Biography:
Ermanno Spera is an artist born in Rome on 11 March 1967.
He is a poet and writer who invites the reader through wordplay into a more authentic and personal sense.
The texts express evocative messages and feelings that coexist in the individual and have universal significance.
Stylistically original poems with the presence of many evocative images.
Since 1999, he has been included with his poems in various national and international poetry collections and anthologies. He has also participated in numerous national and international literary competitions and was awarded the Literary Lifetime Achievement Award by the “Universum Academy Switzerland” in June 2023 in recognition of his valuable and extraordinary commitment in the cultural field and as a reward for his work in defending the values of peace and universal brotherhood.
Other national and international awards have been received.
In the 1990s, he was part of a group of poets who used to gather and sing their lyrics in pubs in Rome’s San Lorenzo district.
Ermanno Spera is also a painter and has participated with his works in numerous art exhibitions, both collective and personal, from 1998 to today.
A sunny, airy painting, his painting lives in a dream crowded with chimeras, winged horses, landscapes crowded with metaphysical characters. The attentive observer is able to grasp symbols on both things and animals, and these symbols serve man to be able to decipher the rebuses that life itself shows us every day.
Maria Mauro said of him that his verses are drops that fall into the depths of feelings and as they fall they pierce even the hardest rock and become crystal clear and limpid like the sky and open up into the dear purity of the eternal.
He is a poet who has no precise rules, free verse, unique in his style, and in his ars poetica one can truly find everything, from dreams to the crudest reality, when reading his texts it is as if one is taken by the hand on a journey where the destination is always different, probing every edge of life and the human soul.
THE TAIL END OF SUMMER
a heart drawn in the sand
it’s a bit like a new dawn
this time my footsteps leave no prints
I find it all surreal
yesterday I spoke with the night porter
we smoked together
so many memories when you have white hair
summer is ending
this morning I woke up early
I walk as the sun rises
stretching its arms to rest them on the sea
the umbrellas are like soldiers at rest
everything is so perfect!
if I’m not mistaken, those are two kites
there is a paddleboat with deckchairs scattered around without bodies
gazes are hanging on a cloud
a man collects shells on the beach
it never ends!
I quicken my pace, hidden by buildings that bring the sunset
I do what I feel and I don’t feel anything
I am devoid of desires and to make sense of it all
I carry the stairs between one thought and another
once at the top
I move the hands of time
inviting three shells into my pocket
freeing my mind to the breath of a faint wind
and I am happy
THE MAGIC OF THE SILENCE
There are things in the silence
not enough to listen to them
they are things that are temples
memories for example.
Something left behind
and remained in the colors of a flower bed.
There are things in the silence
to live from our poetry
and surround my house with roses.
To say many more things
what words not to express
but to exist in our gestures
There are things in the silence
that our sky not to describe
even if he shows clouds of it,
a homeless man cloaked in stars
to revive eyes and skin.
Airborne notes
to recognize them as their own.
There are things in the silence
that a mountain would not be enough
nor the immensity of the ocean
inclused in a shell on the sand
thread of voice not to have anger
but only infinite sweetness.
There are things in the silence
to belong to a silent roar
where every being exists naked
and dress in sweet caresses
of white clothes
to believe they are certaintes.
There are things in the silence
it is a hanging tree
roots in the sky and crown of earth
sometimes greenhouse plant.
THE BROOM
my naked self
in a field of brooms
nothing beautiful
nothing ugly
I am a yellow flower
caressed by the wind
not a comment
the buzzing of bees
the earth teeming with life
they are the only voices I hear
no one complains
my petals don’t see
not even the clouds
I dance cuddled by the sun
that brings so much of that warmth
that only love can
only love
only love can
LOVE TO THE LIMIT
you’re there you don’t look at me I lost the mirror
I feel like a lost mountain without the sunset anymore
I no longer look for you in people’s eyes
to tell the truth, I don’t care anymore
the street seems like a house without a roof to me
where my feet walk walk
without knowing where to go
yet one day I found myself flying for you
a faded dream in an avenue where the trees were always the same
a speck of dust is enough to raise a mountain of words
certainly not of love
now I talk to the cat that comes near me
with a blade of grass that I might then trample on
and I don’t feel his pain
a house of cards that came down without a breath
but time is the same as the air that becomes stale
you don’t even know my shoe size
and you don’t know how much weight and patience I can carry
yet one day I found myself flying for you