Poetry and Creative Writing for All

Domenico Barra

Domenico Barra, better known as Domì, is an Italian artist, poet and singer. He was born on the 9th September 1982 in the ancient Greek town of Neapolis know today as Napoli. It was a sunny morning the day his extraordinary life began, perhaps one of the few in his life because of course for most extraordinary beings... everyday is stormy. After roaming the streets of Napoli for many years, he eventually moved to England at the age of 19. Since then he has been conducing a bohemian life-style studying art, reading philosophy and psychology, writing poetry and joining the band Echoing Green, of which he is frontman and lyricist.
Domì Barra first approach to art happened at the very young age of four when his father, ex card-carrying member of the Italian Communist Party, hanged in the living room a copy of the famous painting of Pablo Picasso “ Guernica”. Since the early age of eight, D. Barra felt the need of expressing his feelings about alarming world’s issues through the media of drawing. He was very often inspired by the works of the photographer Oliviero Toscani and the political cartoons of the artist Giorgio Forattini which were printed on the pages of the weekly supplement “Il Venerdì” of the Italian newspaper “La Repubblica”. At the time of the first Gulf War, D. Barra depicted pictures of the battle he had seen on television for a school project part of his art class. D. Barra also had a brief experience as graffiti artist between the ages of fourteen to eighteen. During those years he had the chance of meeting many urban artists and shared with them ideas and techniques which resulted very important for D. Barra as his school studies were mainly focused on literature and economy.
The first (1924) and second (1929) Manifesto of Surrealism and the surrealist movement and revolution became the major inspirations for art practice, writing and life style since the age of twenty-two. Although a year of art studies and practices at the Leeds College of Art and Design and art classes at school, Domì Barra declare himself as a self taught artist.
About his work as poet, Dom Barra likes to define his role as writer with these words: "What are my poems? They are just articulate lines on almost white papers, sentiments of a moment. A day after day brain and soul massacre. They are lights coming from the watch-tower of my intellect pointed on my feelings, on my discoveries, on my understanding of life. The shadows of these lights are in your interpretations, in your meanings. Pain and joy, peace and tears, obsessions and love, freedom and fears. Since I was a little boy, crawling through my days of life. Pictures flash through my mind constantly.
Emotions go through my body like sand goes through an egg-timer. When they reach the end, they become words and then they become bricks. My writing is the cement that goes through the bricks and holds the wall of my memory so that I can bring to life my perceptions one more time. On almost white papers I write my observations of existence everyday because I do not know how many days I have left and because it will might not happen again."

The Course of life in the City Paranoia

Wonderful and tragic the course of life.
Caged in a circle, prisoner of time.
There is a way to escape it written on a knife.
Fear is the punishment; thinking is the crime.

Spying with one sick eye, often going too far,
Memories leave in the weightless mind a massive scar.
Blindness drags the idle soul towards the coast.
Appears above the broken horizon, a screaming ghost.

Hearing that dreadful voice lower its tone,
Whispering in the bleeding eyes pictures of darkness.
Pitch black and cold the solitary inner zone.
Whatever had a sense; now it's meaningless.

Holding a troubled world with a piece of string,
One hand nailed on the last standing wall,
That rotten place once had a king,
Now there is little left and that's all.

Hiding behind a thick cloud.
Sharp blades between each of the bones.
"Is there anyway to be proud?".
The king is in terrible pain and he stands alone.

Tasting lemons and honey every morning,
The sweet and sour flavour of the riding.
The ghost reappears to reveal another sign.
Quick, wake up! This is just another tale of the mind!

Trying to think quiet with rationality,
To avoid to kill the unstable truth with illogicality.
These miserable moments never last for long.
An ill belief is never that strong.

Run away from the sea paranoia!
Run away from the crossover routine!
Before the body turns into a destroyer.
Before existence starts to stink like a latrine.

Too late, the ghost shows his face once again.
The voice tells what will be and when.
The sentence is spoken, nothing to deny.
Plastic burns into the hopeless eyes.

Wonderful and tragic the course of life.
Caged in a circle, prisoner of time.
There is a way to escape it written on a knife.
Fear is the punishment; thinking is the crime..

