7.15.2008

Different Directions

A little twist on your way,
Turning you slightly to the right,
And there you are heading in different direction.
You didn’t want it,
You didn’t foresaw it,
But that’s your direction now
And you are undoubtedly heading differently than planned.





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5.30.2008

VAI E VEM

O mar, poesia itinerante,
Visita inconstante,
Portador de segredos
E pensamentos inquietos.
Sonhos incompletos
No lava-pés incessante
A despeito da vontade alheia.
Ou da macia areia.







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Resistant Rose

Resistant rose
Patiently waiting for a sun kiss.
Dust, wind, fog hits the unfaded flower,
Shaking helplessly by the speeding cars,
Looking to the sky above
Searching for something else…
Fragile petals,
Tiny fingers pointing with hope
To another sunny day.




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4.25.2008

Refuge

When my world failed on me again, I desperately needed to find peace somewhere else. The feeling of having to be awake and alert all the time is disturbing. I provided relief; I deserve to be relieved too. Amidst the inner turmoil invading my heart with unease feelings and my head with a thin spinning headache, I needed to seek for refuge. And I found that in my books, eternal silent loyal friends, and full of good words and far away lands of magic and devotion, ready to take me in a ride of infinite pleasure and absence from the here and now.




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4.14.2008

Minha Sobrinha

O rosto sereno,
sono de anjo
que ainda não se sabe caído na Terra
para exercício de nosso amor.
Essa paz das feições gentis
da pequena menina adormecida,
se transforma em luz,
que ilumina nossos labirintos
das rotinas ordinárias do cotidiano.




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4.03.2008

Articulações

Se as palavras me dão asas,
que eu voe bem alto em cada uma delas.
Se os sonhos me dão direção,
Que eu possa gravá-los
Em cada uma de minhas sentenças.
Se a imaginação me leva
Que eu tenha uma jornada boa.
Se meus versos te atingem
Que seja com alegria
E o sabor real
De uma mensagem bem-vinda.





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3.27.2008

Emptiness

Emptiness

There is a throbbing emptiness
Caused by things not well done,
Caused by the absences
Of the presences not noticed before.
One nods to the idiocy
Contained in broken dreams,
In broken hearts,
In the pathetic of being,
But what comes after that anyway?
When, then, one finds failure in himself,
Try to escape into big statements
Or faceless empty remarks.
That emptiness,
Caused by the bad choices,
Cause of many causes,
Slowly and completely
Eats out the flesh and soul
Of a good intentions man.





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3.13.2008

LORETTE


I never heard about that church before,
Just about its rich cousin on the other side.
I entered, reverencing the years there
Imbibed in every stone with pride.

The usual darkness dominated me
And I felt scared for a moment,
A thousand voices rambling in the void,
Hollow sensation of pain and torment

I never walk through the middle,
But surrounding the benches.
So did I, moving toward the altar
Of this small church in France.

That’s when I noticed the stand
With a small perforated map
It was a bombing model
Hoping the history not to forget.

That night in the Light City
The Germans’ bombing was ferocious
No escape seemed possible,
Their power was atrocious

The church then seemed logical
And three hundred gathered there
Prayer seemed the only hope,
The only way to their lives spare

Then the miracle came:
Amid the disrupting terror
For the Germans, a mistake
For the French, blessing error

Not even one single bomb
Found their way to the temple
And the people, relieved, prayed more
For God to take it as example.

That day, reviving the history again
I felt peace was the most precious good.
And I left the church intrigued:
How come man yet hasn’t understood?




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Revisitando os planos...

Assim, assimilada no mundo dos outros, penso meus dias com o desejo firme de retornar ao meu. Mas meu mundo não me foi generoso da mesma forma e, agora que estou no chegando ao meio de minha existência, não cosidero mais tão importante tantas coisas importantes de antes. Qual a saída então? Pensar no que vem mais naturalmente, escolher menos, deixar a vida me levar mais (vida leva eu...fala Zeca!) já que resistir só causa rugas e olheiras; compilar poesias soltas no ar para me divertir depois, quando elas estiverem em páginas impressas. Esse, sim, o único objeivo palpável, duradouro e firme de hoje.
Então, deixa começar meu dia da forma que mais me apraz: escrevendo. Bom dia para todos nós.






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12.21.2007

Trying to conciliate all who I am, I, sometimes, get lost in piles of old papers without importance that blur my eyes to what is really worthy. I feel like I spend the time solving problems that should be file into the back drawer in my life cabinet. My preferences are not taken into consideration because there are things more important to do and then I see myself drowning in my own complaints about that. Nobody listens, as if anybody ever had listened. Neither they have too, I am the one that has to make sure my world revolves accordingly. Need to go further into this reasoning....




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