Summer again

JB

 

Now is summer again, it is back
with its warmth and the wish to be close
and lay down and so listen to our
breaths and hearts running fast in the chest

Now it’s refreshing night; still a gentle
breeze softly cradles us and near me
the wisteria leaves so full of life
are a complex green lace in the shade

A dark moth looks for me in the darkness
she is following tastes while the pale
light of a yellow lamp catches her vague roaming
and traps her silent velvet

My mind sees you and your lovely thrill
during love, in the white of the bed
which holds us and hides us, where we are
two together yet only one soul

Also that invisible disease
now calms down due to warmth
and frees us from our worry, a bit.
See: so little can make us like dance

June, 19th 2021

Italian version

A white pain

Something soft, as grey mist
spreads across this small world
not like that red death mask
nor as black terror plague
sweetly it kills us now

I need eyes to watch in
I need hands to hold tight
I need friends to be close
I need love to be me

Something like a white pain
rides together with this
new weird virus and makes
mankind dull, forcing us
towards dreams

I need facts truly true
to be alive, to be far
from death innate in dreams
to be out
from that white without shape

Someone says that a man
resurrected by death
and He lives in his Church.

I decide to trust them
I need Christ who saves me
I need Him to change me
I need Him, to be me

Deep into
those clear eyes
I met Him
With those hands
He bears me
He was
is
in those friends

Unbelievable peace

April, 17th 2021

Lazarus’ Sunday

JB, now.

Well, I think it is very silly to share captions to some words, yet I must say that this is the first time I tag a stuff with coronavirus and apostasy too. My first time. I see a connection there and I must shout it.

Thank you Kristine for your contribution to open my eyes. Thank you. Be good.

 

This my dying vine sprouts
dry brown buds on wood branch
without lifeblood or hope
to be tender green leaves

There’s no more spring in mankind,
in this endless and soft feral feria
enveloping us in a pale stuff
where each thing becomes laziness

Lazarus also sleeps, still in silence,
bloodless and under white linen shrouds
waiting for life that is still suspended.
Anyway, all we are now death sick

I’m my dying vine with brown
sprouts that dry on branch wood
without lifeblood or hope
to be tender green leaves

First of all, it is not this disease
to bite life: it is sloth that fades us
like confused grey fog and cancels
every bud rush toward flowers burst

What I say is the world of rich’s evil,
sin of those who enjoy present-days,
even if dull, whilst deny salvation.
I am guilt like apostate is.

I am that dying vine and no sprout
I show but dry ones on my branch wood
They are without lifeblood nor they can
show a hope to be tender green leaves

 

March, 21st 2021

Italian version

It’s here spring

They, here, today, a few minutes ago

 

It’s here spring again, It’s here spring now
all my garden declares clearly that
with wild wide-awake flowers and bright
new green grass and a blackbird that skips

Also a plum tree had waked up early
and now sprouts it’s so many white buds.
Violets are a lot and they melt
themselves into fragrance in the breeze

It’s here spring again, it is now spring
wide awake flowers, farmed or wild
in my garden declare clearly that
and they’re violets, primroses,
                                                  hyacinths

Lent is running fast toward your Easter
it’s another strange one, without laughs,
among silenced roads, sirens, and
infinite vanity of the whole

It’s now spring again, anyway life
breaks as well nature stasis and mine.
Like a tulip I wait for a burst
of red petals: it’s your Easter, come!

 

 

March, 13th 2021

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

Broken promise

JB 2020: Summer end in my holiday

Like a broken promise time fast goes
often into nonsense, nowhere, night.
Summertime now is like a far dream
a strange tale without concrete, as mist

Summer suddenly falls in past days
painted by dark grey skies and by rain
like a mad or ill artist could paint
without happy hopes about her life

Sadness suddenly comes in my mind
like this virus that enters the life.
Autumn comes so and full of died days.
Where is just gone mankind strong control?

Without a clear cut path we are like
little ants running casually around.
Our buildings and works have no sense:
I need Someone’s else truth to be alive

October, 5th-10th 2020

Sunset floods

I’m trapped in my home, so I cannot share here a better photo…I’m sorry

 

Anyway, sunset still floods with peace
us and yellow light comes. A breeze breathes.
A joyful blackbird plays near me,
herald of infinite souvenirs

Yes, we live and we’ll live in this world
that forgives and maintains us.
I thank You, my kind Lord, Father Lord,
fill my nothing with deep and strong wish

 

April, 25th 2020

 

Italian version

 

 

 

Like a shadow 2

Maybe only a variation of this one

 

Sometimes I’m only my shadow, slipping
into dark and strange nights as a ghost
of myself, as a mask hiding me,
hiding my whole myself and my soul
above all in this silenced world

Yet I need higher go, towards sun
I wish slip into air till to be
in the blue so far sky and so fly
higher, faster and free from myself

 

April, 21st 2020

Italian version

The Hedge

Judy in a dreaming wood spring, sl, today

 

Beyond hedge is a garden and further
things I already know and don’t know.
World is changing out there, far away
and we’re caged, a long way from Time

That hedge forces my view here but I
know a lot about shadows of woods,
about hidden things, like two-leaf squill
and wind flowers, pure white just now there

Beyond hedge which is edge to my place
there’s a garden and farther some woods
that I don’t see yet I see and know
how they are when awake from their sleep

A hedge is border to all my world
but there is further gardens and woods
and beyond, towards east and its dawn
where sun rises there is Easter light

 

April, 4th 2020

Italian version