Ridha Chtorou is an inmate of the prison Sollicciano, which are in contact with .. I do not know concretely its life history. I know it was tough. I know it came from Tunisia. And in Italy has been through a lot. I also know that we are facing a "mystical prison dress, with sudden moments of fire that flies all over and the bars do not stop the fantasies and immaginizioni. While writing his hands, creating what some call Delusions .. and we call SIZE

-----------------------------

THE PART OF LIFE

Now and forever, I surplus

increasingly, by collecting and revealing

to the limits of my time

choose here one by one

went on for him in brotherhood

gigantic beauty of a stallion

lively and responsive to my caresses

you use only a moment, then leave you

I need that in your stride

when I beat the same

even sitting still and

I run quicker than you

in space and time

I realize that it is true oma

who are journeying with my vision

satisfied el compatriot and foreigner

happy nuuovo and ancient

happy atheist and the believer

my route running under the lead of the rocks

along the ancient hills of the world

with the beautiful gentle God by my side

projected into space

across the sky and the stars

raging, enjoying, planning

loving, using caution

backwards, invading,

opening and disappearing

I walk the streets like night and day

seem to expect something from me

speaks stubborn old, do you want?

mind you, I do not lecture

nor do charity work

When I give, my all gift stgesso

You there, impotent gaze elusive

open your eyes rolled out of nothing

because I'll puff, courage

do not ask who you are

but be what you wrap in

I come to expand and apply

learn more outgoing of the old guards

putting myself here and now

in the womb of time

when you become a

surely you, me and the worlds

will succeed, even where we are now

and then farther and farther

avrremo embraced when all those worlds

known and enjoyed all of them

we will be satiated and satisfied then?

if he wanted to understand, adapt to high ground

or near water

the first fly is a clarification

a drop or motion of waves, a chave

everything is neither chaos nor death

everything is form, union, drawing

has eternal life and happiness

past and present

I have them filled and emptied

and I am going to fill

the next cavity of the future

I say that the soul is worth more than the body

I say that the body no longer holds AIMA

and I say that nothing, not even God

chinque is greater than his ego

and I say to all human

Be curious about God

listen and see God in every object

I do not understand yet why should I

want to see it better now

I see something of God each hour

in every moment

I see God in every human face

and in my mirror

I find letters from God to the streets

each signed with his name

and leave them where they are

because I know that wherever I go

others are always and forever

you listen up there

you have to confide in?

look at me while fiiuto

the stealthy advance of death

frankly speaking, I stay only a minute

you can talk before I left is

but you can not try

when it is too late.

The vision vanished, vanished joy

vanished singing soul

that bridges the gap of heaven

I realize that men and women

I saw I were closer

not only on their

fall of dark spots

casts its dark stain

also above me

I knitted

the old knot of contradictions

I lied, blushing, I have offended

I stole it, envied

I was cunning, anger, lust

burning desire that I did not dare confesar

I was ingorno, vain, crafty and futile

the wolf, the pig and the snake

not wanting in me

deceptive appearance, the phrase frivolous

I do not lack the desire adulterer

odes, waste, delays and baseness

nothing I miss

I like the other one

I had the days and the fate degl'altri

I lived the same happiness of others

the same old laugh, cough and sleep

representing at the party

always refers to the actor actress

the same old part that is

as we create

as big as we want

small as we want

or large and small together

What the study could not teach

and the sermon could not improve

now made

live old life, playing the part

which recalls the actor ol'attrice

the old party is small or large

as each one creates.

Ridha Chtorou

Friday 11th I was in Rome .. about ten in the morning .. metro station in Sao Paulo.
Approaching a guy with a beard, is the attitude of one about to ask. And I for a moment that I sort of automatic tightening, even unknowingly, you have, for two days after you have approached at least fifty people with that ' attitude. And this what makes you think .. how those who come after will not be given the same attention to who comes first .. and inevitably face a cauldron of all.
But .. a sort of mixture of education dies hard and very vague regret perhaps fed guilt to the pain and the need .. urges me not to move automatically, or not posted at least before he has said a word.
And this gives me a sheet .. tells me that he is a poet .. and distributes his poems .. and if I want to give a small contribution in order to support in exchange for them ..
And then something in me melts. In addition to whole pieces of paper, I had two euro coin and give them to him. He did not just ask for money. Offered something of himself. And then .. not ashamed to call themselves a poet, and even ask for a contribution for his poems. Stuff that tastes Martian ended up accidentally on Earth.
Or maybe the damn cinematic fascination now know it's a sickness inside of me .. And this scene was so cinematic that I be grateful for it ..
And then I thought about this in some kind of dump miserable lives and writes his poems knows how absurd passion between the cold and loneliness, feeling a hundred times a day fuoriposto, one hundred and as many again by raising the buttocks because fuoriposto it has to go ..
And I was wondering if you are also writing a book, even with recycled paper and other thrown ..
if chasing some dreams in the folds distracted, the angolli and shadows between the walls of the city ..
I take the papers .. e.. now I was in the movie .. I put a hand on his right arm ...
and say ...
CONTINUED ....
and I go, but the new coach meters approaches, and I look back and not give him the burden of gratitude, and thank him for making me say those words so many times I dreamed I had been told
when a top chipped in snow pain tore his song .. and sometimes someone told me ... like a sparrow legs broken ..
CONTINUE ...
You and me, us and them, window screens, projector, lights inside the asylums, and prisons of the soul, dreams like footprints in the mud, sweet love on her hips,
some do not give up yet,
Love is not an easy thing ...
CONTINUE
--------- --------- --------- --------- ----
Here one of the poems contained in that paper .. ah, the name of the
boy .. Emiliano ..

