Castiglioncello, Tuscany, JB. July 2022. It’s that Athel tamarisk broken and reborn
Tamarisk grows back again; I turn
often off useless days trying to making
Now fatigue melts away and now peace
takes more space from the torment of maybe,
always shadow of “I do” and “I can’t”.
Nothing is enough when there’s no substance
July, 5th 2022
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
JB 2021, that day, bridge to Milegna
The stream gurgles fresh things, song of water
running down draining hornblende crystals
that are dark, black and blacker than places
where I plunge my poor mind every night
I smoke and I enjoy the sun lying
as a lover, down, on the green grass.
While I rest in the shade I remember
a spring gushing from stone: it’s like ice
Today rain’s water kissed my hair
imbuing me everywhere, flowing through
all my neck and my shoulders and back.
Even that rain was a tender lover
So I walked there, my steps were sure,
I went towards soft clouds, higher up.
I found my muscles warm, strong again.
I feel life rise again and it’s great
Casa Faé, August, 2nd 2021
P.S.: I know that “to gurgle” is intransitive: it’s so also in Italian language. Yet I really wish to write what I wrote. Sorry.
JB 2021, that day, there
This was the beginning of my last holidays
Beech trees show pitch-black foliage today
and smooth shiny trunks like marble columns.
The rain falls softly everywhere,
relief of each wild beautiful green
A dark gap leads into the woods, where
coolness thickens grey ghosts
that a breeze gently frays.
They are spirits of mine, from far years
I was young and perhaps I was cuter
and more nervous in my stronger muscles
I pursued my pride running so fast
and both silent, and wild and so foolish
Well, I’m here, and my holidays starts,
while my mind is erasing all frills
that make hard each the days of my year.
I am free and dissolve in the air
Also larches turn soft and thin branches
towards the ground and I indulge them,
so I lay my arms beside my hips.
I breathe water and air and feel good
Casa Faé, August, 1st 2021
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
That rose, by me
There’s a rose, a new rose in my garden
she just bloomed, she’s pretty
almost like a small sun, like a drop
of its warm yellow light. She’s a rose
Today I saw a rose in my garden
she’s a rose with a flower, no more
as a lonely explosion of grace
without excess of crowds. She’s a rose
So I planted a rose in my garden.
May gave her light and warmth
and the colour of a shining dawn.
I don’t bring up her, she does live. The rose
June, 5th 2021
That evening, by me
I’m relaxing
After silly bad things, after evil and sins
after days of strong work
In the evening
after shining of sun, after wet heat and dun
pale skies like an artwork
I’m relaxing
For so long and so far I awaited for spring
now she paints all with green
Now it’s evening
A soft breeze slowly strokes honeysuckles
bumblebees seem to chuckle
And my mind smiles, in peace, about files
no more scary
Like a faery
in the evening, when air smells of green clary
I’m relaxing
May, 29th 2021
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
This is from my 2020 nativity scene
Now He comes. He will come. He is coming.
Oh! He is here.
He is everything I need, everything each of us needs.
He wants to be everything for everybody.
He is so, really so, really now, yet we are blind.
I ask him that my heart could know what my reason already knows, so that I culd live in peace.
I ask that also for my friends.
Merry Holy Christmas.
I’m so confused… I know that my English is very bad, yet I cannot stop to try it.
Well … I try again… and thanks to my friend Bonchance Longfall for his suggestions
Claemp, that day. Photo by JB, 2020
She drinks happily laughing the sunlight
under blue sky: the green grass of Claemp
Light imbues every clump, stem and leaf
so she shines: it’s the green grass of Claemp
Meadows sing Life and breeze is a caress
as a cuddle on green grass of Claemp
There’s a Beauty surrounded by mountains
she’s alive and she’s green grass of Claemp
Here I smile and again find the power
of the life in the green grass of Claemp
There is silence and peace and that fills
all my heart among green grass of Claemp
Here you are and God too watches us
while we sit on the green grass of Claemp
Claemp, Brenta Dolomites
August, 5th 2020
The skin of the angels 