Rino Barillari, King of Paparazzi

22 June 2024 by 6 Comments

Harry’s Bar, Rome, on Via Veneto –

Where the king of paparazzi waits,

White bandage on his cheek, like a raw scar

Of honour – is heaving, full of Dolce

Vita‘s cream, in Rino’s memory –

Illustrious as some vague delirious fantasy

Of his gilded past… – He’s snapped back to the

Present, as out walks Gerard Depardieu

With his companion, Magda Vavrusova:

Sad scenes of sordid violence ensue –

*

Recalling Rino in his pomp, maybe,

Scourge of glitterati outside all the bars;

But now, he says, the street is like a cemetery

Thronged only with the lonely ghosts of stars.

*

**

*

Photo by Ziogiucas via Italian wiki

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Shall I Compare You

1 January 2021 by 5 Comments

This new sonnet riffs off Shakespeare’s 18th:

…for all those whose love is so fresh and strong it can seem unreal, here’s a sonnet for each and every one of us – Happy New Year!

Shall I compare thee you to a summer’s day… something you’re not?—

To me, you are living poetry

(Not some wordy simulation that can’t be)

And you’re the very essence of what’s hot—

Though similes like darling buds may grow

The sense of us, approximating us,

You’re as unique, incomparable

As our love will always be—deep, unfathomable:

And aren’t all of us much more than sensually defined

Both as couples, and as twinned lone souls (sometimes of one mind)?

Then, in the lives to come, more darling buds shall grow

To blossom free, just like the two of us:

Our loves as indescribable as real

(Although this near perfection sometimes seems unreal).

*

**

*

Freddie Omm

January 2021

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an empty beach in summertime

1 May 2020 by 5 Comments

Freeform sonnet and pic by Freddie Omm.

Filed Under: freddie omm, poem by freddie omm, poetry, sonnet

moving

10 October 2019 by 6 Comments


we humans stand alone and still in life until

love takes our hand  and kisses us and helps us walk and talk

*

loveless, the passing hours through which all things must pass

stand still the days succeeding days stand still

and all is focused on ourselves alone

as if the universe herself is holding breath

*

we humans stand alone in life until

one day we find our love and it is good

while loving lasts all lives are rich in joy

and come together we all taste the fruits of heaven.

*

so can we forget a while that sometimes

a human stands alone in life until they fall apart in death

and make our wishes all come true with hope

and faith in love to keep us humans moving?

*

**

*

freddie omm

venice beach

september 2019

Filed Under: Love poetry, love poem, poem by freddie omm, sonnet Tagged With: , , ,

essence

9 October 2019 by 3 Comments

the imagination required to see

how life grows through a series of moments

*

(at once selfcontained, static and timeless

yet flying yes swarming into infinity)

*

like flocks of geese breaking from an amber

sunset into invisibility

*

like summer nights fading in september

flown into those endless twilights of eternity

*

where sensation is becoming to where

we run blindly into fresh horizons

fading as each sunrise into darkness

this warm fleeting intimacy we share

created from those moments is the essence

*

**

*

freddie omm

big sur

september 2019

 

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grounded – a thing for me – split-line sonnet

23 November 2018 by 3 Comments

not for me

those clouds that fluff the sky and

shift their shape like ghosts

*

haunting heaven,

inhabiting while whiting out

our snowy floating formless hopes –

*

not for me

the worn-in practised phrase

that targets

*

some soft weakness of our stricken hearts,

but always misses,

misses

*

tittle-tattling flattery that bigs

us up

yet disses, disses –

*

o not for me

those chilled and flaky

trout-lipped puppet tendernesses

*

nor for me

those strung-out wants that need yet never do,

they’ll never do:

*

not for me a life that’s lost for lack of you.

*

for me then what is left to make my day?

for me your hand and head and heart and kiss

*

that permeate

the mark of love which others miss,

miss

*

mashing us while world spins on around us in its feckless way:

*

but all those flakes

who flurry through the sky, who

flourish infelicitously

*

without a touch from you

to ground them cannot be

a thing for me.

