JB, 2016
Silly or flat
contemplating my mind
Evil swarms all my me
it soaks me
Mercy on me!
Miserere mei Domine
January, 19th 2023
Tag Archives: prayer
Risen
An old photo by me, about those days. JB
Like a dead
a pale thing
You surrected me then
So I was born to love
Thus I beg
do it please
it again
January, 19th 2023
But time flows. So also 2023 passes
JB, 2019
Nothing else but convention, but time
always flows and I can feel it passing
in my withering flesh, in the faces
of those who are ahead and so distant
The year gone took again many people,
few were born and my hope is so thin
like wrong violet grown in some winter
shrunken soon in the grey of its cold
This my evil chokes me and this heart
weeps embracing the fog that pervades
every motion and gesture, each thing.
Even here you don’t take me so far….
A lewd thought rises, hugs, envelops
me as if I were sweetness and girl.
A crow flies in the air made as pond,
indistinct dullness, and now I groan
Wars and death, pain, dismay and so on
doze this jaded, weak self within me
who yet neither rests nor stays awake.
Wash away blasphemy: she advances!
December, 31st 2022
These grey days. 2022th Christmas.
My Christmas scene 2022, today. He will be there only in a few hours. Detail. JB.
A very strange Xmas, this one.
I pray above all for my daughter. Please, Jesus, come again!
Oh, I know you’ll be here again, as i know you’re still here.
Yet show us you. Show us the Beauty. Our beauty too. Please do it!
These grey days, this my grey,
this grey that enters us
paint, change it
into a blue hope, please, do!
That’s no peace but sad silence
Her eyes show gloomy sadness,
those eyes,
that were merry and beautiful and
that are beautiful now.
I see dismay and grey in her eyes.
You can change them by showing a path
These black days, this my black
This black that permeates days
paint it, change.
This black that smells as death,
death of those missed, those
that are too many now,
You can lighten with bright green of leaves
You are the light of a world that lost its
meaning during so cold winter night,
groping in useless gestures, grey ones:
so it learnt violence, wars
Get in touch again, now
I await for You, You
come for me, for her and
for everyone too: we are ghosts
of what You would like we can be. We
miss You. Come and light up all, please.
We are waiting for dawn
These grey days, this my grey,
this grey that enters us
paint it, change
otherwise useless passes,
winter of thrills and beauty.
Give us joy and bright colours
A very weird December, 24th 2022
Osmanthus
That one. JB.
I enjoy
both the lake and the scent that osmanthus
spreads around in the old garden’s evening
I enjoy gentle reds near the sunset
or when sky burns entirely in autumn
I enjoy
you at night, lying awake
when I feel lips and hands and your hair
touching me, shivering me, when I long
for you satisfy that love I feel
I enjoy.
There is beauty and good too in this world
that hides them between ugliness, profit
freezing them with so cold egotism
May Your lordship, my God, wake up us
October, 6th 2022
Long enough
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!
My crow cries
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
Xilocopa
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
Evil under the sky
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
Pink lake
JB, January 2022.
Pink lake: eutrophic space,
simply mirror of sunset
blue when blue is the sky,
grey when grey, pink when pink
Beauty is there a reflection of light
even Tindall or Rayleigh game, joke
it’s substance of another
it gives us sky as gift
Pink lake rests in the plain
waiting for evening, night
while the lights of Mankind
pale and shy slowly start
I’ve no Beauty to share
when I’m only myself,
selfish skin filled with
my things, thoughts and hopes too
Pink lakes force us to watch
higher, up to the Sky.
Let me be pink and thus
be a mirror of God
January, 19th 2022
The skin of the angels 