Fernanda Ferraresso- Padova, Italy 2018

ORGANIZER: Fernanda Ferraresso





sonia maria light possentini


Anna Maria Curci- Colorhaiku


Loose medlar
(orange beak and fruit)
tap the blackbird.


Pasticcia the yellow
on lantane ruffled
with red and lilac.


Naughty naughty
boyish green lizard .

21 May – 10 June 2016


End of February
white orange and white corner .

26 February 2018


pale pink and yellow
rose dog buttons .

May 13, 2018


sonia maria light possentini


Vincenzo Mastropirro – Poems


Children are
the best part. Purifications
in the malachite basin.
Blistered dark circles
distil all good
drain off salty liquid
and announce you.

They know to ask forgiveness
on their knees against the
pointed stool . They pray
mumble blasphemies
play insecure
without caring for anything
in this world that withdraws
and they know it.

They discover the body
without wanting
to challenge themselves with
they do not know and
they would not want to but
they would have
the thorn tear the skin does not hold.

Children are
better without childhood.


I know that he sees the bulwarks

u taghje steak and còpe
nan si tiue ca te si capòte the vèite
nesciune te velaje and you come

mo stè ‘ddà ca dè
‘ nanze au camese white dè

the chambers are vacant
all-night nudes
nesciune and nudde yes
nesciune yes

sènza naume yes
sènza vèite

t’ònne sfréggiòte cu tagghje

sènza facce yesénze
sènza sanghe
sènza recurde
sènza vàusce
sènza nudde

nudde, meninne mèje *

I saw kill the dead // the scalpel cuts and chooses / you’re not the one you chose life / nobody wanted you and you came // now you’re there you offer / in front of the white coat you offer // the room is empty / all around nothing / nobody and nothing you are / no you are // no name you are / no life // they scarred you with a cut / no face without / without blood / no memories / no voice / no nothing // nothing, my baby

* dialect of Ruvo di Puglia (Ba)

sonia maria light possentini


Anna Maria Farabbi- two poems from TALAMIMAMMA- Terra d’Ulivi editrice2014

beginning of the school

the teacher says that kites also go to
wind school
and every morning the children in Afghanistan
write without a desk or pen,
dipping a bamboo stick
into a jar of mud

in the field they learn the migrations
of the letters of the numbers of birds
and song



the story of the wind
blows from ear to ear
tears the flags and the
overturned borders carrarmati lies down
and sleeps the soldiers

you listen in a
concentration camp
or in a dark hospital room

wipes the tears
as he writes
on the stones and the skin of the sea

sonia maria light possentini


Fernanda Ferraresso –  two poems from A vaporetto a striato – Terra d’Ulivi editrice 2017


tie the thoughts
this told me the mestra
but I
‘m not able
I hear them run fast I
‘m the wind inside my head
and run away if they go around
the sea or hide
in a forest
are sometimes a cloud and not I know
how to harness
it I can not catch the fish or the kites
in which it draws
in short to tie the thoughts it
seems only wasted effort
the thoughts are dyed of all colors
and when they are black they merge
into the ink with which I close them
in the darkness of the notebook


curved walks the wind

on the back of the trees
and the animals carrying it

dark enter the room
I hear a breath from the forest
is the stranger who walks along the edge and
we are touched

do you hear it?

it is a profound solitude that
comes from far away
from all the places in the world
that we no longer hold by hand


sonia maria light possentini


Vittoria Ravagli  –  To little girls and children of the earth


Today the earth seems to sink
between ego wars, selfish pains

I believe in you

in the purity of your heart
in fantasy and in joy
in tenderness.

I hope that in the shadow of mothers you
will refuse the hatred
that you will love the land
that feeds us and guards
and its inhabitants
from the different colors
men women plants animals
in the beauty

Conscious freedom
, justice, love
will guide you.

In a long and distant time
there were no wars.
It is possible again.
Draw from the history of the people
to the wise memory.

And on the beaches
and along the seas of the earth
find yourself
singing the moon and the sun

And it will be peace.

I believe in you


sonia maria light possentini

M.Elena Danelli – Two texts  between Angelo and Anna and Nobody touches


Between Angelo and Anna

Between Angelo and Anna, who do not know each other
, a small spider’s droop stretches a
suspended bridge that vibrates in the air.
They drown and curl flowers that do not console.
They are perhaps looking, Angelo and Anna
hidden behind the trunk of a pine
or in the thick of foliage
or in the wind greedy for geometry.
They look at me from a distance I can not see
Life is a game, the wind whispers
a game,
do not be afraid.
Even the spider knows it
and a plectrum of feather rests on the bridge
a rope that quivers without sounding in sleep
and everything is sweeter.


Nobody touches

Angels, cherubs to which the children resemble,
the celestial rose that
rises above us with the voice of a hurricane
in black revolt.
That repulsive aspect of flesh faces
that cover bone masks
how can they support what the mirror postpones?
Even a single tear has the roar of a thousand and a thousand waves
shining like the sharpest blade
the smallest life
in the endless agony
in the palm of the hands closed like a prayer
around noise in this lake of still waters.
Whoever does evil does not look in his eyes
I feel like squash,


sonia maria light possentini


Mariangela Ruggiu- the tree and the butterfly

the tree and the butterfly
– what is fire? – one day asked
the tree to the butterfly
– I see lights throbbing in the houses
and sparks that rise,
I see hands of children stretched
like caresses on the flames
tell me what this enchantment
that even in your wings
shines so much –
The butterfly became sad
he searched in his heart for words
that did not have the darkness of death
– it is your love, he said
that he lights up so strongly –


the tree was naked in the rain
in a bark wrinkle
the butterfly with wings closed
waiting for a breath of stronger wind
and when the air stirred
all the doors
I think – it’s my flight – it
was instead a sparrow
a gray sparrow
that shook its wings
– it’s time to go, said the butterfly
I have faded wings and falls in the evening
I will confuse myself with the dark earth
will slide in a trickle of rain
or eat me chew
with love
and I will become you –


sonia maria light possentini





Anna Maria Curci – Rome – teacher, writer, literary criticism

Vincenzo Mastropirro – Bitonto – flutist, composer, poet, teacher

Anna Maria Farabbi – Perugia – writer, poet, essayist, translator, literary critic

Fernanda Ferraresso – Padova – teacher, writer, poet,

Vittoria Ravagli -Sasso Marconi- writer, poet, promoter and curator of associations and cultural events (“Le Voci della Luna”, Renato Giorgi award) organizer of seminars and conferences on issues concerning the life and activity of women, the Mother Goddess , (is part of the Marija Gimbutas group).

Maria Elena Danelli – Arco Trento – Milan – theatrical scenographer, painter, poet, writing scripts and critical texts, author of installations and videos, she deals with publishing

Mariangela Ruggiu-  Suni (OR) – writer, poet.

All the images published belong to Sonia MariaLuce Possentini who kindly allowed us to use them.  All the works are collected on the artist’s website  http://soniamarialuce.blogspot.com/



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