Sorry, I got no photo that day. This is the Sass Negher (Black Stone), a dark erratic of serpentine among pale limestone rocks. I got this pic here
Under a grey and so distant sky,
countryside in Brianza tries green
fields and meadows and groves, then the dark
and dull stain of the lake, of its water
I am the one grey and distant from skies
like a useless stone lost in a field:
an erratic that hopes its return
to the rock from which cold ice took it
May, 6th 2024
JB, 2024
Every mask is farce, a mimesis
that confuses, conceals and that hopes
to make better of what is true, real.
Every mask is a child of some evil
Every mask indeed leads to a nemesis
boasting shortcuts, indulging desire
but betraying true substance
as could do a spare path
For a long time thus I wore that my mask
playing myself in second life
flaunting a girl polite innocence.
Now I plead for my unity, fullness
May, 2nd 2024
This is an old photo I took when I was younger; that place was very important for me
Here again and I think of my life
under grey cloudy skies.
I miss friends, I lost friends
someone died, most now tracks other ways
Here again, if I think to my life
half asleep I see me in my twenties
under blue so deep skies
all the world is in front of me, indeed
Here, again. I consider my life
as I did nothing good really, now.
I lost days, I lost years, I lost love
Someone come, to give back me to me
April, 27th 2024
I took this pic in a Cica Ghost‘s installation
I was not able to translate into English these words better than so: here most of the original sound and rhytm is lost. I apologize. The expression “Lexical assonances” is without sense in the English version, so I used a Latin title, “Signum et somnium”, sign and dream. The word pun is better in Italian: “segno e sogno”.
Sign and dream: there’s a hiatus
where incongruous substance
loses facts, loses hopes
in the return of Fatus
Sign and dream as distances
where my mind easily misses
reality of this days.
Lexical assonances
Sign and dream: evident
degradation of urgencies
losing any my patience.
Now it’s dark and You are absent
So sign alters in dreams:
time full of each bad sloth
nourishment of sins, vices
and degrades my deep needs
April, 13th 2024
Again, like we do each time, me and my family painted our Easter eggs. My ones are only three of them.
I wish you peace and happiness in this Holy Easter.
JB
Time of colours, of flowers, of life
time when exploding buds show their power
all around to everybody, to me
to my soul often sad, without memory
Time of deep blue, the deeper of ever
time of sweet breeze that tickles my skin
while reminding that all is made new
and that also I can be new, free
Time to arise once again, without sins
time when God shows His power of Love
time when we betray and kill our Lord.
Once again Resurrection. For ever
Quoniam tu illuminas lucernam meam, Domine
Deus meus, illumina tenebras meas (from the Ambrosian liturgy)
March, 30th 2024
JB
In the still sleepy green countryside
delicate whiteness spreads itself, where
blossoms of the plum trees now awake
are a wonderful hymn to a new spring
Even poplars are reddening buds
yet they spread a light bitterness scent
maybe foretelling the brevity
of each thing so fast passing in time
I’ve some flowers but they are now scarce
and my buds have turgours of old age.
Don’t let I yearn for you in this bed:
this night I hug you tightly and so close
March, 19th 2024
San Gimignano, JB. Sorry for this so bad photo, yet it was almost raining
Stone and pride were to make them so high,
not as a cry toward that secret blue
but instead dare to strength in the world:
banner of wealth and glory. No more
Towers built so from both stones and pride
they are still soaring on cotto tiles,
marvel of houses and palaces too,
sundial measuring the ancient bloodline
Now my tower is steeped in the
time of past things so that often falters.
Pride remains, like pathetic remnant
of old sins and past strength and that’s all
February, 12rd 2024
Photo by me, that day, February, 17th 2024
Gorgeous wood, medieval golden gem
beautified and enriched through the years
and by thousands and thousands of looks
and both prayers and sighs and hopes too
Multitudes, men and women and children
came to you like I too now am here
to meet you and you appear unexpected
suddenly while one turns the transept
As a pilgrim or tourist I add
me to ones who came or come to you
you, religious memento or art thing
to consume among beauties in Florence.
March, 3rd 2024
The skin of the angels 