Cold and peace

Picture by JB, 2018


Cold and peace. A stone church is deserted,
swindled out its old decorations,
all ruined, returned, again risen
surely pale yet now surely alive

There’s a silver cross, it’s as a flame
brightly shining. It hardens immanence
of tangible solace and hope too.
Inside it a Wood crosses our flesh
 

In the cloister, where it now survives
– it was sold – spring and warmth
exalt us like the beautiful apses.
Truly I regret old times of saints
 

Hammer blows on the face of my Christ,
all the heads ripped off from white angels,
columns sold, above all the stone graves
desecrated. Every space marred, spoiled …
 

Stupid beasts pushed out history
which built them and destroyed their own faces
so erasing each sense, beauty, hope.
Cold and peace and memory are left
 

St.Guilhem le Desert, April, 4th 2018

Relic of the Holy Cross, Angel without face, body of St.Guilhem. Picture by JB, 2018

Italian version

 

It is difficult to know who best deserves the title of Most Cretinous Philistine – the people who sold them [the columns of the cloister], those who bought them, or those who now decline to return them. The cumulative damage of these various acts of vandalism [begun with the French revolution] was so severe that it is now impossible to determine the number and sequence of its columns – or even the dimensions of the cloister

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Empty mind

Pic by JB, 2018

 

Empty mind with no thoughts
doesn’t know what I am
lost in silly streams made
by mist, details and fog
 

Snow came, snow soon has gone
so the ground is back brown
mix of mud and fresh hopes
of sense and better days
 

A life’s breath splits the clouds
that invade all the things’
and thoughts’ space
 

In the winter’s cold March
can grow up

 
Italian version
March, 4th 2018

I need silence

JB, 2013

 

Now
I need silence
and cold.

I need time
to sink watches
I need time
to stop time
I seek thoughts
to kill thoughts.
 

I find
only empty bad thoughts
I find evil
the evil I am.
 

I was selfish and cruel
I need silence and cold
to freeze fantasies
So the emotions
can turn themselves to ice.
 

I need glasses
to see better me
I need ice glasses to
freeze my heart
to survive
Bye for now
bye dear friend

 

January, 30th 2018

Avatar’s dew

I found this photo here

 

Ok: that so dear friend told me something about another meaning of the word “dew” in Japanese language.
I wrote this stuff for that friend …

 

You were smile of the dew
upon green winter grass
You were light happy rain
in my spring among nights

You were dream in my life
that runs fast toward death.
That’s my sin: to be there
empty mask withouth flesh

 

February, 1st 2018

First rain

pic found here

 

First rain comes in the new coming year
that has come by now and that now passes
on the lake, on the woods and the mountains
and on me, on my alarmed look
 

Just now a frozen breeze brings me back
languors of all my time and the snow
covers the alps of far and distant worlds
where each summer and beauty hurt me
 

Give me strength to go further me while
the cold tightens my mind and her thoughts
to go where You want me, where You wait
me and my heavy spirit of ice
 

Bring me away from the winter sad time
of my relentless, slow and bad nights
me, that look at my old withered glares
in the clouds that flow and so fast go

January, 3rd 2018

 

Italian version

 

 

 

My smoke

Photo by JB 2017

 

I need pain in my life
to see well what I am
I need night in my light
to see You further me
 

In the garden of sun
trees and shrubs enjoy light.
Where their roots look for peace
there’s an ancient cave dark
 

Under ground, I go there
to see me in the smoke
to feel all that my smoke
and to be as the smoke
 

Like that cave is my life
many days in my years
when I swear any light
and become only smoke

 

January, 13th 2018

Anyway

pic by JB: my 2017 Crib

 

Purple tears are the leaves
after the autumn’s gold in the wood.
I look at the frost coming down to
the world, that quickly runs to the solstice

 

The leaves drip to the ground like my days
in the gardens now soaked with winter.
I pray that Something want now return
in the Advent, when life can reborn

 

My crib is still awaiting a Child,
strange king who gives Himself to the people.
I’m the one who sleeps showing her back
the one You come to save

                                                 anyway

 

December 2017

 

Italian version