𝚆𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 "𝙽𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢" 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍-𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚣𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.
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YAH ARTIST SINCE 2025
la ruga
Non voglio invecchiare irrigidendomi
in mille rughe profonde e spigolose.
Vorrei diventare sempre più smussata,
come una pietra immobile levigata
dall’azione del vento.
Vorrei che gli anni
mi togliessero ogni asperità
per giungere ad una rotonda perfezione.
Vorrei che il tempo mi donasse
la sua forma eterna, la sua fluidità.
la rabbia
Nel cuore si alza un fuoco distruttore
Arde più di cento roghi estivi
Consuma la mia fibra
Di fragile paglia
In un istante si è impossessato
Di anima e corpo insieme
Mi guida su sentieri illuminati di follia
Scintillanti di desideri senza meta
Ottenebra il giudizio, confonde i sensi,
Sfonda il recinto della mente
Incornando chi si trova di fronte
Come un toro, furioso di corrida
E rapido com’è arrivato mi abbandona
Pelle ed ossa, senza polpa
Annerita dal suo passaggio
E dalla sua ombra
the extremes
I am the soul crusher
I am death and despair
Cruelly aware of a world
I can’t abide
I am the joyous days
Of nothing-to-think-about
Of ingenuity and trust
And adrenaline-ridden hearts
I am both, I am none
Who am I is hard to say
Especially for me,
Especially in the extremes
raw feelings
I feel so raw
Like the branch of a tree
Stripped of its leaves
Ready for spring
I feel so raw
Like uncarved marble
Violently blown
Out of its cave
I feel so raw
Like exposed bone
And nerves and blood
Peaking through the flesh
I feel so raw
Like thunder and bolt
Sweeping the land
An echoing roar
I feel so raw
Vulnerable and tired
With faults and fury
Storming quiet
il mondo privato degli adulti
Profumo di pelle, penne
Dorate, scontrini, un burrocacao giallo
Spiccioli e un portamonete
La calcolatrice del cambio lire-euro
In plastica blu, dai tasti gommosi
Un foulard in seta consumato
Gli occhiali dal bordo tartaruga
Un delfino che regge le chiavi dell’auto
Un portafoglio gonfiato
Di tessere fedeltà al supermercato
E la tua mano
Dal pollice scavato
Logorato dall’ansia
Adorna di lentiggini e macchie solari
L’anello, solido e freddo
Sull’anulare lungo e senza smalto
Fa il paio con il tuo sorriso fermo
Le labbra serrate, due lame d’acciaio
solo
2024
Mostra di compleanno
banns
2024
machine dreams, scaldabagno
Una poesia molto cattolica, la tigre di carta
BIO
Anna Riti is a Milan-born writer and performer of poetry, whose production has developed since 2018 in both Italian and English. The recurring themes of her texts derive from the challenges posed by the management of her psychiatric condition (borderline personality disorder, BPD) in her relationship with others and with her own self. Frequent, therefore, is the reference to a world that every now and then appears as an enemy - but also to the therapeutic journey towards a more serene coexistence with one's condition. The author uses poetry as a means of translating the root causes and nuances of the changes in her moods into language the reader can understand - as well as herself, through the process of self-analysis that writing allows.
young art hunters association ets
via bramante 13 20154 milan
97890630151