Long enough

 

dalla tangenziale MI, 21-9-2011 (3)-min

Around Milan, JB. September, 21st 2011

 

When there’s rain on the grass, from the sky,
and I shiver and watch that dark grey
thinking of sun and summer and light

Long enough is a day
so that I lose myself

When, alone, I sit there waiting for
something new, something else, something that
could change finally me and my life

Long enough is an hour
so that I could get wrong

When, again, as a flash
sudden thought hits my mind
making thrill all my flesh and my skin

Long enough is a second
so that I could fall down

When, at last, I see this older me
looking for better, more
looking for reasons, sense

Long enough is my life
so that You can save me

 

September, 18th 2022

 

Thank you so much Lizzie for your suggestion!

 

Day of nothing

 

IMG_1313-min

There, some years ago. JB, summer 2016

 

Finally, here’s a day of none, nothing
after a peaceful night made to sleep.
My head empties, and my body wilts
with each of its so tired old muscles

Yesterday I lost words, cause my flesh
needed everything to go up and up
and then wild and fast jumping downhill
it found again strength and knowledge

Today I’m watching my day go by
like it was really and actual vacation.
I can take a book to read a novel
I still hope and wait that Something happens

 

Faé House, September, 3rd 2022

 

Italian version

A fresh wind

 

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A Wind-Beaten Tree, by Vincent van Gogh (pic found here)

 

 

A fresh wind now arises from there,
far from me, far from my usual home
It tells me about days fully blue
far from these suffocating warm times

A cold breeze drags the leaves on those trees
reaching me on my tired sad face
while I seat on my stony terrace
watching at long gone days of young girls

A sweet breeze sweeps my mind and my soul
overcoming my thin older skin:
a pale box I fill with evil, sins.
They make me defile our plain love

A fresh wind comes from your other world
it says about our love, about God
I can see both us there, both us pure
I can see both us new, happy and free

 

September, 1st 2022

 

My crow cries

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Pic found here

My crow cries like did Poe one once shouting
nevermore
even if everything always happens:
life and death, love and pain, hate and joy
run together

A gull flies printing its shadow fast
on this Earth where we stand up like dreaming
while I confuse to do, to be, sleeping,
to find shivers of love on my skin

Save me, oh!
Free me now, again, free me now Lord
watch at my ill poor weak troubled mind
see the flesh You gave me as weird gift…
Please consider how much I’m poor thing

Give me each thing I need, that is love,
that is knowledge to be safe, that’s peace

Castiglioncello, July, 6th 2022

Pentecost strong wind

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Pic from here

This strong wind now is ruffling
each leaf of any tree and sweeps up
my hair too. There’s a wave
made by freshness that strikes all my world

You are strong wind perturbing
every day my life and you sweep up
my sad being. You’re a wave
made by sweetness, comforting my world

Like a strong wind you’re ruffling
every leaf, every day and replace
my thoughts too. Your sweet wave
moves to love: you’re my world

But your strong wind is thinning
days and things to themselves and trips up
my conscience. Be a wave
again, go toward God and his world

You, my strong wind, don’t take
each aspect of my life, so please break
this my evil and be you the wave
that directs my old keel the world

June, 4th 2022

Italian version

Eros

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Paint by Stefania Nicolini

I feel softness and urge takes my chest,
need to see your skin and to touch you
without fabric in between; dismay
into your gloomy eyes could calm down

I still crave love from you and your flesh
even modest I want lead to tense
up to a powerful shiver; your hands
come onto me, to frisk me everywhere

I am yours. Without veils I await
you, your lips cover through all the body
I give you. You drive me to that spasm
I yearn for, so maybe anguish breaks

My breast gives itself to you as well
my mouth and my round navel and my
narrow hole that makes female your wife.
You fill sweetness with love

We came to our evening, yet I
want you as when I gave myself to
you first time and we were really one:
body, soul, eyes and I was twenty

My first embrace was clumsy because
inexpert, we discovered flesh.
Our life then mutated its course.
Bring me to God again: I love you

Give me peace, restore me again, more;
I’m more wrinkled respect at that time
but expert. Love gasp takes me indeed;
You give me only each thing and we

will be concert

May, 29th 2022

Italian version

Xilocopa

DSCN1936-min

Photo by me: that wistaria

Like solitary bee or a moth
that confuses her nights with each day,
anyway always greedy for scent,
my thought flies over wisteria flowers

My thought points itself as in racemes
on my wisteria hanging to ground,
drags me and it’s a so heavy thought
that would like to soar toward Your sky

Give peace and a more lively warmth
to my evanescent heavy flower
that’s a pale mirror to the deep sky
and, please, a clearer life
                                        and substance

May, 17th 2022

Italian version

I see

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JB, February 2020

I see turgors in grass in my garden
waiting for spring and their life explosion
I see lizards enjoying firsts warm suns
stretching bodies to taste their new lives

I see bees looking for early flowers
to prepare their next lives at this time
after winter’s blind darkness. Sleep. Cold.
I see nature that wants to be alive

I feel turgors in my lazy soul
I see tulips now ready to burst.
My two lips are so dried after winter
with no flesh love. I’m puzzled again

I see wars also in Europe where we
lost real freedom denying view of truth
looking for power, money. Nonsenses.
Where messiahs are now kings so proud. Fakes.

I see mankind so weak, I see sins
everywhere, in my soul, in each one.
Our fight against faith brought those fruits
under so lovely blue deep nice skies

I see people alone in their cages
built by evil and alien bad strengths
against peace, Beauty, sense. Against God.
After this so long Lent we need more

February, 28th 2022

Evil under the sky

IMG_0048-min

JB, February 2020

I wrote this stuff before the Ukraine war.

I know that evil begins into myself. It’s really not only a Putin problem.

February gives us longer days, gifts
when skies sink into a so deep rich blue
up there. Nothing dirties them now, anymore.
The wind blows away all smoke and sadness

God, how beautiful made your sky; February
today shares a so clear sun, a yellow
and alive party. Hug and relief.
May light win each night and bitterness

A whirlwind of air is a momentum,
shakes the cedar green from lazy sleep
of the immovable instants of winter.
Like that cedar, please solve my tiredness

It seems strange that could evil exist
pervasive, effective and so constant
under such a pure, beautiful sky.
Please God turn into strength each my weakness

February, 21st 2022

Italian version

Long-tailed Tit

codibugnolo2b22bbis

I got this photo here.

Four Long-tailed Tits come here to rest
only a little on my Judas tree.
They are gentle and tiny, also fun
and like children are happy to live

Each Long-tailed Tit I see on my
Judas tree did survive to the cold
of the winter and now seeks for food.
They already feel spring on the air

As a Long-tailed Tit I wait for
better times hoping I could see them
after this winter where I now live.
I feel cold into my sad poor soul

Like a Long-tailed Tit I’m so frail
into my deep substance. I feel old.
I saw winters and springs many times
yet I’m waiting again for One. God.

February, 10th 2022