Poetry
Passa/ Passes
The traveler well-travelled travels.
Running from the corroded cord that is her life,
From the disturbing and turbulent silence that is her mind.
A viajante viajada viaja.
Correndo do cordão corroido que é sua vida.
Far away is her land she seeks,
Procura,
Procura,
Procura,
And does not find.
In her bag she carries kept kisses and a mischievous childhood.
Carrega o samba nas coxas,
O arroz e feijão na boca.
How beautiful are the english.
Comportados conduzindo construções com conteudo,
Well-behaved conducting constructions containing complicated contents.
Passa pasto,
Pasture.
Passa pasto,
Pasture.
Passa boi.
Passa vaca.
Passam todos com seus passinhos comportados.
Passa a vida,
Life passes.
Porque que a gente passa?
Vive passando de la pra ca,
Desse pra aquele.
Without thinking it passes,
And you haven’t stopped to think.
Até que a viajante viajada vira velha.
Until the well-travelled traveller becomes an old woman,
Velha paralitica murchada que espera a morte noturna.
Only because sitting on the train,
She saw life passing by,
And instead of walking it,
She wasted it.
Wasted away.
Só por que sentada no trem,
Viu a vida passando,
E em vez de passear,
Padeceu.
Wasting away.
Life passes.
Devoradores
Somos devoradores de criação
Somos construtores de imaginação
Somos sempre
Mesmo longe
Conjuntos
Constantes
Somos o oposto daquele que simplesmente é
Somos tudo
Somos nada
Somos nós
Anarchism
You know what... I think we all are a little bit. It's embedded in our human nature, it's part of our instincts as developed and therefore "intelligent" (whatever that's supposed to mean) animals.
The same way we feel the need to creat laws, we are bound to break them.
Authority is a dirty word, it controls peoples minds when they come across it. The power feeds the ego and starves the heart.
We all know life is possible stateless.
We have walked away from our roots, we ignore our bodies and souls and only listen to our minds, which can become extremely vicious and deceiving.
Civilising society was a search for power, not for peace of mind and not for survival.
Deindustrialisation is the next step to creative construction of a fair world.
I've come from a place where fairness is not taken into account. If you're on top, stay there and keep acting as if you don't see the bodies lying on the street fighting to survive, while your responsibility doesn't even include washing your own clothes. All you gotta do is stay pretty and polite.
Fuck pretty.
Fuck polite.
Você
Você,
Que me econtrou no vazio da escuridão,
No silêncio da solidão.
Você,
Que me mostrou o caminho cheiroso,
Das florestas de flores cheirosas, amorosas, carinhosas.
Que me constrói aos poucos,
Me concerta aos muitos.
Que me calou daquelas descontentes canções,
Que me mostrou a orquestra do amor cantável.
Me leva para o reino do prazer;
Para o lago de poções sensíveis;
Para o nascer contente de afecto constante.
Quero seu calor insaciável
Leve deitado em minha pele.
Que não vive sem a sua,
Não respira sem seu inspiro,
Não dorme sem seu corpo a me cercar.
Born Perfect
We loose ourselves with the years
Born perfect
Honest
Energetic
Excited
Explorers
Grow to stupid
Analytic
Scared
Addicted
Lazy
Fake
Lets be children forever.
Pretend
I don't know you
You don't know me
I don't know myself
You don't know yourself
We live in lies
In fear
In rules
In stuff
There's nothing
Every relationship
Dead
Pretend
Tell them it's amazing
Marry
Have kids
Put a smile on your face
Take pictures
Throw parties
Drown in your own addictions
Power to end
There it is
Right in front of me
Dark, dirty
Calling
I could end all of it
All of the pain
The joy
The disgust
The anger
In one sharp sudden movement
How would people react?
Scream?
I won't
But I could
It only attracts me because it is uncertain
It is unrecognisable
It is warm
There's nothing like it
Curiosity
What would it feel like?
The jumping, quick
My heart would pump harder than ever did.
My breathing would get intense
My whole body would shake in terror and excitement
I would probably regret it on the last second
But then
The collision
One fraction
slow motion
My flesh being squished against the train
The sound of bones breaking
Blood explosion
One fraction
Knowing I have the power of ending a life makes me feel satisfyingly powerful.
Explodindo Coloridos
Explodindo coloridos,
De certezas desconcertantes.
Vontade de pular pro perigo de dentro,
Medo de perder o seguro de fora.
Lua da alegria,
Clareia meu caminho,
De Brasil ao todo resto.
Verde dessa mata,
Bebe minha alma,
Chove meu entender.
Gritante
Distante...
Antes constante,
Hoje quase figurante.
Seca fonte,
Sem monte.
Sem seu calor abafante
Ou batida acelerante.
Sentimento agonizante, asfixiante...
Já se foi o comunicante,
Brilhante e inventariante.
The contrast is between the grey truth and the locked beautiful green lies.
Fim de tarde.
O vento rebola as folhas nuas,
Pássaros conversam entre si.
Nuvens densas escondem o azul pacífico do profundo.
Lembranças passeiam pelo verde.
Lembranças de uma infância com aparência livre,
Trancada com portões daquele condomínio.
Pingos caem com precisão.
O barulho orquestral da chuva me acalma,
Telha se molha lentamente, formando desenho simétrico.
Quietude.
Cheiro molhado de chuva torta.
Árvores embriagadas dançam.
O homem tenta imitá-las,
Porém sua beleza é apenas contagiante.
Molejo
A felicidade é pouca para quem merece bondade monstra,
E amor é palavra pequena para tamanha imensidão.
Espalha sua sabedoria pelo mundo, que nesse a hipocrisia é muita.
Precisamos colher das suas terras plantadas de paixão, grãos de riso melódico e rosa cheirosa.
Venero-te.
