#fallone

[michelenigrowordpresscom]

Nota a "Mantiche allo specchio" di Lidia Fraccari

Le arti divinatorie quando incontrano la parola poetica diventano “autopsie coscienti” su se stessi ma hanno bisogno di uno specchio, dinanzi al quale sedersi, non importa se “datato, tarlato, giunto da epoche diverse” e se ci “chiede in quante vite viviamo” mentre “sospira greve di tarli e aloni”. A un certo punto si avverte l’esigenza di un hic et nunc per ordinare il traffico di vite…

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[marcogiovenale]

oggi, 13 febbraio, online @ centroscritture, presentazione di "campagne", di giancarlo busso (ed. fallone, 2025)

cliccare per ingrandire Campagne, opera d’esordio di Giancarlo Busso, è una raccolta di prose e poesie nella quale si dipana una fenomenologia della percezione minuziosa che si allarga al sotteso degli oggetti, delle atmosfere, della fabbrica umana e del suo rapporto/scontro con le leggi della natura, del conflitto umano-animale all’interno di una legge ecologica di competizione. “Le campagne di…

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[marcogiovenale]

13 febbraio, online @ centroscritture, presentazione di "campagne", di giancarlo busso (ed. fallone, 2025)

cliccare per ingrandire Campagne, opera d’esordio di Giancarlo Busso, è una raccolta di prose e poesie nella quale si dipana una fenomenologia della percezione minuziosa che si allarga al sotteso degli oggetti, delle atmosfere, della fabbrica umana e del suo rapporto/scontro con le leggi della natura, del conflitto umano-animale all’interno di una legge ecologica di competizione. “Le campagne di…

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[michelenigrowordpresscom]

Nota a "Tempo assediato" di Titos Patrikios

Quand’è che la vita vissuta comincia a far sentire il proprio peso (inteso come valore consistente capitalizzato nel tempo e non come mera “fatica”)? A che punto del nostro cammino esistenziale riusciamo a trasformare il disincanto in poesia? Il non fatto che “mi tormenta di più” in “parola casuale” che rinfranca? Non esiste una regola comune, per fortuna, ma ognuno sceglie modalità e tempi,…

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[marcogiovenale]

antonio syxty legge june scialpi

June Scialpi (1998) vive a Pisa. Si interessa di queer, transfemminismi e shōjo. Ha pubblicato Il Golem. L’interruzione (Fallone Editore 2022) con il quale vince la prima edizione del Premio Flaiano di poesia under 35. Collabora con varie realtà online e presto uscirà per la collana Manufatti poetici dell’editore Zacinto di Milano una sua raccolta di poesie.

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[umbraspeculum]

Atlas

Some ships sail further than thought, and this was no leviathan. It was no great beast with a luminescent hide to store millions within, to see nothing outside of it but through these many gills, as fins rend through stars. Instead, there was a time when normal ships, but so much more grand, could tear through the very confines of waters and set themselves into the skies. Never would they be these great celestial serpents, but they swam among them. Cloth set high as it grasp these invisible winds, and the crew orchestrated as they work in unison to keep their great beauty afloat. For with serpents was there always poison, and poison attracted much crueler things in their wake. Angels had not woven themselves into this tale, not long lasting as Kutiel and Sorath and their steady fractures. Ever still, the forces at work among the heavens was comparable to the magic bestowed to them by the Gods and Goddesses. It took a great crew to man these ships, and to brave these parallels among the maw of Death and its very self. As hulking beasts of contorted shapes and skin dance to and fray, coaxing the ship into her very ruination. Leviathans were seen as familiars, and while massive to their sliver of fleeting wood, tides  easily turn, and it can turn hostile. For the races of the Echoes had chosen to tame such savage things, as they did with the rest of the Seas of all Stars. Manning the sails were not only but the strength of Sailors, but there too,  soldiers and excellent archers that a galaxy has to offer. Their arrows built of the remnants of a fractured sun that burned so brightly when the Dragon was at its birth. The steel cooled of the finest waters, but corrosive that with  the slightest alteration it may fracture, and imbed its metal traces into woven blood of beast and Familiar alike. Not to be trifled with, and all the while still elegant. Faceless warriors, or perhaps deemed so for their armour and their eyes unseen, embarking upon the heavens where the heavens do reach their end. Where there is a wall of mountain made only of rubies and the Power’s finest stones. Things the Echoes have no use for, and had been forgotten and left for the rarity of other seekers to draw them to their homes. While their grotesque creatures circle the Seas in their many abnormal features, the skies hold home to much more beautiful but fierce things. With many heads, many limbs, and beaks that tear a hole in the most perfectly forged armour. Yet, there was something about these sails that did not break. For this ship was more than what it appeared, and within the wood was the crews very souls. They had sold themselves to this travel, and to abide by the ventures they partake was their only solace in the Grand Universes. The most notable was their captain by the name of Fallone, following an some old map and dubbing it the Atlas of which they rode. It was a clumsy attempt of the heavens, and it had not lead them directly to this particularly rewarding wall. Instead it had brought them into the depth of these many beaks and the shrill call of things indescribable by a single man’s words. She had brought her crew faithful and full with as much passion as their very ship, into these lands above the Star Seas itself. To places where the Gods had forbidden them to go aside from their beloved Echoes. Where the land itself threatened to devour them whole, and the Time Goddess herself had set chase upon her dominion being tainted with the scent and presence with something so foreign as themselves. An obscure odyssey, of where they had reached the very top, only to be caught by something older than leviathans themselves, if not their very source and origin herself. Her armour glimmered of the things that the Echoes hoarded, if not had been  crafted carefully by them for their serpentine Goddess. Only just, they felt as this was the very thing that had kept watch over them and had assured their immortality. While these plundering crews merely come to pirate and threaten the lands of which they reside, when in the past they had saved the Grand City and Centre itself. Each race falls to its folly, and repeats the mistakes the other makes, and that woven of time knows this well. She is not of space, but her maw opens as her tongue flicks out to taste the familiar presence of what has been here before. Fallone tries to negotiate with the serpent, and her men abide well to her very words. Yet she is no silver-tongue, and while she had won many wars and had travellled many travels, this was not her place. So quickly did diplomacy fall back to savagery, and still their sails held against the violent onslaught these intruders invoked. They find themselves plummeting, and in plummeting do they lose their Atlas. Descending into the ramparts of even more peculiar things than that which fly in their once so familiar skies and their seas, their soul-borne ship now sets itself upon magma. She and her crew are willful and wise, and they allow falter not, and so this anti-Space of where they once embarked does not anchor them. They slowly clamber from this new-found core, and they search for this lost map which is held in high belief to be intact. The Time Goddess has preserved it, as it had been caught within her very being, said to have swallowed it as she had set them back in time with a singular roar. The monsters in these depths, they do not cower from. For they are marksman, and Fallone has led them through worse hells than the Gods themselves can conjure, and continuously will they ascend. Never will they leave until these rubies and parchment is within grasp, and upon Home would they be heroes and tales will speak of them past.

[prenomdunepipe]

Quand cette maman s'est dit que mélanger phallus et fellation dans un prénom aiderait sa fille à réussir dans la vie...

[cluts]

I really like your blog! Your icon is super cool aha!

:-)

love ur icon and url they r good i think ur theme is ok but i do see it quite a lot BUT it works with ur posts very well and i like ur bg as well and ur so cute omg