A naughty dream

b0e7a8ef328c4621b764271ad6ff5e06

Pic from the web … sorry I lost its link!

 

 

Show me now your pink crimson, your beauty
without silks or skin veils, without frills.
Your mouth know every inch of my body
firing up each thrill, shiver and spasm

Our chests grow as wishes, together
like wild needly young flesh waiting for
sister’s breath to confuse with, to mesh,
to mix close to be one and same feeling

Is this crazy dream evil, is sin?
When I’m sleeping I cannot control
my emotions and sweet senses that
upset a poor mind sometimes so empty

Our need is a violent passion
I’m a basin that asks to be filled,
that is seeking for a sister basin
where love could enter to solve desires

Is this just a bad dream? Is it worse?
Am I wearing wrong mind mask or else?
Maybe years ago was a mistaken
identity to cage me so I’m

So I play, heroin into novels,
and I think myself wrong and each night
I’m stuck into my novel I write:
that’s a new trap, a cage, that’s a lie

Is this weird and perverted world to
puzzle me like each people here, now.
It’s the realm of The Prince of the world
it’s a lie, it’s a dream, it’s a fake.

 

July, 11th 2021

Italian version

I’m my demon

 

I’m my demon

I am evil, I spread
my day following wish that can’t give
me light or to turn to happy my time.
Thus my time runs away… toward what?

When I entered the water of life
there was beauty of black hairs and strength,
there were soft lips and eyes so clean, bright
grey and green. There was hope

Now I’m leaving this sea where we swim.
No more soft, this my body dries up
yet lust and will to make love grows up.
I’m my demon, that horrible bitch

Yesterday is no more, with no sense
except sin: I awaited that skin
cuddled my face and chest and down there…
Don’t’ let me alone with my bad thoughts

Don’t let me alone or I’ll be sin

 

Sunday, November, 8th 2020

Nightwish

 

When I feel myself as a black witch
your warm skin is my usual night wish
making my body crazy and your lips
warm and sweet eat my flesh so I twitch

I’m full often of dirty night wish
when dark cloud ends so fast every day
covering hopes and too dreams and I’m selfish
like a baby child that needs to play

Black and angry like that so bad bitch
that scared Dante and tried to him slay,
my lust grows as alone and weird birch
to whip my weak soul dreams while I liey

Without hide every worry and grief
I lie down on my bed, I’m a wait.
You are what I need on this poor Earth,
you are my only beautiful
                                           night wish


SL, Galadriel Mirror,
January, 20th 2019-October,10th 2020

When I regret

Ruins into spring, JB  2016

 

To all my dearest SL friends

 

When I am what I was
I remember cold days
     I’m my regret.

When I see what I saw
into your so bright eyes
     I’m my regret.

When my sin like a claw
got myself on the raw
    I’m my regret.

When this dream turns to farce
falling down as stones, sparse
     I’m my regret.

When my life sudden sadness becomes
for no reason, indeed
     I’m my regret.

When my thoughts across screen
touch your skin
     I’m my regret.

When I get keepsake of
some young girls I met here
     I’m my regret.

Souvenir of weird puppet,
insane mind, silly words:
I’m that bitch, I bring them.
    Yes I’m regret and pain.

 

SL, March, 20th 2020

Third Advent week

Art by Terrygold – “Terry – Riflessi sul nero n.17_001”

 

So my hands punish harshly my pride
chasing thoughts and sin where my effort
falls helplessly, tonight, dying silently,
lost in cold nothingness everywhere

I’m not able, I can’t by myself
I can’t avoid to fall more and more:
that’s disease of our being few things,
as men or women: as each creature

We are falling down, into the solstice
full of pagan memories and impulse.
I deny you for perverse desires
but You come anyway, Child and God

 

December, 1st 2019

 

Italian version

Dead saint stones

JB, 2019

Dead saint stones. They were strong,
full of fervour and passionate faith,
now they stand again orderly and giant
witnesses of Church that lived before

Sleeping saint stones, now are as pale hearts
with no sense and distorted, reduced
simply to business chance or to a cue
for romantic dreams of old past artist

We are poor bad stones nightly when this
so rapacious world comes and grabs us
to confuse our mind turning it
into hip depraved conformism

We were Easter light stones in the past,
but as that rock stones we were sold to
the World Prince. Make us life again, Lord
that guide our way and the history

 

Abbaye de Fontfroide,

April, 23rd 2019

 

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

Italian version

There!

Photo by me: it was an almost rainy day; in the web we can see beautiful pic of this Abbey; the ones with lavender flowers are very spectacular, like this one:

(pic found there)

 

There! In this quiet valley a blossom
appears, sudden volute of stone
almost shy indeed strong and discreet,
so impressive, clean substance

It’s inside time and world, but outside,
severe dress of austere fullness and
limestone filled with faith and with quiet
silence marked with hardworking joy

Saints and martyrs and so troubled stories
that did no wipe out from this poor land
either flesh or its beautiful work.
Outside lavender waits for warm sun

Will we last? Maybe we will be alone
as short beating of wings, before instinct
of possession and claim takes all us?
God not make us as blasphemy or hitch

 

Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque

April, 22nd 2019

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

Italian version

Come with me

 

Come with me to the other side
of my soul. There are died
dreams made by sand and dried
thoughts and hopes from white brides

Come with me: I’ll be guide
to my heart and I’ll tie
my bad wishes together to cry
where dark sins fade at light

Come to see how much wide
is our love that we ride.
Like the sea rises tide
I’m with you and so pride …

SL, Galadriel’s Mirror, MiddleEarth
January, 13th 2019

Anyway

Pic from here

Anyway
If I think I am right
if I see black as white
If my night is a sigh
and I find not my site

Anyway
If I do not agree
and think that I could be
better me fully free
even if I am a flea

Anyway
when my life almost gone
lies like a bored swan
with no strength, without brawn
without joy and withdrawn

Anyway Easter comes
when You rise again. Does
anyone blind the shine
of the least single sun?

Anyway
You don’t need any pass
to save me from myself.
Let I be not impasse
to my way out, besides

Friday, 14 April 2017

Assassin bug

img_8022_web

On my table an assassin bug
goes around, takes a look:
surely a prey it is looking for, now.
It’s so nice yet a thin little monster
that kills

 
Warmer winters let it come here to me
from the south, as the sin
when it enters my mind like a shiver
coming from dark and bad earths of mist

 
when I kill every good in myself

 

November, 22nd 2016