........

weird mixtures of colours highlight dirty stripteasing and

wild boozing... I found myself against my will discussing with

old sailor men once betrayed by their wifes... they lead a dead-end

street existence and they do not care... they have racy life-style

and do not take care of health or deep feelings............. One of

them was supposed to be a "has-been", once-glorious footballer

fallen in disgrace, once beloved and praised by the whole world,

now ferociously despised and forgotten by the big audience..........

He's used to weep on his empty bottle of Russian Vodka..........

for sure its only reason left to hang onto..... then..... DEATH........

A few minutes, and I get out of the pub, keeping roaming

along Hammersmith Road, monster-faced-encounters

who stare at my twisted expressions, they're puzzling and

wonder but keep going straight ahead... leaving my

anxiousness eating the sidewalks and cutting tens of

traffic lights... Doped punks and drugged drop-out are

the deformed lights of this gloomy, forbidden night.........

... deviant youngsters try to fight with boredom

and adult injustice, they're prisoners of dirty ideals

and distorted visions... and they love speaking with

knifes and arguing with rape and violence..............

Depravation and commiseration, it's nothing more

than a caleidoscope of harrowing stories of solitude

and pompous statements of death, understanding, compassion

they're waiting for, looney characters play their

incomprehensible, inconceivable part, on an empty,

desolated stage, in front of a non-existing crowd.........

singing non-melodies..... or arguing with walls...........

I'm getting closer to Hazlewood Park.... I walk

through the darkened trees, and give up thinking

or wave-dreaming.................and I fall into sweet

unconsciousness and polished dreams............................

before I'm forced to quit those sheer moments

of golden silence and mellow atmosphere.............

Out there the monsters still are greedy and

hungry............ they're coming again and seem

not to spare my dazzling, affecting innocence......

 

TELEMACO PEPE

 

Questo testo Ŕ depositato presso www.neteditor.it e quindi coperto da diritti d'autore. Esso non potrÓ essere riprodotto totalmente o parzialmente senza il consenso dell'autore stesso