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.
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
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
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
The skin of the angels 