Saturday, July 17, 2004

Meus poemas

Resolvi hoje publicar alguns dos meus poemas que já publiquei num site chamado
I'm here to stay
Whatever you want or need
I'm here to stay
If the wind changes direction
I'm here to stay
Even if all pessimistic predictionscome true
 and we realize that they weren't bad at all
I'm here to stay
For there's no reason to skulk
When the wind changes direction
It will catch you unawares
And will blow with all its fury
We won't be swept away though
For we have grown stronger

In her imaginary muteness
She could communicate
whichever way she wanted
Even her erratic behaviour
would change towards her silence
It was an act of defiance
over the arrogant attitude
of some individuals
She would try to remain
 in her subconcious world
but aware of the reality around
Her meaningless reaction for some people
was mightier than they ever imagined
We could think life changes through speech
But her seductive apathy
was much more appealing

Here we are at the edge
of a glorious morning sun
where the jealous can't get by
and light is as fickle as candle-light
I wish a million mornings such as this
overtaking me as if a thousand soldiers
ripped my body away

No thoughts, just wonders
some experiences leave profound
marks on ourselves
the greatest permeate
so powerfully that
they exhale scents of the freshest morning
others, not well lived make us think of regrets
and bitterness
we tend to block these memories
avoiding insanity
however we are made of
flashbacks and hopes
that run through our veins
in our daily quotidian
expecting this flame
to burn ceaseless
no matter how dangerous it can be

There's a river that runs through
No hemisphere can cross it
North or south, east or west
Methinks it is best
to leave it to rest
in the remains of the last
brain cell I possess
For I feel dogged
whereby fears I have not come across yetS
upposedly, have I not yet faced them
I thankfully regret things I forgot to say
Sexuality condemned, repressed
a whiff of Victorian days
Yet to be channelled
Via Cruces
My own private catharsis

Scatter the scattered scarecrow
burn its remains in the afterglow
throw its ashes on the river flow
It is thoughtful to mull over
its cinders
Celebrate its very passing
For it is dangerous not to have
life in reins
He who had been
For being was the only thing he could
He who had been
those unbearable sights
of creatures gasping for breath
at twilight

A última palavra é a do poeta: a última palavra é a que fica.
A última palavra de Hamlet: O resto é silêncio.
A última palavra de Júlio César: Até tu, Brutus?
A última palavra de Jesus Cristo: Meu pai, Meu pai, por que me abandonastes?
A última palavra de Goethe: Mais luz!
A última palavra de Booth, assassino de Lincoln: Inútil, inútil...
E a última palavra de Prometeu: Resisto!

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