All that heat

I look at all that heat from cool shade,
from a cave among green and old ivy.
Outside hot spell insists with cicada
in the merciless, summer day light

In your shadow I live, you are a fresh
shelter from anxiety that takes me
when I work or I go on black roads,
when I see people’s empty pale faces

Last solstice skimmed short time ago
and it’s victory of living on darkness.
I almost forget the time end
even if it comes down: I feel peace

We are in the shadow of a so strong Hand
which governs everything in best way
We are shipwrecked spread in this world
yet we are not alone. We are there
                                                      and there is here a Sense

 

June, 28th 2019

 

Italian version

 

…………………………..AND NOW…. HOLIDAY!!!!!

Peace and crickets

This movie is by Francesca Bonfatti

 

Peace and crickets knead themselves at evening
with leftover heat wave of this day.
I release my mind free: it finds sweetly
you and thinks about you everywhere

You gave me your caresses tonight
I caught you full of passion and quiver
like a tender surrender and gift
to that love that still takes us so tight

Evening star shins up there looking at
me from a deep dark sharp blue clear sky
into the summer night. It is fullness
of memories, that are now too much,
                                                             and it’s hope

 

Italian version

 

Cicadas

Photo by JB, 2017

 

Fussy noise by cicadas invades me
and comes down from the top of old cedars
growing through my mind and all the garden,
paroxysm in the heat of today

It’s a summer’s sign and marks this time
that regenerates futile instincts
to the love that fades always at night.
I long for complete fullness of days

 

July, 6th 2018

 

Italian version

 

Yellow straw

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Yellow straw tells me old story
about seasons and work, about fruits
Now it dries at the sun, useless, dead
tired gold poured down on the fields
 

You cut straws for me once, in my prime,
inside mature wheat stem, in the summer,
you told me about butterflies, bees
leading so my young life to its bloom
 

Now I am in the evening of days,
as sail broken by slaps of bad wind.
I know that you are alive and you are better
yet I wish here your strength, your strong hand

July, 4th 2018

 

Italian version

Clemp

The village of Clemp,  JB 2016

 

I am tasting my slow steps that just
go on as they know. I ...
                      breathe the wind
which caresses the old shingle roof
of the village and the fort's stones too
 

In the silence of all the green grass
I soon vanish while all bad world's griefs
fade. Life is ...
                  as it is and right now
and it is peace and quiet consent


Clemp, August, 13th 2017

Italian version

Foggy smoke

Pic from here

 

Foggy smoke: so we are and the breeze
of the nightfall erases and melts us
like the breath of a child on a mirror:
like we’re nothing that nothing breaks up

Foggy smoke and its doubts fast corrodes
purity in all virginal looks.
So each smile turns into twisted sneer
where the love is just claimed domain
 

Too warm days in this fog. So rare freshness
and clarity too I research inside you,
in your eyes, which I spy while the close
of a so confused life haunts myself
 

After foggy smoke and at the evening
sweetness I meet again; the fatigue
of the affairs of the day calms itself.
Then I can hope some peace here with you
 

Foggy smoke, I soon vanish. Everywhere
I see silliness into this world
and in what I do too. Rarely at times
I surprise an immense, splendid Beauty

 

July, 4th 2017

Italian version

Corpus Domini

Pic found here

 

This my present is maybe described
using runes, so I can’t find its key
hidden into such alien strange seasons
full of mystery, dryness and shadows
 

Algorithms made by an abstract coldness,
betray each our human awareness,
liquefy any real essentials
and give up themselves to bestial instincts
 

Deviant morals gain day by day death
while our reason is pray of deep sleep
and so wavers and more monsters come.
Everything is due, claimed possession
 

The reality lies low as dream,
a delirium of insipid wishes.
Violence is so a normal thing
everywhere: echo and terrible scream
 

 
Existences
we shuffle around as in slippers:
only pale and blind shades
of those who lost their role in the world.
My Church seems also a joke
 

I’m a jump of acrobatic cripple
and pretend and hold me toward nothing
while each thing falls down all around here.
Make us real, me too. Give me sense

 

June, 27th 2017

 
Italian version

This life

 

Photo by JB, 2009

This life gave me your eyes so clear, light
during my winter days, a concretion
of cold, sadness and silence
that you win, that you suddenly won when we met us
 

Yes, the life gave me your lovely eyes
full of beauty like the linden smile
when it scatters its scent and the sweetness
in the warm ride to the next solstice
 

The life gave me as present your eyes
and your lips and your hands and your skin
that I touch and a shiver moves me
while my soul moans and quivers and ripples
 

This life gave me your eyes, nowadays
tired yet again stretched forward
beyond me and the world, to the horizon
of each gesture so thrown even further

 

June, 19th 2017

 

Italian version

You introduce me

You introduce me to the sun today
when the summer is falling into autumn
and the night wins again on the day
and my face grows old while I watch you

You reflect the sun also today.
The equinox just went down and the mist
demurely dresses brown dry old twigs
that already sleep dreaming for leaves

You were sun and it was autumn day
in the strange old age owned by Rome;
we were young and my being across
the time was quite without any reason

You direct my gaze towards the sun
even if the time hurts also you
and my anger denies all the light.
In your eyes I see marks of splendour

September, 23rd 2016

Italian version