Monica Bellucci, oh how she glows, her beauty, like a rose in full bloom, grows ... poem by Stefano Donno

Monica Bellucci, oh how she glows,

Her beauty, like a rose in full bloom, grows.

With eyes that speak of passion and desire,

And lips that set our hearts on fire.

Her curves, so graceful, like a work of art,

A captivating presence that sets her apart.

She walks with poise and confidence so rare,

The essence of a woman, beyond compare.

From the silver screen to the fashion scene,

Her name echoes like a symphony serene.

A timeless beauty, with a grace so true,

Monica Bellucci, we all adore you.

In every role, she's an epitome of grace,

A muse, a siren, with a magnetic face.

Her beauty, a reflection of a timeless era,

An enchantress, who casts a spell so pure.

Oh, Monica Bellucci, you are a wonder,

Your beauty, a treasure, that we all ponder.

With every step, you light up the stage,

A living legend, that will forever engage.

Oh, Danko, a symbol of bravery ... poem by Stefano Donno

In a world of danger and deceit,

A man of justice walks the street,

With eyes of steel and heart of gold,

He fights for what is right and bold.

 

His name is Danko, a hero born,

In streets of Moscow, he's never torn,

His mission clear, his aim precise,

To take down crime, with all his might.

 

He battles through the cold and snow,

With courage that few can ever know,

With fists of fury, and a gun in hand,

He faces down the enemy, his will unband.

 

In Danko's eyes, we see the fire,

The passion that fuels his desire,

To bring to justice those who do wrong,

And protect the innocent, all along.

 

Oh, Danko, a symbol of bravery,

A beacon of hope in a world of depravity,

Your spirit alive, your legacy strong,

Your name forever remembered in song.

 

 

Oh, Greta Garbo, mystery untold ... poem by Stefano Donno

Oh, Greta Garbo, mystery untold,

A beauty that transcends time and mold,

Your eyes hold secrets that none can see,

Your allure a veil of enigma to me.

 

In silver screens you bewitched the world,

A goddess of grace, your image unfurled,

The way you moved, a dance of grace,

A lasting memory of your radiant face.

 

You were the queen of silent film,

Your talent undeniable, your spirit still,

Your presence magnetic, your voice rare,

A legend of cinema, beyond compare.

 

Oh, Greta Garbo, you captivate,

A star that shines, a memory that elates,

Your legacy lives on, forever bold,

A timeless beauty, forever told.

 

 

A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors: poetry in blood! poem by Stefano Donno

The darkness falls, the night draws near,

And in our dreams, we face our fear,

For Freddy Krueger's on the prowl,

His razor glove, a deadly howl.

 

But in this world, the children fight,

With powers gained from dreams at night,

A force of will to push away,

The demon's grasp, and make him pay.

 

The Dream Warriors, young and strong,

Against the evil, they belong,

With every thought and every breath,

They battle on, defying death.

 

For in their dreams, they find a way,

To turn the tables and to sway,

The balance of this deadly game,

And make the monster scream in shame.

 

With love and courage, strength and will,

They face their nightmares, dark and chill,

And in the end, they claim the prize,

Their freedom, won through sacrifice.

 

A Nightmare on Elm Street 3,

A tale of horror, yet so free,

For in this story, we can see,

That even in our dreams, we're free.

 

 

Quentin Tarantino, a name so grand, an artist who defies the bland ... poem by Stefano Donno

A world of violence and deceit,

Where guns and blades and blood do meet,

A place where justice is but a dream,

And nothing is quite as it seems.

 

In every frame a story told,

Of broken hearts and souls so cold,

Of vengeful men with twisted minds,

And women strong, with hidden finds.

 

The dialogue, so sharp and sly,

It cuts through every alibi,

Revealing truths and lies alike,

And making wrongs seem almost right.

 

From Pulp Fiction to Kill Bill,

A cinematic thrill to thrill,

A mastermind of art and craft,

His vision, unique and unmatched.

 

Quentin Tarantino, a name so grand,

An artist who defies the bland,

He takes us on a journey wild,

A ride that leaves us reconciled.

 

For in his world, we learn to see,

The darkness that lies within thee,

And with each tale that he unfolds,

We find ourselves both brave and bold.

 

 

Evil Dead 2 ... a book of the dead! poem by Stefano Donno

A cabin in the woods, so quiet and serene,

But little do they know, what they'll soon glean,

A book of the dead, bound in human flesh,

Its power so dark, it's better left fresh.

 

Ash and his friends, seeking a weekend of fun,

Unleash an evil force, that cannot be undone,

A cursed land, where demons reign,

And only the brave, can hope to remain.

 

As the night wears on, the terror begins,

The dead arise, and their hunger never thins,

Ash fights for his life, with a chainsaw and gun,

But the evil keeps coming, one by one.

 

The madness ensues, with humor and gore,

As Ash battles demons, and so much more,

The laughs and screams, come in equal measure,

As the forces of evil, continue to pressure.

 

In the end, Ash stands tall, victorious and strong,

But the nightmare still lingers, in his heart for so long,

A legend is born, in this horror flick of dread,

Evil Dead 2, forever alive, in the minds of the undead.