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
May, 17th 2022
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
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
Maybe only a variation of this one
Sometimes I’m only my shadow, slipping
into dark and strange nights as a ghost
of myself, as a mask hiding me,
hiding my whole myself and my soul
above all in this silenced world
Yet I need higher go, towards sun
I wish slip into air till to be
in the blue so far sky and so fly
higher, faster and free from myself
April, 21st 2020
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
Photo by J.B.
So the sky becomes something not true
to the mind, unreal, rush of fire and
bright blood, trapped into the deep blue,
braided clouds stretched out by the wind
That light is stranger, alien and like
evil does, it charms and changes us,
while we are here, parked in our world,
making false landscapes, colours and sights
All the earth is now yellow, then red
when it darkens, going fast to the sunset
through the embers of this dried rainbow.
It lasts lush for a moment, then night
October, 29th 2017
A beautiful photo by Anibrm Joung. Tank you Anibrm!
A long queue of poles enters the sea
as the wish to run toward the sky
where two landscapes quite different meet
each the other, where perhaps there’s true
Where do they go forward? To the sea?
They can not reach the line so far, there
the horizon is still farther, none
of those poles can go there to see God
I’m a beach, sandy place under waves
that come here then along always go.
My life swings like those cold and blue waves
my thoughts like those poles want to go there
All the lives are a wave: stop and go
start again, up and down, then be back.
After all, yet a gap then that line
which confuses my mind like my end
SL, Blue Curacao, January, 21st 2017
photo by JB 2016
The sky maybe builds link with the heavy
while down far it falls over there, farther
starting to link itself to the water
painting colours without any violence
A seagull screams both silly and foolish
paradigms with no sense or momentum
So desire becomes poor vain ambition:
everything is a fluid and fail supports
April, 30th 2016