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	<description>Non le restò che acquattarsi sotto il madido cielo nei boschi di braci del suo cuore</description>
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		<title>sottopelle</title>
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			<item>
		<title>*Varchi del rosso* su Imperfetta Ellisse</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/11/05/varchi-del-rosso-su-imperfetta-ellisse/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/11/05/varchi-del-rosso-su-imperfetta-ellisse/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 04 Nov 2009 23:38:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[rita r. florit]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=385</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[

Ringrazio Giacomo Cerrai per l&#8217;attenzione al mio video
*Varchi del rosso* qui
&#160;
&#160;
&#160;
Posted in rita r. florit       <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=385&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
	
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		<item>
		<title>La nuit commence</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/la-nuit-commence/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/la-nuit-commence/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 04 Nov 2009 22:17:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Alfredo Riponi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ariane Dreyfus]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rita r. florit]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[traduzioni]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=381</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
La nuit commence.
Berçant la vie et berçant la mort
Entre les draps.
Mais un doigt s&#8217;enfonce
Pour rejoindre l&#8217;étoile vraiment solitaire.
Elle se contracte, c&#8217;était donc l&#8217;anémone
— mouillée par moi, pas par la mer —
Qu&#8217;il faut lécher
Lorsque la langue comme l&#8217;enfance
A tout le temps.
Courbant ma pensée, je viens sourire dans les poils,
Une vraie joie sans raconter d&#8217;histoire.
Tu appuies tes fesses, un [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=381&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Anne Waldman &#8211; Makeup on Empty Space</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/27/anne-waldman-makeup-on-empty-space/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/27/anne-waldman-makeup-on-empty-space/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 27 Oct 2009 12:57:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Anne Waldman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=377</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
Nuova poesia americana:  esce il volume dedicato a New York  qui
Posted in Anne Waldman Tagged: Anne Waldman      <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=377&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Genere</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/genere/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/genere/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 23 Oct 2009 18:43:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Francesco Nappo]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=373</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Al tempio di Serapide


 
 
Il vento mi ha mutato
come ombra di rose
la mano che le tocca
lungo il sentiero.
Ed essere vorrei
fuoco bracile,
per selve, senza fiamma
se non stata.
Oh autunno elisio,
dammi soltanto
la tua breve pace!


 
***


 
Avorio e tenebra,
compagna. Adorna sei
d’un cielo che stemma
nelle vene l’ora
arcangelica. Notte
e aranceto, balaustra
salsa. Lontana, algente,
immota aurora,
ultima fiamma,
temprata corona.


 

Francesco Nappo, Genere, [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=373&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<title>la terra più del paradiso</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/11/tre-poesie-di-roberta-dapunt/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/11/tre-poesie-di-roberta-dapunt/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 11 Oct 2009 12:45:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Roberta Dapunt]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=354</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[La mia Confessione fedele
.

 
 
 
Curo i prati come il pavimento della mia casa,
guardo l’erba come il tappeto sul quale
allignano i figli e un tempo contento.
Non vi è obbligo di appartenenza.
Ogni filo d’erba è una speranza,
il diritto per l’umiltà di un altro
che l’ha preceduto e che io ho falciato,
raccolto e scelto per necessità e [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=354&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/11/tre-poesie-di-roberta-dapunt/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Registro di Poesia#2  Edizioni d&#8217;If</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/06/registro-di-poesia2-edizioni-dif/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/10/06/registro-di-poesia2-edizioni-dif/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 06 Oct 2009 22:43:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[antologie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rita r. florit]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=348</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[
Esiste questa forza contrapposta
che scaglia temperanza oltre i confini,
convoca asciutte nubi primordiali,
calcina freschi cieli inappagati.
Si sfrangeranno ai bordi del Consueto
le resistenze inutili del fare,
arrugginito remo che s’incaglia.
 
 
 .
Rita R. Florit da “Tenaci Disperazioni”
Registro di Poesia #2,  Edizioni d’if 2009
Posted in antologie, rita r. florit       <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=348&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Giardino rinchiuso</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/09/22/giardino-rinchiuso/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/09/22/giardino-rinchiuso/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Sep 2009 15:39:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Pier Luigi Bacchini]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=336</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[


 
Tutte queste foglie. E l’albero di sambuco ricco di sensi.
Piovaschi.
Quando il sambuco si bagna, profuma intensamente.
Primordiali verdi. Oh, nella mia vita
ho conosciuto donne e uomini
ma anche dèi.
Ho parlato
E mi rispondevano. E’ difficile: se parlano
sembra sempre che dicano altro.
Intermediari?
Alcuni
parlavano attraverso foglie rosse
nascoste da altre foglie
con nervature molto evidenti. Senza nome. Foglie
assai vaste,
bacate,orride. Toccavano terra.
E’ difficile [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=336&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">ritaflorit</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>Pierre Jean Jouve</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/09/07/pierre-jean-jouve/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/09/07/pierre-jean-jouve/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2009 10:15:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Pierre Jean Jouve]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[rita r. florit]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[traduzioni]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=329</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Traverse d’un cri mon cerveau, hirondelle aux quatre
douleurs
C’est aujourd’hui le plus ancien printemps
Dans le ciel gris la croix grise du convent
Et la tempête a métamorphosé les verdures.


 
*Deserts* da les Noces (1925-1931)


 
 


 
Rondine di dolori, trafiggi con un grido il mio cervello
Oggi è la più antica primavera
Nel cielo grigio la croce grigia del [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=329&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">ritaflorit</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>La différence</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/08/30/la-difference/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/08/30/la-difference/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 30 Aug 2009 14:04:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Michel Deguy]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=322</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[

 
“Car à peine s’étaient-ils entr’aperçus, les autres /
S’avancèrent les premiers et les nôtres alors, l’âme /
Curieuse, firent halte à leur tour sous l’olivier,  / Mais
loersq’ils eurent touché leurs vêtements / Sans que nul
découvrît un sens aux dires / De l’autre, le discord / Eût
pu naître si les branches n’avaient laissé descendre /
Sur eux cette [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=322&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">ritaflorit</media:title>
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		<item>
		<title>urgenza della luce</title>
		<link>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/08/04/urgenza-della-luce/</link>
		<comments>http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/2009/08/04/urgenza-della-luce/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 04 Aug 2009 08:34:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ritaflorit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Christine Koschel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cristina Campo]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poesia]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sottopelle.wordpress.com/?p=315</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[



*
 
 
A chi rimbomba il tamburo
del teschio
tra rovinii di parole
– quale di esse può
risorgere
per afferrare un sorso di
respiro
per dondolarsi nella cuna
della bocca
per ferrigna recarsi
nell’arengo della parola? –
colui sfida di colpo
l’incendio,
Dolore della luce
che lo costringe al verso
oscuro –
crisi di astenia
della lingua, lo dicono.
Tardo giardino
Tardo giardino
– i bambini corrono in
tenera possessione
dietro le farfalle, nei fiori.
In agile [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sottopelle.wordpress.com&blog=3314213&post=315&subd=sottopelle&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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