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Preface of my new book

Preface of my new book "Do not look at" soon in bookstores

not deny that reading the stories contained in this collection I have pleasantly involved and at the same time upset .
Ferlazzo, in this second publication, he manages to keep up the reader's interest with plots that, even on the edge of fantasy, describing the mood and conditions of life, unfortunately, still relevant.
feelings, thoughts, remorse, feelings materialize into real people, talking, comparing, making the reader feel that he would not be and see what he would also love. Ferlazzo
Philip is able to convey to the reader the same penalties and the same joys that the everyday life of this world, tied to the distortions of the meaning of many ways of being and living, it offers us with constant, remarkable frequency. Just follow the press to realize that the story may well be the mirror of a society that is losing value and interest for life.
Ferlazzo also tells of love, the real one, the one that has no place in space and time, but is perpetuated in the memories and is strengthened by its fruits.
The phenomenon of child abuse, the neglect of the suffering neighbor, the drug abuse on women, but also love, perhaps ideal, but certainly necessary to elevate the man at the right level of spirituality which the Creator has sold against his will, are the clear images that are drawn in this brilliant work to Ferlazzo.
Man can not rise to the higher dimension if it fails to interpret his own life, their world in the way the author presents the stories of these. Run to dead ends trying to escape unsuccessfully to flaws and love passionately to create the result of feeling tragically lost, but lives are, paradoxically, the opposite conditions in which, today, the man is struggling.
The book, therefore, opens a message, especially for young people, the real actors of the stages of life as told by Ferlazzo: aspire to 'immortality is not only the spirit but with the power of the shares.


Nino Lo Iacono

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Other Simenza

THE END OF ALL

slips her dress from the terrace
and graceful dance with the wind
Beyond Over the hills
trees
A man yells at another man
A man kills another man
ends the dance begins crying

A woman picks up her dress lying on the ground. A tear A sigh


The end of everything.

NIGHT WAITING

Fireflies light the night walk
shepherds wandering to foreign lands
In the silence of the night they heard a moan ...

The cry of the world.

PART OF A GEISHA

Every night the geisha
sang and sang of his beautiful samurai
Dressed in silk prints of peacocks. Every night the geisha


dreamed and dreamed of a handsome samurai
surrounded by lotus flowers and red poppies. Every night the geisha


crying and crying her pretty samurai
reading the exploits of his hero. Every night the geisha


died and died for his samurai
For his samurai.

MITE

NIGHT The night warms my thoughts
To turn them into cold words
At dawn dawn.

RECALL

Overworked and tired
The sailor got into the ship

Unable to resist the call of the sea.

Morpheus

I'll be away over the mountains

Over the western seas.

In your presence I will raise
To illuminate
Your faces pale.

In my warm embrace
Your
cold shoulder
In your eyes tired
desirous of a safe sleep
be supporting my fingers.

will give relief to your life
With my heavenly song.

will accompany you in the night illuminating the path

Of your human thoughts.

WHERE YOU

And you
On this night without stars
In the silence where you
stretch my hands
It will be up to you
Passing through the endless night Until

you get where you are where you are.

EMIGRANTS

listen tell me what the sea
contain all the words in my heart

'll bring in my eyes the images of waves caressing the beloved land

I will treasure the thoughts of my land
To bring my story with me in this new land

Unknown to my gaze
'll bring you the words of his mother to give me comfort

In the dark days that will greet my land

Stifling my tears.

ORPHEE

clothes of my memories,
and dance for me again.
Hold me in your hands and
sorreggimi over time.

Tell new stories,
quenches my cravings.
Intonami new melodies,
and dance for me again.

Paint with new colors, gray
of my vanity.

enclose the silence
to give peace to your senses.
'll give you my time
because only this man possesses.
And you will be the cure to my joy.

clothes of my memories,
and dance for me again ...

LONG GOODBYE


And then to
pretended to be asleep to dream of flying

And suddenly wakes up to find the pillow
My dreams as a child.

I get lost in your eyes deep as the sea

Your lips tremble
the breath of my most beautiful words.

I like to hear your stories
stand and watch the sea
Saziarmi of your words that the wind takes
And find comfort in the remembrance of a look and think about only


our best days still
When our words had
sense and do not stop the frail appearance of a long goodbye.

Bruising And Hot Spots

From where I am inspired

The sea inspires me ... that rocks my dreams ... my dreams ... my sea ... my life.

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Simenza

"Master ... how can I do? "said the girl
by dark circles, patting the hood of green cloth with the fingers worn by the hard work of filtering and firing

" I do not sleep at night, and heavy thoughts plague my soul. I feel the weight of things to come and I fear that torments me. Do you have a few plants, some precious essence .. a root extract that relieves the load? "
With a calm smile painted on his thin lips, the hoary-bearded man approached the girl. He stared at her softly penetrating irises in her eyes verdeacqua. Then he said: "My dear, why in the world covet the remedy? Begging here before me? Why groped to reproduce it artificially when all the ingredients for your care are in you? Search
the seeds in your mind .. There you will find colored confetti that you thought you had forgotten. Memories of youth. The seeds of the tangerine of your fears, hopes, hiding under the pillow. Peanuts of your desires. The extravagance of the spirit. Pain. And there is the hidden potential of wonderful things, in small caskets that already contain things that are going to be.
not need anything else.
Seeds. "


The girl turned her back to the elderly from the shining hair, and headed straight towards itself, inwards, together the warm sound of the sea.

