Writing

20150329_150116i was at the middle of one letter but suddenly all change and

I guess I wasted time not feeling anything for so long .

Words that once come from my feelings.. . And now it is so hard to write again.

Or else my life has become so comfortable and It forgot to Warn me .

Comfort and poetry do not exist together.
do not exist together!!!

 forgot to warn me!

I’m not happy but I’m a poet and I’ve never seen a happy poet, either.

They are always fighting great inner battles. Some dying, others being unhappy in love. Especially in love.

It takes so much efforts to be happy that I gave up. I can be happy just writing to you or about you.

I think happiness exists but it is not the desire to have something.

But have someone!

She is a being that is given to you or not.

Drink her in small sips or write when she arrives and if have lips around, kiss them. Push them against you. Enjoy the feelings.

You can lie too. All becomes true later with the pen and paper in hands.

Push them, push them out of you!

A body helps a lot and if you have it one close to you, use it.

Write, above and below your love. On the soles of the feet, on the palms of the hands, on the thighs. Ah! The thighs. They are soft and respond more quickly to inspiration. Listen to your heart . Do not forget to breathe slowly and then deepen.

At the last minute, in the last drop of sweat. Then yes … your poem will be ready before she flews away.
That is my way to be a poet and to love
and
My loneliness of which my soul is made feasts.
And i write !

because

There is something terribly wrong when I do not write.

Penny dreadful

 

i  supose  i dont need you to be a man in flesh and blood
or I, a woman … in spirit
or being human or not….

You could be a beast

dreadful
horrible

your speech, the way you express yourself
is not
and you count on me
you count with the fierceness that i believe on you

that   complete all gaps..  all holes inside you
when you are alone

if you are real… if you are a  man…

But I…I am penny dreaful
and they talk and chant about me in the alleys
at the dawn
drunks …

sustained by the walls

and when they has fully exhausted all the bad options

they wait in a veiled dream
that redeem all of them
but not me…

I know….

Another night will come and
another sing they will chant
and
“Penny Dreadful that is what we want”

 i’ll succumb to the charm of their voices and depraved calling
again….
So, i dont need you be a man in flesh and blood
perfect  and charming
just hear you
because sometimes i need to be rescued
not by a penny , not by affliction

but by a poem

penny

Lunar

And because i know that time always deceives us

that it is never perfect because time  always fails with us

and, therefore, it is little, it is time, it is few

 that our words do not complete us

 our sight do not reach us

I to you, you to me

So… i am Lunar… I have to be

because i seek a pattern

 i need … The soundness of your look

that lies within our absence

and that fills each one of us with nothing

lunar-eclipse-2010

And because  you are Intention

You rule the seasons

sometimes warm me, sometimes you are my solitude….

 the little, the few, the nothing  you gave me

runs through the lunar cycle and back again to warm me  up

and i love you for that

THE WISE MAN & THE CLEVER WOMAN

It comes from a yellow embroidered tent, from closed curtains.
a weightless scent of olive oil. That twirls and fills the air.

Inside … a man of the desert. Nomadic nature, wise heart .

He is so tall and impressive with his almond eyes,with his almond smell…

The people outside waits and wants for one part of him.

The wise man, is reluctant.  He has afraid. He has died for it before and returned to improve the perfect dose …Not too much love, not too much apple…

Men dont accept high amounts of love .

The more he moves making his potion , more intoxicating he becomes. And the air around transformes itself in a irresistible scent.

He has to stop. He dont know but i know…

I am outside, with my potion in hands, that prevents me to attack him, so i am just watching how the people act. I feel the danger in the air.

He lives alone and in a thousand places to avoid people to follow him.
After all

He has the love potion .The power to cure the world.

i see men in ties, women in hysteria.
I heard cries and pleas.
and the wise man in gold appears

a sweet smile  on his lips

and the immediate future
I foresse

some tears dropping on his face….
just sealing his   fate

He released the scent of the love from his hand.

People started to act as crazy. They dont know who to love or who to desire….

who they will rip  in pieces

He remains stand and knowing that he failed

“Men dont deserve  high amounts of love”

I jumped to his side and said:

Not too much love, my love, not with too much loveMan of the desert and clever woman
and i released the scent of apple….

And the mob, maddened
remained at the middle of the way.
Undecided, hesitant.

And as quickly as possible. I took the bottle on his hand
impatient , as i am, I mixed the both and we inhaled the scent
and i shouted with joy
Now we are rich! we are rich!
And he did not understand until these days.

My Heart????

It is with a Blasé Air
cold and distant
that you must speaks to an empty heart

if you do not tells anything, no matter
if you goes by and not greets , he also did not notice you
if you not invited him to parties, he wont care less

You can be happy, be my guest
or unhappy in tears
you can be run over in front of …
or die in a newspaper headline

It is with a Blasé air
cold and distant
what you must wait of an empty heart

emptiness … because nothing is forever….
nothing does not exist, must does not persist
I exhale an old absence

and inhale deeply
and put a new one hole chuva_meteorosin place

I have to decide

if this heart is my or not….

A Passenger says Goodbye!

Dear friends and poets
You should be following the news about my country , Brazil,  and may not understand very well. What is important for you to know that we are in a war. On the one hand the fascist and dictators and the media who have always controlled the country and in another side , my side,  those who wants democracy and all our constitutional rights guaranteed . It is an uphill struggle because they have all the media in favor of them. Just for you understand is like Fox, CNN,Time and CBS  together against you.
What we can do is go to the streets wearing the red color, to differentiate ourselves only, and keep the pressure on the Internet.
It is a war!
For this reason I have not written as I like.
My heart and my strength are in this fighting against these rich and defamatory media and this corrupt legislature.
I ask you to forgive me but I have not had time to visit your websites as i  like and read and view photos, poems that make me feel so well.
What to do …. I’m considered a power opponent of the now established as others too . But like all of you, I am patriotic, I love my country and I will do all I can to make   us free  from these  ruling class that does not want to give up their privileges  but just want to keep it in hands and explorer the simple  and poor people.

There is a possibility of them invade my Facebook or my blog. But remember whom I am and bandeira-brasil1not a fake person they will probably build.
With  all my heart!  Hope see you soon!

Poetheart.