There is always a sunset

There is always a sunset, by

 

There is always a sunset because
each dawn sun rises higher again
to ensure that we are still alive
in this world made for us by you, Lord

Pain and joy are so close in this way
where we walk sometimes also with friends;
someone comes, someone goes far away…
someone dies… I remember each them

There is always a sunset; sometimes
it’s the death of each light: everyday
light arises then falls in that pit
bottomless where dark eats everything

Let me think to that long lasting night
without sun, northern, or even worse:
to that infinite dawn that aborts
without shining of full light: a failure

Maybe it’s a sort of dirty trick
where someone plays against us: a game
to confuse our poor minds with suns that
do not carry out their true purpose

Sometimes our life goes toward that dark
as if we were unable to do good
as if we were poor lives that escape
without beauty or love, without joy

I saw your so bright sunsets, so shining
filled with red and orange and blue
filled with joy, alive, artworks that
show us all that light that we all need

 

February, 28th 2021

Trusting border

Another Lanora painting! You can find her visiting her new blog, Atélie Kemi.

Well, that picture together with another post of a friend, Catherine, make me write this stuff… Sorry, I changed something in these words after my first version published…

 

It’s a dream perhaps, or else
it’s a nightmare, who can know?
Because evil and good can be
close and difference can seem
often light and little: slight

Maybe it is something like
a small glade among dark trees
magic space amongst old firs
there, where maidens go to sigh
while they think about their love
as I did.

There’s a shape near to the border
there’s a woman, I can think,
she’s a woman and I am sure
because that shape is myself.
She walks just near to the limit
of the glade in that odd dream
treading carefully since dreams
and nightmares can be so close

Trusting border of the truth
where we see this weird world
where we know each our step
easy walking even if
borders make us curious to
see and know what is beyond

It’s a dream perhaps, or else
it’s a nightmare, who can know?
It’s confused yet it’s clear
as my life and like my path.
Bloody red like warm thoughts are

Trusting border of both them
light and night and always twilight.
Good and evil, black and white,
so close self-mix, tangled knot
close and close, not solvable knot
and exactly we are that knot

 

February, 20th 2021

Passage of opportunity

Passage of opportunity, by Atélie Kemi

My friend Lanora let me find her paintings. I am really not into not figurative art, yet some of her works are really moving and full of colours. This is one of them. Thank you, Lanora.

 

There’s a bridge, somewhere, there in the sky.
When I’m happy and life is my friend
I can see it, bright red. It’s my way:
it’s a clear path and leads to your eyes

Someone says it’s a nonsense, weird bridge
that connects no land to nowhere place
because it seems to fly in the air
with no ground where it rises alone

There’s a bridge. It’s somewhere in the sky.
When I’m sad in a foggy grey world
I can imagine it, even when
I close my eyes I know it’s just there

Someone says it’s a coloured dream
and no more: silly, unuseful and without sense…
I know it exists so that my heart
may come to your one and to your God

So you painted that bridge, in the sky.
It’s my own and it’s there, as warm sign
into cold light blue tones. Yellow splash
like sun forces us to watch up, up to Heaven

February, 11th 2021

Blue primrose

Sorry for this bad photo, but it’s evening here

 

Blue primrose puzzled in climate trap
fought against frost and snow, still alive
in this rainy, gray and no cold day,
sharing colour as dark stifled smile

I’m like her in these so changing times
in this world I’m not able to know,
to understand as I did in the past.
In the winter sad garden I stay

Would you come again, frost of past days?
Would You come into me, to stay, God?
I’ve no bright colours, I’ve no green leaves.
In my winter sad garden I pray

 

February, 6th 2021

 

Frost soon came

Well, I know this is not a nice stuff. Anyway, please, consider that words left far from me for many time, from last Christmas. They do so, sometimes, and when it happens i miss them so much.

I hope I may have again words as before.

J.B.

Frost came, frost
                         later went
each day spent
                         leaves no trace

Sunlight shines
                       on white ice
it’s a lace
                       in my mind.

Like a blind
                     I go around
as a clown
                    or a ghost.

Frost soon came,
                   frost soon went
lazy days,
                  sad grey scent

January, 30th 2021

Now

 

This is from my 2020 nativity scene

 

Now He comes. He will come. He is coming.

Oh! He is here.

He is everything I need, everything each of us needs.

He wants  to be everything for everybody.

He is so, really so, really now, yet we are blind.

I ask him that my heart could know what my reason already knows, so that I culd live in peace.

I ask that also for my friends.

Merry Holy Christmas.

 

Italian version

 

 

It’s so silent

Giotto: The Nativity in the Scrovegni Chapel, Padua

pic from here

 

It’s so silent and strange without snow
without laughs and surprised children eyes
in this bad alien world that I know

For the first time I’ll be at my home
at my so usual home, nearly alone
like a day among days. Normal days

Maybe next Christmas will be the same
like all my past ones: a special day
exquisite food and wines in that house
where I lived so much before now

Maybe this virus forces to watch
at this birthday for what really it’s
not all that opulence we can have
but the day when the Saint saves all us

Gloria in excelsis Deo: Christ soon comes

 

 

December, 20th 2020

 

Fog erases

I’m sorry… I was not able to post this stuff last week end, as usual …

JB, 2009

 

Fog erases each thing with its nothing
made by silence and moisture and grey
along a way that leads to new Christmas
to new facts, to new hopes, to new life

I drive my car and I look for trees,
for signs or something that have a sense
anything I can see, recognize
to solve troubles and doubts, to go on

I miss white and pure snow in this cold
of an alien, strange winter, unknown.
Out some virus is spreading pain, death
Come soon my Lord with your holy kingdom


December, 14th 2020

This world is wearing thin

Well, a friend shared me some songs by these two women. Some of their texts are interesting and intriguing, as this one is.

There is no matter between this song an my silly stuff, except for my anaphora.

 

Snow came, went and Shakespears
Sister sings of insane
people laying, as dud

Is this world wearing thin?
Do you think of escape?

Snow has gone far from here
white now turns into rain
as earth alters to mud

Is this world wearing thin?
Do I think to escape?

This mad mud without blood
grows high, faster and sad
in dark winters so bad

This world is wearing thin
and I cannot escape

Each sound stops in my ear
silence turns into pain
Earth seems empty of buds

I see world wearing thin
with no place to escape

It’s a joke this my tier
made by words about drains
in which life disappears

I see world and I’m thin
yet it has not my scrape

 

December, 5th 2020

Pale Lady of the night

JB, November, 25th 2020

 

Tonight Mars is so close to the Lady
and he whispers to her his red words
maybe they are about love and war
maybe they are full of sandy thoughts

She wears shining white dresses, made by
white rocks that cannot know any wind
nor the sound of a voice, nor fresh rain.
All is lost in the middle of nowhere

From ages she is my pale Lady of nights,
cold and pure as a virgin alone.
She chose to live without any words
when Sun drove her away from day pomp

Her soul spreads throughout ocean of silence
without take care of women, of men.
She is merely idea, frozen word
useless concept: a stone in the sky

Tonight Mars is so close to my Lady
and he whispers to her red lost words
maybe they are about old-time passions
maybe they are just my sandy thoughts

 

November, 29th 2020