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I am

Antonio Dragossido

No matter if is a short story or a screenwriting, no matter if is a poetry or a book, no matter if is a post on my blog or a representation on the stage, because I can't stop to write.

"I am an AC power writer

trying to order shapeless words

in sequences of titillating hunger;

when my reader can be nourished

and twinkle like fireflies stars,

When he had enough of my art

can discover his emotions"

Antonio Gargiulo by www.dragossido.com

The hand of a man meets a woman

When the hand of a man
meets the roundness of a woman,
It is no longer the hand, but is transformed
in silk of the same silk,
in gold of the same gold,
in sweetness in the same sweetness,
in precious stones of the same preciousness...
And that moment is so sublime
that no words can define it,
no poetry can be enough
and even a whole encyclopedia
can define the heavenly feeling
of that precise moment...
of that precise instant...
in which the hand touches the woman.
And it is melting, it is lightning,
is flickering flames lit,
that frenetic dance,
flares up and become entangled.

Antonio Gargiulo by www.dragossido.com

My books

Copertina amore = love

Last contents

  • Il viaggio dei Gotulani


    This book is in Italian


    Titolo: Il viaggio dei Gotulani

    Autore: Antonio Gargiulo & Adriano Gotulani

    Collana: Narrativa Moderna

    Editore (libro): Seneca

    Editore (ebook): amazon.it - kindle editore

    Pagine: 248

    isbn: 978-88-6122-116-1

    ASIN: B0040JHV4U

    Prezzo Libro  € 19.00 Prezzo E-book € 9.15


    Per ordinare L'ebook su amazon... clicca qui


    Questo libro racconta l'eros senza mai cadere nelle volgarità e descrivendo il corpo femminile come un mondo fatto di montagne, valli, grotte e anfratti che l'uomo esplora con mani sapienti e guerrieri laboriosi. Attraverso questo linguaggio più delicato ed usando spesso dei puntini sospensivi che trasformano l'eros in un libro potenzialmente poetico, si vivrà un vero e proprio viaggio dall'eros soft, fino all'eros più trasgressivo, in un crescendo di aliti e palpiti, come un vento che man mano soffia più forte. Si vivrà una storia in prima persona in tutti i sensi, poiché è usato il presente in ogni azione e i protagonisti sono "Io" e "Tu". Ogni lettore maschile può essere l' "io" e ogni lettrice femminile può essere la "Tu" del racconto. La storia di un viaggio di nozze scritta per eccitare qualcuno, che a poco a poco prende una piega perversa e intricata, con personaggi ambigui che contribuiscono ad alimentare sempre di più i giochi che si interrompono però bruscamente...

    Per ordinare L'ebook su amazon... clicca qui

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  • A.M.O.R.E.


    This is my first book in italian


    Title: A.M.O.R.E. - Armonica Magia Ormai Reciproca Emozione

    Writer: Antonio Gargiulo

    Collection: Narrativa Italiana

    Publisher (book): Accademia Giuseppe Gioachino Belli

    Publisher (ebook): Lulu.com

    Pagine: 75

    isbn: 978-1-4092-1976-7

    ASIN: B003Y3BPUO

    Prezzo Libro € 12.00

    Prezzo Ebook € 10.69

    Order on amazon here

    Il libro è una raccolta di poesie, pensieri poetici ed articoli di carattere giornalistico. alcune delle opere contenute nello stesso, hanno partecipato e vinto a concorsi nazionali di letteratura.

    IX classificato al Concorso Internazionale di Libri


    Per ordinare su amazon clicca qui

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  • And she was on my bed


    I grabbed my laptop and I pressed the power button, when suddenly ... "I'm tired!" she said, sitting down on my bed and I'd look at her answer: "Why do not you lie a little, so that you rest!" It was not the first time that I advised him and this time I was expecting a no because she looked at me quizzically as he had always done.

    I added to my advice, again: "You know with me you can feel very peaceful ... I would not dream of doing something to a woman if she does not want to ... It is not my style and I think this rule it should apply to all men! "

    "All right, now I lie down!" and at that point I was looking at her quizzically as he removed his shoes and dazed watched recline on the bed, on my bed, on my bedspread and she had asked me: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

    "Which way?"

    "As a man in love!"

    "I'm not in love, because it would be impossible in such a short time, I am rather amazed, fascinated, enchanted by your beauty!" Smiled, then was covered with pareo burgundy on which there are turtles drawn in white that I use to adorn the bed with more imagination, then he turned on his stomach, with his head on the pillow facing left, with left leg bent on the side and one of the turtles was over right on the bottom.

    I could not resist and I said: "What a turtle!"

    "Why? Do you like turtles?"

    "Right now it really like so much! One in particular ..." He kept asking where was this turtle that I liked so much and I had decided to break off the conversation with a "Forget it!"

    He did not understand anything and I was back to writing on my laptop but now and my eyes so they returned to look at her, admiring the curves that had assumed the following pareo and outlining her curves; as a wave of the sea that covers a rock for stealing the contours and assume the forms, even the stuff seemed to steal its forms as a wind blowing floor almost to divenir form of enveloping caress.

    Marveled at the most beautiful creature that nature has invented, I knew that somewhere there was a person who could caress all that splendor slowly, slipping on the skin millimeter by millimeter and exploring that world of mountains, valleys, caves and ravines; he could do it as often as he would have liked; that could enjoy this paradise for hours and hours on end by stealing even hours to minutes to get them divenir hours and even hours, without stopping and instead confined to only a peck and a single cake icing that consisted of ten minutes maximum of sweat.

    There instead I saw a whole cake made of sponge cake, filled with cream with pieces of strawberries, cream and covered with so many cherries and fruits of all kinds that I would eat with calm enjoying every little piece of sponge cake, each single softness of the cream, every drop of cream and every single cell of the various cherries. I would stay there for hours and hours and hours even sensa be never satisfied and if they are a thousand other would like a thousand times a thousand, and even thousands, of a gluttonous greed feeding eating and the more you eat more diven greedy and hungry.

    Sussurrerei as the earth whispers to the moon, soffierei like a warm summer breeze and as the surf of the sea caressing the shore and the rocks alternating slow and fast movements, would move my hands in search of her ecstasy, until you get to the peak but without going over interromperei me to turn me into music.

    My kisses to mark the beating time and by vibrating the body as if it were a drum membrane, my hands to caress, rub and vibrate as the bow across the strings of the violin, my breath to blow soft hissing like a flute and my tongue to direct her to listen to the concert.

    Too bad that you can not because when he opened his eyes was approached me for a caress and she stopped me saying that I was not his type and that between us could never be anything more than a friendship.

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