History Lesson 2030 by Gian Giuliani

Mommy, mommy, mommy, who was Hitler and how many people did he kill?
…..He was a tyrant dear.
…..He wanted to create a super race
…..He killed over eleven million people.
Couldn’t they simply get rid of him?
…..They tried dear, but they left it too late.

Mommy, mommy, mommy, who was Stalin and how many people did he kill?
…..He was a tyrant dear.
…..A big dictator and he wanted to be obeyed
…..He killed over twenty million people.
Couldn’t they simply get rid of him?
…..They tried dear, but they left it too late.

Mommy, mommy, mommy, who was Trump and how many people did he kill?
…..He was a tyrant dear.
…..He wanted to make America great again but forgot that even Americans live on this planet and
…..Breathe the same air as all the other earthlings.
But how many people did he kill?
…..We are still counting dear.
Couldn’t they simply get rid of him?

The Hungry Earth by Gian Giuliani

The hungry earth awaits my tomb
A gawping mouth on this mound’s womb
Since birth my race and place of rest
Save those who think that they know best

The chosen point in time and space
A destiny of rags and lace
The hungry jaws now split apart
And suck my life and beating heart

Confounded earth feed your greed!
Fulfill your wanton every need!

Perchance you spare this life’s desire
And let fly free with wings of fire
I’ll fill your crib with earth and stones
And walk my flesh and blood and bones.

The Winds of Change by Gian Giuliani

The winds of change I feel them here
With monotone sounds of chiming bells
With smells of withered daffodils
The drought descends the deepest wells

The crimpled skin the shrivelled flower
The fly that stole your deepest sleep
From death to dust the earth devours
And in its cradle all will keep

My Daddy by Gian Giuliani

Violent he was not
On the contrary
He loved his children more than you could imagine
Mama was pleased not to have to do everything herself in the house
Her day job and keeping the house in order was much too much for her these days
Mama couldn’t possibly have known the things that went on at bedtime
Not really

Mama often wondered if her husband really loved her
He didn’t seem to be interested in her any more
Physically that is

How jealous mama would be if she knew
That is what daddy told his daughter Elvira!

Elvira loved her daddy too in her own way
Even more so when she noticed he was looking at her little sister now
In the same way he looked at Elvira two years before
She noticed daddy’s eyes following her sister’s tiny footsteps when she climbed the stairs

Elvira started offering herself to protect her younger sister
I love you daddy!  Don’t you want me tonight daddy?
All Elvira could think of was

Putting the children to bed was not mama’s job
This job was far too important
In any case
Mamas can’t do this job
Can they?

The Interview by Gian Giuliani



He said

As his legs inched closer to hers


His left knee brushed against her outer thigh



His heavy breathing revealed an abundance of spices and

Strong wine


A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and rested tentatively on the edge of his eyebrow

The Student by Gian Giuliani

The projectile of innocence released from the cold metal shell
Burst into life through the rifled barrel of fate
Thoughtlessly obeying its masters orders
Penetrated the freshly ironed crimson blouse which clung lightly to her skin
She screams her final scream
The journey commences through her young flesh
Crashing her spinal cord in half
Bursting through lightly filled intestines
Of expertly chewed dandelion leaves and nettles
They spew out onto the floor mixed with a sauce of fresh blood ready for the stray dogs to lap up
Know your place girl!  You had no right to learn.

The Matador at No 10 by Gian Giuliani

The arena was set the bull was in the ring
Elated spectators cheered the matador to win
His traje de luces was blinding but necessary
They came to see blood

Teasing the life condemning to death
Thrust the first sword through the NHS
Keeled over now on its knees
They were thirsty for blood

Who’s next?  said the matador in No. 10
My “party” has only just begun

Death IS by Gian Giuliani

Across the waters riding on waves
Came a haunting sound
Of ringing chiming bells
A clutter of notes
Without order
Without identity
Marching on uninvited
With an almost urgent desire to be noticed
To be louder than the previous
To linger longer than the next
To carry the message
‘IS’ is death

When Night Falls by Gian Giuliani

They called themselves IS
When dust settles and silence
A rhythmical nothingness engulfs the self
Thousands of years of beauty now rubble
Destruction prevails
They have won!

When I die my flesh and blood will be no more than a weltered dandelion
When ignorant vandals destroy things of beauty
We have lost

Night becomes us for we do nothing
Blank face black hood cold skin black cloak
The clouds move west with great force
Still our government wears blinders

Sharp winds long shadows hard sting hollow nights
Abandoned and betrayed
Must we bow to IS?
Must we fall to the lowest common denominator?
Where is my protector?

Terremoto a Nepal by Gian Giuliani

Il bimbo giocava palline con mani insanguinate
l’odore della morte
Non poteva respirare
Trovare un cadaver
Poi un altro e un altro
Estrare gli occhi colorati che gli servano per giocare
Domani mi salvano cosi ha detto ieri


The madness is lost in the translation…but here goes anyway (more or less)

The child played marbles with bloody hands
The smell of death all around
He couldn’t breathe
Search for new cadavers
And another and another
Extract the colourful eyes to play with
Tomorrow I’ll be saved that’s what he said yesterday

Butterfly by Gian Giuliani


Where were you
With wings so fair
You fluttered by in synchronized symmetry
Triggered my last sense
A solitary glimpse
A visual fantasy
A virtual symphony

With a pin through your heart I will grant immortality
Death you will surpass
And part with vanity
To flirt with idleness
Where were you

The Forgotten Twelve off the Shores of Lampedusa by Gian Giuliani

On burning sand in war torn lands
They wait for boats to cross the seas
Caressing waves with light white foam
That separates the flesh from bone

With heavy heart they make this choice
With cries of shrouded fumbled voice

Look! I see land within our reach
Get on your knees and Preach! Preach! Preach!
The twelve that sang the lords poem
Now feed the fish that once fed them

The Radio by Gian Giuliani

I’ve left it too late I simply can’t decide
Is it too revealing too high above the knee
Turn off that noise they’ll be here in ten minutes this is serious
If they’ve already seen me in this frock I will never ever forgive you

Three by Gian Giuliani

They say that things come in three
Blind mice, monkeys, stooges, card games
Musketeers, degrees
Even crowds come in three
Busses run in threes after 6.30pm
Luck!  Good or bad.
Mustn?t forget the lottery ticket!
The most you ever get right is three.
Everybody knows it?s a fix
Still we hope

Grandfathers on the other hand
I only have two.
The first recounted gruesome grave stories
Of the Great War
The other told me of near misses
He had in WWII

I sleep badly these days
And often catch the three a.m. news on TV
So much destruction
Is this WWIII and nobody has informed me?
What story will I tell?
Am I grandfather three to be?