Bite After Bite

She walks home every night from work;
Like a ghost through the rain, in the dark.
She can’t wait to feed the devil’s rage-
Another slice of her age.
The gate is open;
She enters the cage.
The drop burns on the silver page.
And there she goes,
All alone,
All alone,
All alone.

Sweet the taste of poison on her tongue.
She knows it won't be too long,
Fears and pains will leave her alone.
Lost red eyes search through the deep smoke.
Her soul reaches the other side of the lake,
In silence she waits for the bite of the snake.
And there she goes,
All alone,
All alone ,
All alone.

The music of her favourite songs.
An old chair will be her throne.
There she is,
A beggar, a child, and a queen.
Eyes closed,
There she goes,
Through the night,
Every night,
Bite after bite,
Bite after bite,
Bite after bite.

Pure Heaven

I see her, she is right in front of me.
She is light as snow. She is pure heaven.

I touch her with my tender eyes.
I smell her with my canine eyes.
I hear her with my devout eyes.
I taste her with my avid eyes.
I can’t resist her, I need to let me have her.

How could I not enjoy her seductive sweetness?
The noble and abandoned deed of a moment.
The exceptional emotion of a moment.
The exiting contraction of a moment.
The desired relief in a moment.

When she closes my eyes,
I have to touch her with my courteous mind,
I have to smell her with my aquiline mind,
I have to hear her with my zealous mind,
I have to taste her with my longing mind.

While I am blind and I am biting my lips,
She goes down my back,
She goes around my legs,
She goes down under my feet,
She tickles my sinner skin like a feather.

I don’t feel anymore pain in my strained body.
Now, she opens my delighted eyes.
Once again I see her. She is right in front of me.
She stays there for a short time gently resting.
She is light as snow. She is pure heaven.

The Comedy of Life

The comedy of life.
A red glove under the bed.
Leaking words,
Unreadable thoughts through my head.
Vanishing desires.
Drunk feelings all over me,
And looks,
Many looks.

Silver pearls,
Flies in the eyes.
Sugary mouths,
Poisoned teeth.
I eat bitter fruits.
I wear many masks.
Stormy souls all around me.
Raining secrets,
In the comedy of my life.

Blind,
Uncertain she goes.
Myth but not truth.
Fear of course.
Then silent,
We are sure, no more words.
Steady eyes and pale smile.
Rigid hands and cold skin.
It's all gone.
For ever, who knows?
What was life about?
A road to heaven, or just a comedy?
The comedy of life?

Humble Beginnings

Teenage dreams are humble beginnings.
Decision time!
Nonsensical hope of life.
Ding - Dong,
Just a couple of words.
Great week on the devil's highway.
The pain barrier takes care of devalued concepts,
But does it matter?
Lost years of eyes dancing with invisible friends.
Bright future turns nasty.
A rising tide of repression inspires a man,
And the golden way is down.
Visionary education.
Cultural reinaissance.
Invisible ingridients.
Crash and burn.
Think outside the ghost town.

Venus Sails the River

After moments of folly and pain
I feel much better,
I am what i am, i can not change.
I sat in a valley of golden grain.
Venus sailed the river,
I looked at the stars from a bench.
And since that day
I am still looking
Because the sky is so deep and immense.
Day after day
I will keep on searching,
One more day makes difference.

I don't know how the story begun
But i hope it will never end
Because i feel out of this world
And I hope it will never end.

I remembered crowns of golden grain.
Brown strong delicious roots.
I stood on my own feet.
I didn't feel any strain.
I put on my best boots,
And walked down the street.
The lovers from the window
Kissed and said goodbye.
I danced with my own shadow,
I never felt so high.
Tears washes off the sorrow.
It's of joy, if i cry.

The Rising of the Idiots

One step forwards,
Two steps behind.
The rising of the idiots,
I really don't understand.
The rising of the idiots,
That's all we can.

We pull many faces
As days go by.
Our poses hide the truth
That we're living a crazy lie.
Do we mean what we say,
Or do we just speak in vain?
Facts are made of words,
In the name of silent lords.

He said, do we trust each other?
If not, why shouldl I bother?
We might meet again, hi!
Nice day, whatever, bye.
He said - I thought someone said so
Have we met before?
It was a rainy day.
I don't remember, I don't care anyway.

Aimless enjoyment is nothing.
Aimless enjoyment is all.
We need to change the way we live.
We need to change it all.
Embrace our souls!

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