Tommaso Iorco

CORONAVICIS

© 2021, Tommaso Iorco

Reserved literary property

First edition: April 2021

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I dedicate these verses to all true and sincerely disinterested dissidents.

And, in particular:

to S.I., chronic insubordinate,

my companion in life and in battles;

to those meager researchers, of every order and degree,

who do not allow themselves to be corrupted;

to all authentic artists, visionary messengers of beauty and truth.

While, in honor of the memory of Falcone and Borsellino,

I would like NOT to dedicate these verses to the current Italian magistrates,

nor - least of all - to their guarantor.

It's time for rebellion!

CORONAVICIS:

a poet's cry of protest, the cry of revolt of a heretic

— INTRODUCTION —

"For those like us, the price to pay for the advent of a world of Truth

 can never be higher than the compulsion to suffocate in a world of falsehoods."

S.I.

The verses contained in this collection were written during the house arrest (or, if you prefer, the lockdown) of 2020 and, subsequently, of the restrictions of 2021.

The title is a compound word made up of two Latin nouns: corona (gathering, alignment, garland, crown, circle around the sun) and vicis (change of fate, doom, danger, risk). Double meanings.

The concrete purpose - strenuously designed by a transnational financial clan - to establish a world dictatorship, awkwardly disguised under the pretext of a health emergency (the actual gravity of which still remains to be verified), is now under the eyes of all those who have the faculty to see.

On April 24, 2020, on the occasion of the centenary of Mère's definitive return alongside Sri Aurobindo, I had planned the debut of my latest play: Erik, an opera in five acts by Sri Aurobindo himself (www.eric.theater): a masterpiece dramatic of absolute beauty and truth (Trailer Erik). Forced segregation (lockdown) did not allow this. I postponed the debut until December 5 (70th anniversary of Sri Aurobindo's Mahasamadhi) and until the last I was anxious (in the end I decided to debut without spectators, as an act of protest: Erik debut) due to the fact that some nullity, wicked madmen suffering from a psychopathic delirium of omnipotence, from one day to the next they can decree free-killing blocks. It is an unacceptable and perverse abuse. Something that, on a global scale, had never happened before in the entire history of humanity. As for me, I am persuaded (to the point that no one can convince me otherwise) that they want to turn the entire planet into a concentration camp, based on control, terror, oppression and, last but not least, the decimation of the human population. world. Hitler and Stalin were amateurs by comparison!

How is it possible that there are so many sheep who do not notice anything? And if any of us dissidents (and there are highly qualified ones: scientists, journalists, doctors, philosophers, jurists, lawyers, virologists, world-renowned researchers) try to show them the truth of the facts, they do not even take it into consideration and we look how we had gone out of our minds! Is it possible that their lives are so steeped in falsehoods that they only give credit to the rumors of lies? Up to this point have they drunk their brains?

Sheep, yes! And I write it sorry to offend those nice (and mistreated, at least exploited) animals such as sheep. Whenever I leave the house, since this pseudo-pandemic started, I feel like I'm going to sleep - with the only difference that, instead of counting sheep to fall asleep, I count the sleeping sheep walking around in disguise (and that you they scowl if you don't wear a muzzle, as they proudly do, while until a few months earlier they were indignant at the imposition of the burqa). It's a real waking nightmare. It is said that a good shepherd is one who knows how to lead a whole flock of sheep, but in this case they are sheep who have chosen to follow executioners disguised as self-styled Guardians of the New World Order.

Too many, in fact, have been manipulated by decades of surreptitious and obscene actions hatched by a bunch of mass media operators completely devoid of dignity, in turn completely enslaved by cynical, perverse, bloodthirsty aspiring despots in their pathological mental insanity, fallen prey to the worst hybris. Education itself has been transformed for decades into a tool for learning a trade: humanistic contents are practically banned in classrooms of all levels (with, in the final addition, the very criminal "social distancing" from the very beginning. tender age, in school desks). Culture (and large publishing houses certainly have serious responsibilities in this regard) has been flattened to levels of demeaning and intolerable indecency, to inhibit its social function. The alleged artists, in particular, make me sick; a true artist is above all endowed with an infallible visionary ability (in some cases prescient) that allows him to perceive the subtle atmosphere at the local and sometimes terrestrial level, the opportunities and any existing (or imminent) risks, with all the responsibilities resulting from it. A human being who considers himself an artist and demonstrates that he does not have this innate faculty, is a vulgar charlatan or, at best, a victim of self-deception. It follows that all those bogus artists who proved unable to perceive (or denounce) the pestilential stench of rottenness during the global deception called COVID, are not artists at all and would do better to devote themselves to a completely different activity. Even the nonsense of some daddy's cuddly has reached my ears who, just because he has the means to be a monkey trained thanks to an undeserved surname, even threatened to slap anyone he met on the street without a mask. But go hide, scoundrel! Throughout history, true actors have always had the courage to unmask the maneuvers of bullies, sometimes at the risk of their own lives.

Shame on the theatrical hairpieces who abuse a name that does not belong to them. A true actor is, among other things, a warrior who fights lies. But to combat the lie, it is first of all necessary to know how to recognize it as such, rather than take it for truth (or pretend, out of lousy opportunism, not to see).

Has the history of fascism - with its hierarchs, brainwashing, batons and castor oil - taught anything? Shouldn't Stalinism, with its myriad informers, fill any human being with a minimum of empathy with shame and horror?

Several years ago I wrote the following hendecasyllable:

Talvolta mi vergogno d’esser uomo.

(L’Opera della fenice – 2004).

Sometimes I'm ashamed of being a man.

Well, since then things have gotten worse to the point of causing me to CHANGE OF SPECIES. I no longer have anything to do with "the human too human". I am now too far, on the way to something radically OTHER.

Last necessary clarification: I do not consider this collection as a real poetic collection at all (I did not even want to chisel the verses, exceptionally preferring to preserve the immediacy to the detriment of their possible perfection): it is rather an irrepressible cry in verses (in verse, mind you, not in poetry) against those hundreds of slimy, filthy, depraved, mean and unscrupulous characters - criminals are born - that make up the current world financial clique, and the mercenary army (armed with pen, syringe or weapon, as the case may be) of their cynical henchmen. Let them both be cursed!

Non appartengo alla vostra tribù

di rispettabili uomini in gabbia.

(L’Opera della fenice – ibid.)

I don't belong to your tribe

of respectable men in cages.

Tommaso Iorco