1st – West

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JB, March 2020

When I wrote this stuff I did not know that a war would have been in Ukraine.

This is the first part of a thought titled West – East.

There’s a world made by dreams and splendours
which grasp all moments stacking them useless,
where there is no more value nor meaning.
Through that world, through such world now I pass

I see strange landscapes and a thick mist
floating over each thing, fading it,
sticking itself to any place, forcing
each poor mind to gestures with no use

Without rules, Mankind sinks
in its ancient beast ‘s cravings
and love is right and rape,
like each thing, instinct’s wage

Without sense to run to, Mankind rules
have no value. Each soul
becomes weird; everything soon dries up.
Freedom turns to be slaves

December, 13th 2021

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

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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

Itch ‘n wish

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I got this photo here.

Well: this is Wish 2, (very!) less serious than the previous one. It’s only a play, a joke. Is it?. Please, refer to the pic to fully understand its title. LOL.

I wish to be wish
as a witch you can catch
in a wood, near that birch
which loves a hard, tall beech
while we can see a bitch
going fast to a beach

I’m emotions and skin, I’m an itch
and my body wants twitch
among your hands: bewitch
me.

My flesh is like a glitch
as an old broken kitsch.
Take me, fill my deep niche:
I want feel that sweet stitch.

You can make me to switch
so my joy grows so rich

Helpless, I’m part of us.
Don’t you let I unhitch

February, 18th 2022

Long-tailed Tit

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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

Wish

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JB, Elven Forest, today

When the night quickly comes like a ghost,
a dark velvet or silence, old veil
often bringing us pain memories …
I wish to be your wish and desire

When the moon rises so large and white
like a girl in love yet pure and chaste
and we feel to be such a poor thing …
I too wish to be wish and desire

When my purple spreads through all my neck
and my cheeks and elsewhere too
there where you want to touch my shy skin …
I must be your wish and your desire

When the fog deletes trees and each thing
in this world and we are like blind cats
without home, with no sense and no hope …
I want to be your wish and desire

When the death strikes so hard just near us
stealing from us what we need so much
and I shiver with fear and with cold …
I need to be your wish and desire

January, 1st 2022

My dear friend Terry made this beautiful photo after she read my words:

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Give me

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JB our nativity scene

Give me reward again in the night
when it’s dark and I hug you and my skin
waits for you like a poor parched pool
to find peace at least for only an instant

Making love, tremors fill all my flesh
shaking it in my chest, belly and
everywhere. So, I burn, sacrifice
to that life really mattering, true

Give me you, all you and not just some:
give me your hands and mouth. Your mind
be with me only one, only substance
to show that I can truly exist

Take me quite as I am, take my evil
and the good which I can: it’s so little.
I am as a well, hole, a basin, pool
restless and edgy shorn of its fullness

Give me your eyes and thus let me see
where you look at the end of each thing,
there where all starts and all can begin,
there where lives God who made us alive

Let I can grow again and hold up
this my body and my spirit, tired
after years of great sloth and great pride.

On my knees, near the crib, each thing is

December, 13th 2021

I’m that one

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JB, yesterday, after we made our nativity scene

 

I’m that one who now sleeps on the grass
near the heat of the fire freeing our
body and mind from cold thoughts
where so often each one can get lost

Both a shepherd or woman, doesn’t matter
we are the same deep down in our Mankind
strange and fickle and now very tired
fighting between emotions and reason

I’m that one and he sleeps near the warmth
of all common and usual safe things
I sleep while all the universe changes
while light and its true sense is being born

They say that the crib is from Benino’s (*)
dream and that he sees all our Earth
change its shape and substance and essence
up to be like a new paradise

Yet I’m that one who sleeps: I’m distracted
by my standard and permanent sloth
or by a sudden one that can reach
me just here while each thing resurrects

If You want, take me out from these weird
shadow days chasing gloomy solstices
while this cold rules all my queer odd world:
I’ll become what I am: only answer

 

December, 11th 2021

 

* Benino is a character of the Neapolitan nativity scene: he is the sleeper.

Italian version

Torn and thorns

 

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Pic found here, by Awentree

 

Torn
as an old worn white shirt
meeting thorns on its way
I am torn.
I’m bound, broken
and I’m naked and torn

Cold dry air hurts my skin
like ice breath from wastelands
Winter wins now my life.
I feel used up, worn.
I am torn

Thorns as bugs
bad black bugs
creep and crawl on my skin, tearing even
inside
where I’m torn.

Thoughts are thorns
scampering everywhere
as a frisk in my soul
to find what?
Pain and thorns

Come on, please,
come here soon
don’t let this advent be
sadness, cold, ripped skin
and soul torn.
Came on, please
be my whole

 

My home, December, 4th 2021

 

Now it’s cold

 

To my mom

 

Now it’s cold, here is cold
while we walk toward winter

 

Each thing cold where you walk toward were
I don’t’ know, you don’t know,
only hopes

 

Only hopes, holy thoughts, our faith
while you walk toward Him

 

I know that He loves you
so you will be together
with your husband: my dad
and your brothers, because
you are the latter

 

Now it’s cold, here is cold
while you walk toward winter
toward more light, maybe.
Toward more light: I’m sure

 

November, 20th 2021