She has been teaching English in Italian high schools since 1987.
She devoted herself to fiction, poetry and playwriting.
In 2005 she was ranked second in "Hanojo - via Rendevuo", a Vietnamese cultural competition for the millennial celebration of Hanoj (1010-2010). Moreover, she was ranked first/second/third in lots of literary competitions for her Italian poems (2006-2018).
She published a short novel, “Segreti” (“Secrets”, 2018). Besides, she published 5 collections of poems:”Sì shabby chic” (“So shabby chic”, 2018), "L’acqua opprime" (“Water oppresses”, 2016), “Fruttorto sperimentale” (“Experimental Food Forest”, 2016), "Latte & Limoni" (“Milk & Lemons”, 2014), "L’angoscia del pane" (“Bread is anguish”, 2010). Finally, She wrote "Tabelo" (“Table”, 2006), a play in Esperanto dealing with mobbing as a supreme artistic form.
Web site: www.annamariadallolio.it
Pass it forward
Master, you’re brimful of a strong passion
for humanity curiosity & truth
as I search for my fashion
explaining my youth.
Like my role model I help my classmate
every day you pass me your seed:
tenacity & wait
to study & succeed.
All the time you squeeze & squeeze …
stretching & strengthening
heart & sinews …
life will be challenging:
I’ll be independent like all these.
The Astronaut’s Dream
Last night I dreamt dreamt & dreamt
floating floating floating around
wading the wide wide universe
no more was the Earth encircled by confusion
stalked by war
raped by division
what I simple soul could see & hear
so different minds in total consensus
such various qualities in perfect identity
so complementary colours in total harmony
so many hearts beating in perfect unanimity
what I simple soul could barely think
all this clear homogeneousness
all this sheer oneness
all this definite sameness
is it not the reason for final union
for permanent indivisibility
is it not the best solution to so divided mankind?
All day I've cried, my mind is charred.
Who will keep me company now,
lull our child, I don't know how?
My life collapsed, the sun is scarred.
While I walk a sterile land,
rainbows are farther & farther,
rain is a real charmer:
no longer love holds my hand.
A way out? I know it’s well hidden.
I’ll really look deeply inside myself.
I’ll also call women like myself.
No longer be so loss-ridden.
To grief and tears we can find a patent,
something eternal, nothing but Art,
a way to melt a hardened heart,
so death will remain latent.