Before the time die

Photo by JB, 2017

 

Before the time die
rolling so fast each instant to the next
till it wastes itself and my green
become like straw far-back dried out
 

Before the time go over
like each thing in a breath of nothing,
as the light in the evening, when the night
leads everyone to moan about the Absence
 

Before the time die
hiding me and each thing in a distant past,
like an instant born already old
and so something grab me when I’m upset
 

Until my time begin as new flower
true yet elsewhere, eternal, as promised
I want to be for you love but so honest,
love that seek in you God, way and meaning

 

July, 18th 2017

 

Italian version

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Maybe the linden tree

 

I found that pic here

 

My dear friend Sharrow told me something about this stuff, so I changed something in it.

Thank you, Sharrow!

 

Maybe is this soft sweetness of linden
that spreads itself around in the air
into the already warm night of May

like strong wine which confuses my mind,
 

Maybe is this May sudden sun which
draws my linden out from the sleep where
I lay lazy, old and tired too
as I am a dry clod far from all
 

Maybe it’s this my spring that May slips
into me and so my blood again
boils renewed and alive. A tear melts
all my masks. Look at me: I am yours
 

I feel a deep peace into my womb
barren and running toward the nothing.
Now, please, move stronger me and push me
deeply to the way we are looking for
 

 

May, 28th 2017

 

Italian version

 

Previous version:

Maybe is this lime tree and its sweetness,
like strong wine which confuses my mind,
that spreads itself around in the air
into the already warm night of May
 

Maybe is this May sudden sun which
draws my lime out from the sleep where I
vegetate so old and tired too
as I am a dry clod far from all
 

Maybe it’s this my spring that May slips
into me and so my blood again
boils renewed and alive. A tear melts
all my masks. Look at me: I am yours
 

I feel a deep peace into my womb
barren and running toward the nothing.
Now, please, move stronger me and push me
deeply to the way we are looking for

I am faded

img_1765_web

photo by J.B., 2016

Now I’m faded as autumn brown leaf
after blushing with her last day's fire
after green, sun, wind, sky, free life style
now I’m faded,

                I’m autumn.
    
              Enough

seeing mirrors, enough seeing masks.
After needing to run I need peace,
slow long love days in which to be nice.
That’s my prayer and that’s what I ask

November, 15th 2016

 

Thank to my friends Leda and Lemonodo for their suggestions!

Italian version

Chiaroscuro (Dark and light)

img_2308

Photo by Judy Barton, 2011

 

Chiaroscuro every day moves forward,
as expression and moment, variation
of each life that soaks deeply my chest,
blind boost made by emotion and knowledge
 

I’m a lot of collected contraries,
lazy waiting or burning delirium
for each type of goods and rich vocation.
I am frost that the sun can well solve
 

Be now you to melt frost: here’s the dawn
of the white season closing each light,
every dark, every breath, everyone.
Dissolve scabs so the light could gush out

September, 21st 2016

 

Italian version

Blackbird

Photo from wikipedia

Privet fragrance floods me in the garden
sweet as a caress during the night
when I can find comfort and my flesh
feels relax and the spasm soon collaps

As a young blackbird my poor soul scampers
looking deeply in the life grass for something
that is precious and worth to live with.
I am caught by an odd happy peace

My skin shrivels and my legs lost their
strength together with their youthful pride
yet a new and strange hope now grows up.
I am lovely when I climb my anger

May, 29th 2016

 

Thank you dear Marina: I did not know this beautiful song. Fly, blackbird, fly!

Italian version

Tulips

Tulips 2

 

Seeing those tulips in a garden and remembering a silly jingle

 

Tulips burn in the new spring bright gardens
when the nature’s strong life is a show.
Two lips grow older almost without
any turgor and young juicy hopes

Two lips I need to kiss, to taste … touch.
Only your lips I wish to be me
to be us, and your heart to be alive
to feel deep in my being true sense

March, 7th 2016

Italian version

I get older

G.Klimt, The Three Ages of Woman

 

Now, today, it’s a day I get older,
when a year adds itself to the others
and I am till now here as a stranger
looking for space, for nods to my acts

Just today is a day I get older
and this year I pile up with the previous
and I cannot keep tight in my hands
concrete matter: my strength soon falls down

Yes: today I get suddenly older.
Only a few timid steps: only a hint
of a baby dream’s path, just a track
that I fail every day that I kill

So today is the day I get older
yet the next year I’ll say the same pain.
I am looking for you: squeeze my wrinkles.

I’m a growing old body, I’m in it

 

March, 14th 2016

 

Italian version