Miracle of reality

Miracle of reality

Miracle of reality, by AtélieKemi

Who can say
what will be after dark
when the light will come, if
it will be?

Night is realm of dreams and black shadows
where eyes are not allowed to help
us to see the world, people and things
as they are, not supposed to be

You splash some colour on the blank sheet
here so that now I can see somewhat,
something, someone, a body, yourself
to rise when world begins to exist

Light is a true miracle when sun
once more raises and reality explodes
forcing us to wake up, to be alive
to be what we are born to become

Something red, maybe skin, blood… a face
comes out from fable, feeble, flat blue
texture, maybe ocean of dreams
and green spots maybe grass or tree leaves

That’s a shock, each time when our eyes
open asking us this: What the hell happens now?
Why God wants us alive, still alive
after each night of darkness and dreams?

A soul grows, raises up, that’s a face
and it expands itself to take place
in the world, to find and fill each field
with its knowledge to be fully alive

That’s miracle of reality, yes!
when real world, with all its solid things
comes to us, again, and that’s new dawn:
shoddy things become beauty, life, warmth

And you rise and you grow and I too
to explore each space there, to be close
to each friend we’ll meet here in this day
to each thing shaped by light once more

We now say
what will be after dark
because light will come here:
It will be!

SL, Amazing Love, May, 4th 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 maybe
it’s a nightmare and no one can know
because evil and good can be close
so their difference
now and again
seems light and slight too and
little thing

Maybe it’s
something like a small glade
among dark forest trees in the North
magic space amongst old tough dim firs
there,
where maidens go to sigh
while
they think about their love
as I did.

There’s a shape near to the border,
yes there
it’s a woman maybe, I can think.
She’s a woman, there, and I am sure
because that shape is not but myself.
She walks just near to the limit of
the glade placed into that odd dream
she treads carefully since dreams and both
nightmares can be so close
anyway

Trusting border of truth
where we see
this weird world,
where we know each right step,
easily walking there, into a safe line
yet where borders so often make us
curious creatures and wish
to see and know what is further beyond

It’s a dream perhaps,
or else maybe
it’s a nightmare and no one can know.
It’s confused
however it’s clear
as my life is and like my path too.
Bloody red like warm thoughts are still
there

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

February, 20th 2021

Today (May, 7th 2021) I updated my stuff above according to my dear friend Leda suggestions.

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

Mother Goose

Better to go there to see this pic. Judy (Mitla) is the cat girl on the right.

This my puppet in a dream
behaves as a silly cat.
Are you sure am I just so?
My words freshen what we are

I’m a puppet of the fate
when I trek alone and think
that I can own my true lot.
My words twist so what we are

I’m a puppet into a stream,
a fast flow that swamps each thing
without sense or reason so
my words try to show my aims

Also a puppet becomes free
from her ropes when knees before
Who created her with love.
My words look for what we are

SL, Milk Wood, September, 12nd-October, 3rd 2020

I breathe peace

JB, 2020

 

I breathe peace in this sunset
among ivies, periwinkles and shadows.
I’m my smoke and I melt in the air …
who knows where evening’s breeze will take me

Instinct wind often overwhelmed my
heart and limbs and skin and reason too
toward far, dark and stranger landscapes.
I need order; in the evening
                                            it comes

 

April, 5th 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

Like a shadow

 

Like a shadow I slip into nights
where I find dreams and nightmares and cats
lovely and wild, independent and black,
cute sweet girls making love and romance

I’m my shadow when slip into nights
without sense except feeling me good
without sobs, troubles and true life’s thoughts
yet I’m human, so my soul finds me

I’m not shadow, I wish sun and spring
no dream is better than my real life
when my Love hugs me thus God is here
and I pray “My Lord, please, save me now!

 

April, 19th 2020

See also this one, maybe the same, maybe not

When I regret

Ruins into spring, JB  2016

 

To all my dearest SL friends

 

When I am what I was
I remember cold days
     I’m my regret.

When I see what I saw
into your so bright eyes
     I’m my regret.

When my sin like a claw
got myself on the raw
    I’m my regret.

When this dream turns to farce
falling down as stones, sparse
     I’m my regret.

When my life sudden sadness becomes
for no reason, indeed
     I’m my regret.

When my thoughts across screen
touch your skin
     I’m my regret.

When I get keepsake of
some young girls I met here
     I’m my regret.

Souvenir of weird puppet,
insane mind, silly words:
I’m that bitch, I bring them.
    Yes I’m regret and pain.

 

SL, March, 20th 2020