*

**

*

omm

november 2018

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come to me – sonnet

18 May 2018 by Leave a Comment

Come to me in the blind and breathless passion of a night

Spent loving free full feral without thought

For morning – climactic darling hours that brought

Us here as one and yet so other, clasped tight

 *

As here in bed between these warm and crumpled clinging sheets

We bask our bodies in the glow and gladdening glory of the sun

Each rapt and untamed moment which our lives have left to run

Each moment while in each of us our wild heartbeats

 *

With that loping looping rhythm pulsing love

Outpacing secret cadences of time.

*

Charged with that beat, may tantric rhythmic rhyme

Flow through our coupling, energy-infused from high above

 *

And let our inner powers grow and set us free:

May we become ourselves again, each time you come to me.

*

**

*

Omm

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song of the morning muse – sonnet

2 May 2018 by 6 Comments

Every morning I sing – the birds above

And earth below move in those dawning musings –

Those twists and turns of dream and thought, those swings

Of mood that drive us off course when we love

*

But when we think we have the lives we hoped we’d live

We sometimes see ourselves as creatures that we feared we’d be –

Monsters of imagination, whom we

Fed because of what we dreamed they’d give –

*

We travelled far through countries strange, and stranger time

Wore out our wishes, blotted all that dreaming shaped in rhyme:

Our vital hopes were blurred – still, half-asleep –

Although throughout it all our vocal passions stirred: racing deep –

*

Till one fine day (like now) we wake, we rub our eyes and then

Realise we’re singing songs of morning once again.

*

**

*
Omm

May 2018

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endings & beginnings

31 December 2013 by 5 Comments

my new year’s message this year is this quaint little ditty. i was writing out the fair copy this morning when i was interrupted not by a man from porlock but a mother-in-law from neuss bearing presents. so i had to finish it on a fresh sheet of paper which i then stuck together so you can see that the interruption came at a pertinent point:

endings & beginnings31122013_00000

for those who cannot decipher my writing:

 

                                                                  endings & beginnings

                                                                  (in a winter’s garden)

BEGIN with the word that comes first, like light

from a twilit winter’s garden, when soft rainfalls

drop on dewy, leaf-pocked grass, showering bright

like a sudden flow of MOMENTS through the calls

of a goosequilled V tooting past, this starry night…

*

I sometimes try to freeze TIME, so it stops

and in an INSTANT feel and think all blend

and merge within MOMENTS—consciousness drops

like heaven’s rainfall in a winter garden—

inconsummate, unbegun, word without END,

*

but now SOMETIMES I forget such somethings,

and in your love I’ve found SEASONS to care

about the here, NOW, not some perfected place where

there are no more ENDINGS and BEGINNINGS.

                                                                                              freddie o

                                                                        viersen, 29-31 december 2013

 

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past lost love (procrastination)

14 December 2010 by 2 Comments

i have been tinkering with the poem, past lost lies, i put on this blog last week.

i remember when i started writing it, it was with the intention of writing a sonnet –

(and maybe it is fanciful but as i posted it, it did seem truncated – the truncation however, being somewhat apt to the subject, didnt jar too much in my head.)

but now having tinkered, it is duly a sonnet, and completes a procrastinated teenage impulse, a true embodiment of what it is about…

here’s the text:

past lost love (procrastination)

… i have spent my life procrastinating
each hour postponing the next, so sad

to be without the love i want so bad
as my past lost lies, insinuating…

a sense of wantonness into my head,
her warmth between my sheets –

                                       – i remember
fucking and kissing in cold november…
the smell and feel of her fresh in my bed

and she so unexplored, driving me mad
with lust to be once again without lust

to lose her, let her go in timeless trust,
the best i had, or ever dreamed i had…

… but you today are all that time postponed
and past lost love deferred but not disowned…

              freddie omm

Filed Under: past lost love, procrastination, sonnet, teenage impulse