Alone!!!!

longinghe sit behind those windows
as a right ~minimal~

thinking Alone ~ exhausted~
gleaming as a solid  carved figure
so real ~so heavy ~
A silent message from a silhouette
intense and living

steps disturbing  his thought
far away….but coming

breaking  away the not shared  thoughts

~to search for  ~ a little of love~
a tactile hand paused on his head
fingers entwining the hair
a cozy breath a warm touch
a tender kiss on his back
Surprise…seconds
another deep breath
fall apart  ~ the guaranteed silence~

he stands up ~knowing~

Economic Feelings
to the life

Seasons Time

Seasons time are for lonely hearts

they think about spring
it is coming with good things
they thought if summer arrives
will bring some sunshine to their lifesnowy gateBut the Poet season comes and
autumn … is  someone , something that gone away
long, long time ago

and what is important goes away so quickly

Season’s thoughts are for sad Poets
measuring their life in slices of time

reaping feelings, undone love, tears drops
in front a snowy gate

what we  must do?

if cold is a place where all is stolen from us
If winter is the best  harvest season
and comes ravenous against our souls

Knock, Knock, Knock….

knock, knock, knock
it is life again
do you feel this void inside?
maybe a fear?
something to do and you dont know How?
They call this reality sometimes life
that put you above the foam of oceans
just to push you back at the bottom
deep, deeply

you need air and use your strength to get it
and it is too much effort
in a brief moment you are ~done~
Oops…again at the topSwallow Ocean
so, so careless with us
I am a little tired of being thrown

from a side to another
thinking in How to fix it
But i cant…we cant
It is Life…They say….

Knock, knock, Knock

Wait ~just a moment~ I have to…

Catch my Breath first….

 

Between Shakespeare and Bukowisk!

arte-sedução-SEXO

 

 

 

you trace my back

 

with yours slender fingers

 

 until i kneel down 

 

 in solemn adoration

 

 

 

 

 

I am asking ~without words~

 

and cursing all my clothes

 

that you gently remove

 

 

 

you divide my body 

 

half nude ~half expectation~

 

and i fall soundlessly ~petal by petal~

 

loving in secrecy your perverse style

 

 

 

 

 

that is all i remember from your love

 

that you starts as Shakespeare

 

on my bed

 

 

and ends as  Bukowisk ~ slamming the door~

 

 

 

 

 

Bubbles ~ inside my chest~

And the bubbles ~ still acting and doing your job~

Fizzy

with all their colors ~ reflected by the sun~

or not reflecting hardly anything

Soap_bubbles-jurvetsonBecause

they are just tiny bubbles in a cauldron

~fleeting~ and sometimes useless
For Someone that see …They do that with a distant look or maybe because is beautiful to see and easy to flee
For me that blow it up and cast it in the air to everybody see

OH! No, they are  not indifferent feelings….it is despair
there was not a study for small and colorful bubbles…loose in the air

 

I think it  is because there is not time to sort them, measure them and finally label them….
So they are out there….Free and unknown
~thousands ~ inside my chest