The Wisdom of The Tree
The tree.
It's constantly reaching up.
Towards the infinite,
The majestic,
The open blue who invites.
It keeps the tree light, ever illuminated.
Simultaneously,
It's constantly reaching down,
Towards the darkest of the darks,
The thick, heavy brown.
Also infinite.
Earth's deepest body.
It keeps the tree firm, ever strong.
I would like to have the wisdom of the tree.
SONNET 001
Not from my heart do I select my words,
But from my judgemental calculations.
As glass that cuts the flesh and leaves the wound,
Iced is my blood that flows not to my bosom,
But refuse that one that can leave me ruined.
The more I'm free the more I'm lonely still,
Still counting empty drops of nothingness.
I'm maybe crashed, from all that broke me once
And left my naked heroes solely.
But virtuous as I was, never will again.
So go and hunt for love at other sight,
For I that word do not recall as mine.
I'll keep my feelings all deep down
So anymore I'll let you drown.
Dead Bones
I have an image of a calm ocean in my mind.
I wish my body was immersed in it.
Down at the bottom
In the darkness,
I would find peace,
Silence.
Silence from all the words that would be better not spoken.
Silence from all the noise we'd be better not hearing.
Silence from the pain we don't want to experience.
No destructive thoughts,
No slaughterous dreams and fears.
An embrace from the serene waters of the earth till my heart was completely still,
Surrounded by nature,
Mother Nature.
Mother.
Cold freedom,
Supporting my weight,
Forever gripping my dead bones.
He Mumbles
He mumbles
Moving his loose lips as if it wasn't intentional
As if it was coming out from his furious stomach
His eyes portray rage
Eyebrows curved and tense in the centre of his face
He is holding something
An old paper cup maybe
His eyes don't fix on anything
They just swim on the surface
He's still mumbling
Closed body language
Oversized rain coat
Old jeans
Curved shoulders
It's been 1 hour and he is still standing there
In front of the massive old building
The beauty of the architecture clashes with the pain in his eyes
He is still mumbling
His body sways from one side to the other occasionally
People walk by
They don't want to see it
They ignore
Same way they ignore the grandness of the building lost on the grey clouds
My curiosity grows bigger every second
I want to know this creature
I want to follow him daily
See what he likes
What he hates
Where he goes
But my fear stops me from talking to him
Stops me from looking into his eyes
I am embarrassed of my easy happy life
This clean thick window protects me from that unknown anger
Not in a good way
Time to go out
The eyes of small children reflect the bright light,
They play with the sand as if all of the world's existence was right there ready to be explored by their tiny fingers.
The thin extremities of that gigantic tree dance with the swinging wind,
Strong grounded tree gracefully moving with such freedom as if drugged by the presence of happiness.
Benches on the edge, ready for those loners, who beautifully and enviously admire the peace of nature.
Birds effortlessly glide through that empty space between us and the clouds.
An old man takes a picture.
It will sit on his living room,
Right beside the chair his late wife would rest every afternoon,
Telling him stories he only appreciates now they are gone.
I admire the threatening outside world, safely locked behind the suffocating windows.
It's time to go out.
Meio Morto
O vazio voltou,
Quer completar meus dias e noites.
Me beija no rosto e me afoga
Na cama onde acordo e vou dormir.
As noites são agitadas,
Sonhos estranhos que vem e vão,
E quando acordo meu coração vai dormir.
Não sente não fala,
Só dorme,
Meio morto.
Scattered
I have a plan.
I have control.
It's all ready.
It's been thought about a lot.
It's going on the right direction.
I'm achieving everything I have to.
So why are these feelings surrounding me today?
Lost.
Alone.
Soulless.
Wrong place,
Wrong time,
Wrong actions.
It's missing something,
Don't know what...
It's confusing.
I'm drowning on the silent chaos that is my mind at this point.
Maybe I'm just tired.
Maybe I'm just sad.
Maybe I'm just broken.
Just scattered,
Unconnected,
Afraid.
Aren't we all??
I'll be fine tomorrow.
Come
Come.
Come.
Come with me,
To the edge of the sea.
Lie me down
On the new born grains,
Of white honest sand.
Let me drown
In the smell of your neck,
In the sheets of your bed,
With the touch of your skin
I want to get lost
On the darkness of deeper waters,
On that smile that makes me drunk,
On that taste that relaxes my soul
The wind is blowing away the lies.
I am learning to be myself,
With another.
The waves are dancing around,
Our bodies swinging with the music
Come.
Come.
Come with me,
To the edge of the sea.
Tuneis e Chubis
LAMas LAMbuzadas.
AMoras AMadas.
Grama Gostosa.
Esse cheiro de infância sapECA não sECA.
Se instalA nA minhA almA colorida de paixão.
ALGUNS foRAM,
ALGUNS vieRAM,
Outros ficaRAM.
Nós Sempre Seremos:
LigADAS,
ConectADAS.
TUNEIS E CHUBIS!
Desagradável mar de poesia voltado ao mesmo tema que se quer provar provável. Amor.
Esse desconhecido indisconhecível,
Me segue pelas madrugadas alertas cansadas.
Discutido pela massa indelicada de sentimento,
Manuseado pelas mentes largas da propaganda,
Aspirado pelos que deleitam felicidade utópica,
Não me compra confortavelmente com promessas coloridas e perfumadas.
Quero o incheirável
Intocável
Descolorido
Desagradável
Disforme
Distanciado
Sensível.
Um pouco de tudo junto, virou muito
De tudo fica um pouco.
Daquele ficou muito.
As rosas murcharam
E o tempo se foi,
Mas um pouco daquele cheiro ficou.
Um pouco das palavras desenhadas.
Um pouco dos sentimentos na pele.
Um pouco de tudo junto, virou muito.
Nos construimos.