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
Earth
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
Italian version
The skin of the angels 