Amaro love love loving

What was given to me from the lips of fire
His eyes burned skin


to spy on my soul I was tainted by his desire mind

And his hands
choked my pleasure.

Amaro
love that I miss the nights
turning around in this empty bed
My hands wish her skin
Her hair
The scent killing me The torment


The bitter love
curse that was given to me.

His tired eyes ringed by dark circles black crave looking for a sign of a color. Disoriented, laying eyes afflicted everywhere. Tired of her torment, and the weight of his thoughts, he falls on the golden sand on the border between land and sea. Look at his bare feet and the enamel of his faded black nail them while slowly sinking into the sand as fine as flour.

"Why are you sad girl? ... What is troubling you?" Her voice came
making unexpected jump. Looked up and saw the figure of a beautiful woman, radiant, almost untouchable. "I do not sleep at night, and heavy thoughts plague my soul. I feel the weight of things to come and I fear that torments me. I have to try the seeds in my mind .. where to find colored confetti that I thought I had forgotten. Memories of my youth. The seeds of the tangerine of my fears, hopes that hiding under the pillow. Peanuts of my desires. The extravagance of the spirit. Pain. And there is the hidden potential of wonderful things, in small caskets that already contain things that are going to be.
I do not need anything else. This I know.
I find .. Seeds. "
With a gentle smile and maternal love, the woman with sensuous lips approached the girl. He took his hands of her thin white fingers. Then he said: "My dear, why do you torment? Why seek unnecessarily what is already inside you?

Why yes, these little treasures are already there in your belly. You only have to water them ...
Look over there .. this endless sea, collect the tears of heaven and the joy of our rivers which join up to him. All this gives him the power to inspire and give inspiration to his art of ancient models of the earth.
Here you will certainly find the nectar you are looking for nectar

your seeds And you do not need anything else. Only
rocking, watering .. seeds. And you'll see, beautiful roses will bloom. "

The woman turned her back to the girl and headed straight toward the horizon, walking lightly on the shoreline, leaving slight impression that the sea immediately remove.


This is the project that we are making me and my cousin Fabio Shivanarquois in art. To view most of the work visit:

www.simenzaferlazzo.blogspot.com

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THE PREFACE PREFACE WRITTEN BY ME IN MY BOOK

Appetizer

It's fantastic to enter the world of Shiva Narquois through this work before. A warm world full of unique characters and details. A world in which the author confides in no uncertain terms and filters, which places its own questions, fears and hopes. Through the stories, taken from real or fanciful, addresses issues completely original. And in the background of the topics covered, which stands out clear and obvious loneliness and the malaise of our day
, alternate different characters - all representative of the various nuances of his being one - who, through emotional involvement with which the author describes them, they take the form becoming live, tragicomic and colorful. The writer deals with this path with a writing sophisticated and refined, but that does not weigh down the reading. Indeed, this feature makes the work even more original and fresh, and not at all trivial. The result is a book that can suck the reader into a vortex of emotions that only the writing of Shiva Narquois can give. The cornerstone of this little work, this intimate diary, the author is loneliness and the search for a path of life, a boy leads him to become a man. It addresses this issue immediately with the first story of the book
, Odin. But I am also touched topics such as search for a spirituality in the joints or soft human vanity in the fun and ambiguous Violavanità. A large space is devoted to poetry, autobiographical verses where they are refined and sophisticated in a highly personal style.
What can I say? The ingredients are all there for a good plate of seafood. To all of you a good read.

Philip Ferlazzo

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An Example Of Annual Day Speech

preface of the book "STOP AND TALK"

written by Dr. Nunziatina Bartolone.

Preface

Twenty years life seems to flow like a river along the banks of experiences that orient and accept the course: the friendships, parties, studies, love The family ... You can not imagine that this flow of days and emotions, waiting for the future is outlined with its sharp edges, after the expectations and hopes of youth, we should stop suddenly, in a rainy evening , including the crash of a car and broken glass on the asphalt ...
Antonio, the protagonist of "Stop and talk" assists, helpless and full of guilt, the sudden and senseless arrest of the life of Clara and her death even his life seems to stop ...
Which way to the course of everyday life that seems to proceed as if nothing has happened? It makes sense to seek a new direction for the days to come? Comfort in the silence are imposed without the words were not spoken in time, revealing interiority, but also the age when the feelings do not yet know how to express it, too fragile, young people sometimes do not know how to recognize them. We are looking for answers to unspoken questions, and that limit intangible that separates life from death is manifested as visible and real, upsetting the reason and imposing new questions and requiring a journey of discovery. The memorial sites are transformed into places where you would prefer a "other" dimension, a rueful smile and maternal urges a child not be afraid to explore the mystery that lies beyond life to discover what could be after the death ... The
slow and difficult recovery of the inner flow of Antonio will experience loneliness, his own and that of Sarah, the choke hold of her passion, the frenzy of jealousy that destroys any possibility of tenderness to the dramatic and unexpected ending before reaching the serenity desperately sought by both.
With a simple writing, which is expressed through a common language and simple, "Stop and talks about "tells a true story, surreal, bordering on the mystery hidden expressing the need to understand and difficult to express themselves, life, death, the afterlife, the sense of going away forever and still remain, continuing a dialogue that is never interrupted ...

Nunziatina Bartolone

PUBLISHER KIMERIK www.kimerik.it