Gladdens my soul
of fragrant strawberries sprinkled
dancing in the shadows
composed of icy snow on roofs
soft music
invades my body light
of your hands when
I dare see the shadow
and color your eyes
executioner of sweetness
sweet set
my crazy Sorisi
There is joy in my dreams
when your body pool
with desire
I await your rebirth
sweet creature
expect your pain
sweet love
look forward to your being
while I have your friendship
I do not have your company
I te

No hope for women on March 8 ... A woman I like to celebrate or honor individually from time to time .. and not all crammed into these indigestible cauldrons of hot air and rhetoric. Or better .. who wants to participate in the show face as well. But the hot air has never been my forte. Like clothes and cars hired, or the battles clockwork and programs "for the occasion," the rhetoric of every stripe, the refuge in the roles.

The role is a warm womb ...

"You see, a woman ..."

"As man ..."

But he speaks directly to what you ... without further assumptions. No one has ever understood less of those who tried to put in some pot "you-men" or apply on me some books to read rnfusa the "male brain". The same for those who chatter about "female brain". Will not give you no hope now. Both of mimosa there will already be enough. You will not miss a twig in more .. indeed it may contribute to saving overdose. Do not put a good coat of who has the stamp of "politically correct" buttocks. At most I can not attend Augusta those sad and pathetic events for women on March 8 the evening ... a burqa on the contrary .. but still .. a burqa ... with the yearning to find and convince screamed for fun (convince itself) that have cats in cages, let those few days out. We hope if anything (and in fact I can only hope to men, all who need it ..) to be free, free as many women I have seen is without revenge empty plastic, fake freedom to exhibit bray, orgies windbag .. just free, also free from having to "play the role of a woman" ... free from the tables booked a few days a year ... free from the days .. "Women only" .. from local "women only" .. the magazine "for women" ....

Just things ... "men only" .. "Only for gay .. "Just for teenagers ..." to just north ".. alone .. alone .. alone .. you want the sun .. I just want ... ... Catholic schools only for Jews ... Muslims ... Only ghettos. And the ghetto many of you carry inside, soul groups ... groups, mirror reflections .. similar between us is reflected and we wash each other .... because you always been the victims (often at least almost always), the victim syndrome atrium trap your mind, our mind, of my own ... .. I hope you will not see you as a bitch strip in front of some men, pretending to enjoy it, disguise yourself as emancipation .. when in reality it is becoming so similar to men .. copy the mannerisms and fashions .. As Flack said .. become "sun like a man ... bitches like a man .."

Authenticity. Someone genuine please. If there comes and if not going to sell hot air to breath and the teeth elsewhere. What this world choking on words and proclamations, claims and analysis ... but we are all enclosed in a cocoon, we live with the mind, love the fences, and mental laziness. If you think you understand everything about me because I'm in the "men", it means that you have not understood anything .. and please throw in the toilet tests Novella 2000, psychologists bang, the programmacci pomeridani what field of rhetoric between men and women .. throws the pee on the toilet, the sock on the floor, cold beer, the belching, the games ... and all the other images appiccicchi to every person you meet .. running the same movie in your mind ... Every woman knows that it means to be put into a callderone .. unable bitch ... ... .. child etc ... The art of a woman is looking eyes without other image or mental ballast ...

Yes we wish you ... I do not go out in groups of enhanced Bacchae and then come back tomorrow in the den and kennel can be Bacchae ... .. but it is not always ... AC ... I wish to escape to a world of ghetto .. or easy to think that only a woman will not realize ... giudia anyone before meeting him .. Moreover, the understanding, empathy and acuity were often female talent .. It seems the message of a bastard, but in reality is full of appreciation of the real women who met in his life ... so different from their parody ...

And Flack .. I wish .. not to become .. "Sun as a man" "bitches like a man" ... That said .. a toast it up too .. but for each individual who reads .. individually .. and not because it is the March 8 .. I do not care about the date .. I do not care about clothes hired.

salutamos