Blood waves

Stuff written watching last Solfrid paint, the one here above in a sequence of two, named 1a and 1b. Blood waves is only the title of my stuff.

Anyway, I’m happy she restarted to paint!

Blood waves grow and branch out till the canvas
shows no more than a crimson large space.
Like a nightmarish time we do live
here and now during such odd bad days

Without thinking we go ahead. We
manage sadness with dreams and love hopes
Yet emotion is only instincts’ slave
so denies space to reason and knowledge

I felt never myself silly as
in the present time when evils swell
up again showing terrible faces
to an old feeble mankind that falls

Blood waves arise like warped image
and fill a second canvas with pain
that increases and enters my mind.
Absurd war and apostasy. Death

SL – Peaceful Land, April, 9th 2022

2nd – East

Flag of the Czar Peter the Great, found here

This is the second part of a thought titled West – East. See West for its first part.

In a world turned to its first age
made of bright past distinction and strength,
of lost lands and revenges and grudge,
through that world, through such world now I pass

I see strange odd landscapes there, outside,
and molasses that dulls each weak mind,
showed off richness and depravation
of those who have all things yet no sense

Without rules, Mankind sinks:
you are just perverse thrills
with no reason that hold and govern,
you are a feeble meeting of ghosts

I give meaning to history. I claim
and demand both my role and each thing
that the corrupt West took off from us.
Freedom to be as slaves I propose

March, 12th 2022

1st – West

JB, March 2020

When I wrote this stuff I did not know that a war would have been in Ukraine.

This is the first part of a thought titled West – East.

There’s a world made by dreams and splendours
which grasp all moments stacking them useless,
where there is no more value nor meaning.
Through that world, through such world now I pass

I see strange landscapes and a thick mist
floating over each thing, fading it,
sticking itself to any place, forcing
each poor mind to gestures with no use

Without rules, Mankind sinks
in its ancient beast ‘s cravings
and love is right and rape,
like each thing, instinct’s wage

Without sense to run to, Mankind rules
have no value. Each soul
becomes weird; everything soon dries up.
Freedom turns to be slaves

December, 13th 2021

Italian version

I see

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