The Lover

The Lover kissIt is soft and round
pink and smooth
sometimes exudes a perfume
some mouth
mouth of flowers
He draws in the air

touching ~even having a ghost   hands~

And he wonders

it is a woman’s sense
fooled by a  kiss in a glass
bottled in a bottle of perfume
It is silk!
And now he only wants stand there
between the anguish of seeing
but not being able to touch

It is soft and round
pink and smooth
beyond the window’s kiss

A Passionate’s Queue

A passionate’s queue
It is never fair
the First one loves no one
but just himself
(and I do not know what he is doing there)
But arouses tremendous love
in that girl who is just behind him
he never notice her or realized her existence

He is Narcissus in am empty view

The third one on this queue

is plenty of love and hate
for her and for him

That is an endless path
that is repeated in the corners
bars, houses. romances

and brothels

as vengence

feelings drowned in bottles and puffs of cigarettes

Just Whom loves someone

has the best view of things

but in charge

a heart that does not beat anymore

They remain stand on that place

full of first, second and third persons
with love, passion and desire
whatever

one day
someone , he or she

 that loved so much
in the both ways

the right way and inside out
on this poem and these hearts

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will see yourself alone

He calls Cain as he intends to kill
She is called Aurora, the girl who cries
He, Oh! HE!
Nightfall , who loves no one but is loved by all
At Day, as Aurora love

At night as Narcissus drowned

Obs.:  This poem was written originaly in Portuguese.  Difficult to translate. Sorry for possible errors :) :)

Crude and Uneven

 

i dont know what i hope for
when i search for  your hidden face

and i count
the few  words that were said

if they come to make me equal
or
if they are spoken just

to confirm the loneliness

Unaccomplished!

what i really  know is that
in the  domain of silence

does not fit all

does not contain all

Because

things keeps running in my hopeless ambition
the bite of the lips
the look of love
the hands shaking

images created

by listing

whom could you be

The language of your distance hurts me
and it comes in odd & even  days

to be sure

that i am still  crude and uneven

without you!Victoria de Samothrace

Just Another Day!!!!

I was reading “horoscope for the Day”
they sent to me a pretty Quote
to repeat it
a thousand times
and to wait…..

I think for the benefits

…………..

I have to confess
i dont like too much
to have to wait or do things
in the same way or  use the last words….
repeatedly

one of my few qualities
be on time and learn fast

Oh! I’ve been wait for you!!!
Or
“I love you”

Oh! How i am cinic when i pretend
that i believe
but
i just get embarrassed
and not knowing what to say

but what i wanted to say or scream loud
is
Please, that is not necessary
i am being polite… that is all….

that doesn’t mean
I am not romantic

I am….. Sometimes….
i like candles lit and the reflex that it does
weaving all forms in a misty way
as if that moment were  unreal
and it is
at least to me and brief

Terrified here!
with myself

Because the dim light it is fading
and taking away all my feelings20150329_150116
It is just another day!

Into the Bad Night

Into the bad night
i mourns over your body
and i lit two candles

I received the clear message
of loneliness …

Sealed on me   just the  memory

the wax
melted and burning my hands

when i was tired

I blew on your candles
and l lighted others

These, The Wind Alone
overblow
I had no  pain or burns

again

treacherous and dreadful way!

I just took care of my hands

How i am brief! turquia

Na Noite Má …

two pointed rocks1na noite má
velei teu corpo
e acendi duas velas
recebi o recado da solidão

Fiquei só com a lembrança da cera
derretida e queimando as minhas mãos

quando cansei da solidão
apaguei suas velas
acendi outras

essas,  O  Vento sozinho apagou

Não tive trabalho
nem dor nem queimaduras
caminho incerto, pavoroso!

 

cuidei apenas das mãos

Como Eu sou breve

Grateful ???

The Hell's Gate - Rodin

The Hell’s Gate – Rodin Garden

I wish I had all this gratitude
permanent on this world
A world of grateful people

But I can not.

I have to remind to myself to be grateful
to say thanks

it seems it doesn’t work very well

And there I am …. empty
trying to bargain with God
Lord excuse me but I’m here with nothing inside !

and I was forced to apologize!

still nothing there but….
Can i get one point?

Perhaps a reward?

No ????

 

I used to pass by the small chapel to go to church’s garden
But on the way there was a priest in black
Be grateful they sing …. The flowers are just right there!

Am I doomed? Did I care?

I’m still here drinking my coffee
and I am waiting for my apocalypse
That certainly will fall over me !

People say to me to pray .
Pray for the damage? Pray for the dead?

the damage was done Darling and the dear ones Gone

What is that?
It is a new plan to make life easier?

doesn’t matter anyway

I look inside and one  stripped soul

but i have few regrets to share

if anyone cares….
if not…
i have my special cigarette

Any God interested?

Oh My!

as I would like to be grateful!