Pigeons

Milan, JB, that day

 

Also we spin around as these foolish
pigeons turning each dry thin twig
among waste baskets and passers-by,
pastime for every dog on its leash
 

Under me, under ground subway runs
it’s a tremor that riddles all things
as strange, obvious and widespread upset,
as neglected disorder that’s nothing
 

The alpha city is around everywhere
lost in so futile cares and distracted
of life left on vacation by people.
Pace is not this small bench in this park

 

Milan, Gregor Mendel Park, October, 30th 2018

Italian version

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If I can

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Some anemones still bloom within
their companions that dry any fruit
fitting so life and hope to this season
that decrees defeat and silence too

Also larch trees cry yellow leaves now
among leftovers of tired grass
aimed at signs of next winter start.
Maybe I too can bloom, if I can

 

Toward Col Portola, August, 24th 2018

 

Italian version

A sphere

Judy is entering a sphere

My friend Terry built a new art expo based on ten spheres in which several artists made their works. Each sphere is as little world and it is possible enter them. The opening of this expo will be on next September, 14th 2018.

In my worse silly mode I wrote this stuff about it.

What’s a sphere? an austere
cry to show we are alive,
a small box, often block
trapping smiles in this rock

What’s your sphere? A mystère
you don’t know, when sincere
look at your bloody heart
waiting for a restart

In my sphere I’m asleep
sad and bad and I creep
toward black hole that eats
what I want in my deep

Into a sphere we all live
without sky, love and light
as poor things that deprive
themselves of any fire

SL, Casvian Caye, September, 8th 2018

Italian version

Blue light

Photo by J.B., 2018

 

Blue light, she is reflected by water:
dragonfly turns around and the pool
is her whole universe so contracted.
She doesn’t know about Dolomites, there

I too go around, trapped days
of the norm that dulls every sense,
where I lose both Your world and Your Beauty
and I waste all my life and its meaning

Malga Valchestria (Brenta Dolomites), August 4th, 2018

Italian version

This wave

Photo by JB, 2018

 

I already know this wave, its side
toward me, toward returns to beach
firm and usual, full of all my going…
I beg You: take my ship away from its port.

 Give me a further that drown any pale
norm, a stagnant backwash, empty roaming
across all usual seasons and balance
that sleeps dreaming about silly itself

 Give me impulse to face the blue of
Your so distant clear sky and the night
of my confused heart, of my nothing.
Let me be like a life, like its bloom

 

July, 9th 2018

 

Italian version

Modest redstart

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Modest redstart watches me behind
old wisterias and then comes down here
on loose gravel where frisks looking something
at the ground as I too often do
 

I feel birds’ joy and freshness that chirps
in the clear and bright light of the day
while I smoke slowly thoughts in the shadow.
Just this moment is beautiful God

 

June, 15th 2018

 

Italian version

 

Dawn and sunset

 

Photo by JB, 2016

 

Maybe dawn can resolve any sunset,
vain world travel towards the main night
who wins us every day anyway,
like the nothing that dries up each thing
 

“Never” as well as “always” is not
nested word into mankind assets.
Someone else can define the absolute
and He lives it without a beginning
 

You elect me, my free jump provoking
as can water do running towards
fields that drink and give us their green life.
So I am if I belong to You
 

Beyond any idea, craving, wish
about what I believe and I can
You make me something possible, life.
Yes, You’re dawn that resolve sunset, night

 

Rimini, April, 20th 2018

 

Italian version