Uploaded October 2024 | Updated September 2026, 9 hours ago
Milan Tonight! Sold out as is tomorrow nights show.
02/10 Castelvetro - Ca’Berti
03/10 Pisa - Caracol
05/10 Marostica - Sala Don Bosco
Here’s a poem I wrote on the bus on the way here. Filmed at The Duomo in Milan by Amelie Chopinet
Salvation’s Breath
Why not be wide open
Why limit ourselves into ideas about silly and transitory things like identity
For what are we really
And what mirror are we measuring our reflection against?
Something we’ve imagined
Another imaginary being imagining?
Imagine that!
For are we not the ocean
Or green Italian mountain
Or the stars glowing in eternity’s night?
How could we conceive of such things
If somehow we weren’t aligned with them
If somehow we weren’t exactly as they are
Without limitation
Or like divinity’s tree
Producing fruits of endless variety
Would we tell the grape not to grow next to the apple
Would we tell the orange to make way for the kiwi?
And perhaps the branches of our tree
Blossoms more than just strange fruit
But rather
Alien wind
Spiritual force
Universal light
And love’s inspiration
Perhaps we are here to overcome the suggestion
That we are temporary beings
Scaling the walls
Of idiotic prison yards
Held hostage by a cockroach called the ego
When it would be easier to just step on it
His body crushed under our feet
As an explosion of light breaks from the cracks of his carcass
And it’s as if suddenly we’ve awoken from madness
Driving to Milan
Riding a bus
The green mountains boom majesty in the sun
Espressos and cakes
It’s Sunday
And nothing is required
But to shift consciousness within towards him
To sift through the clouds kissing the mountain tops
Of I am
To make sure gratitude is in earshot
And rest the voice for the next explosion of song
We are born to dance and expand
Or to realize we never were constricted
But for the devil’s whisper lying to us
The crushed cockroach turned into a man
Falling on a cross
As salvation’s breath
Gusted his hair through the wind of our prayers
His eyes opened
And we realized we were him
Limitless and beyond the vortex of sin
From here our world was ours to create
Made in his image
He’s shown us through suffering
How to build worlds with no limit
Why not be wide open
He says his arms stretched open
His light boundless in our authenticity
Our direction needs no map but an internal one
We’ve always been on the path
But our feet were shackled
Now we run into the open
As our feet never touch the ground
Josepharthur.com
Milan Tonight! Sold out as is tomorrow nights show.
02/10 Castelvetro - Ca’Berti
03/10 Pisa - Caracol
05/10 Marostica - Sala Don Bosco
Here’s a poem I wrote on the bus on the way here. Filmed at The Duomo in Milan by Amelie Chopinet
Salvation’s Breath
Why not be wide open
Why limit ourselves into ideas about silly and transitory things like identity
For what are we really
And what mirror are we measuring our reflection against?
Something we’ve imagined
Another imaginary being imagining?
Imagine that!
For are we not the ocean
Or green Italian mountain
Or the stars glowing in eternity’s night?
How could we conceive of such things
If somehow we weren’t aligned with them
If somehow we weren’t exactly as they are
Without limitation
Or like divinity’s tree
Producing fruits of endless variety
Would we tell the grape not to grow next to the apple
Would we tell the orange to make way for the kiwi?
And perhaps the branches of our tree
Blossoms more than just strange fruit
But rather
Alien wind
Spiritual force
Universal light
And love’s inspiration
Perhaps we are here to overcome the suggestion
That we are temporary beings
Scaling the walls
Of idiotic prison yards
Held hostage by a cockroach called the ego
When it would be easier to just step on it
His body crushed under our feet
As an explosion of light breaks from the cracks of his carcass
And it’s as if suddenly we’ve awoken from madness
Driving to Milan
Riding a bus
The green mountains boom majesty in the sun
Espressos and cakes
It’s Sunday
And nothing is required
But to shift consciousness within towards him
To sift through the clouds kissing the mountain tops
Of I am
To make sure gratitude is in earshot
And rest the voice for the next explosion of song
We are born to dance and expand
Or to realize we never were constricted
But for the devil’s whisper lying to us
The crushed cockroach turned into a man
Falling on a cross
As salvation’s breath
Gusted his hair through the wind of our prayers
His eyes opened
And we realized we were him
Limitless and beyond the vortex of sin
From here our world was ours to create
Made in his image
He’s shown us through suffering
How to build worlds with no limit
Why not be wide open
He says his arms stretched open
His light boundless in our authenticity
Our direction needs no map but an internal one
We’ve always been on the path
But our feet were shackled
Now we run into the open
As our feet never touch the ground
Josepharthur.com
