Caterina Davinio (b. Maria Caterina Invidia, Italy, 1957) Graduated in Italian Literature at the University I of Rome “Sapienza”. She has published four novels, several award-winning books of poems, and non-fiction. She writes in Italian and English. She has edited some multilingual anthologies of international poets. Her poetry has been presented in international literary festivals, such as The International Poetry Festival of Medellín (Colombia), Oslopoesi (Norway), The International Poetry Festival Poetry Nights (Curtea de Argeș, Romania), VeneziaPoesia (Italy), E-Poetry (Buffalo, New York, and Barcelona, Spain), Polyphonix (Barcelona, and Paris), International Writer's Festival - Indore (India), and others. She has been one of the pioneers of digital poetry in the 90s, with hundreds of exhibitions in many countries, among them are several editions of the Venice Biennial, where she has collaborated also as a curator, the Biennials of Sydney, of Athens and the New Media Art Biennial of Mèrida (Mexico).
From: Serial Phenomenologies
and so it was going,
a little wind of senseless joy and of
heartfelt future past.
But finally our
creature of air was
Our perfect happiness was
And I said (it was for not saying)
And I viewed it livid at last
like the end of the world
like the forgiveness of all sins
and the tremendous certainty of being cowards.
rosary I pronounce you, long prayer
I recite death
in the crystal clear soul
like a cold diamond
lark voice, girl shout.
From: Waiting for the End of the World
Destiny was superb
it spoke among mountains and gray cumuli
like castles in the sky,
swollen with heat,
with infinite richness.
The valley and flourishing hills with hope
gave me life in the continuous death.
There were titillating notes of nostalgias and rivers,
we learned the past and the future
the night and its awakenings,
we were possessed
like Rimbaud in Hell.
We ask for mercy and gratitude.
Give me your expert hand of brother
and reverent knight,
render to me the services of occurrence,
Hell sweeps across the sky
and I am not afraid
of your tyrannies:
I am a hero too
as the clouds dull the air
and jeer the desert from above,
they are signs from above
disquieting the trembling earth
and extending below the horizon,
like a flattened land stuck in the vastness
for further incursions,
frowning triumphs, masks, abuses;
extinguish me, oh my fire,
I am your chosen one
the perfect sphere,
the crazy horse at full gallop,
the destiny, the wild beast.