It is a Bang!

having the title

but not having you anymore

It is a big Bang! Bum

I am not suffering anymore

because it is a big bang

And all people can see!

what can i desire more?

it is like a special music

bang, bang and uhmmm

the time is gone

you are in the middle of the desert

i am still … an ocean to thrive

i think the worst part in on me

it is ok….

“vrai” feelings are forever

a big Bang for you!gardener12

 

If an open umbrella

if something is open

it is an umbrella…  as you all do and know

i can choose sundry ideas and movements

can i open it? can i break it?

in many, so many pieces

because i had, i have so many options

 i choose to break it

to collect the pieces

it is more cooler for the soul and fun!

i bet tha this moment  i can win

from all  of you…

they are coloured, a miscellaneous of shapes

i can understand all of it

so easy to keep when falling over me

but not to forever, i know

but it is good…

i am used to it

 it fills me anyway, for seconds or milleseconds

i  prefer  to dash it into a little fractions

as into peaces they are

but i can achieve the  pain

the before pain….

it is like a commons rain

any color, any  predictable movement

i denied

the touch, the invisible is raining over

powerfull

i destroy the umbrella and firmly believe

I do not  have other way

as addicted i am

pursuiting the rain

Do i have one chance?

such beautiful caos!

20150329_165410

 

 

 

UBER

UP,
of the street level
searching around for my Uber

i ,barely, couldn’t see with my blurred eyes

hundreds of lost hand and …
I tough: I am totally drunk!
Unfortunately!
but it is not the time
to easily sight
what is unreal over my eyes

i was down , but they….
so easily gliding over the snow
 falling gradually
that i thought it was because
the empty spaces they had created
between them

It is proper for empty hands and empty hearts

both
those who are falling, those  are ready to fall off
they could see
they are not alone
but welcome

Who is beyond ,

hand in hand
under  the buildings  or the cities
they still have the hope
that you will fall too

drink of hell
Well !

I took my Uber, quickly

saving my poetheart!

because i am not so fearless
and i swore I am never drinking again!

I dropped….

poema-e-poesia1

because i’ve lost my glasses
and i  saw a tiny letters
a name … signed with a huge feeling
I feel myself strange
divided
that was you but but i was not expected for you
rude… am i?
blind, i am, be sure of that

stumbling into drinks and papers
it was not a time for surprises

surprise me when i am awake
when i can be polite as always
when i know that can be you
and, finally, when i find my glasses

The Thief of Souls, The Autumn Man

Happy in MaringaThey are in my poor notes. Words without nexus, written in several moments and in thousand notebooks that sometimes I find the motive to poetize.

Words like green and soul and phrases like: Lonely friends to a lonely friend ….That Makes me write.

I have no more inspiration! I need a single touche who drives me crazy where I can draw a poetic verse!

It was wasted!

I was wasted!

I do not even know if I hate the one who drained my restlessness and recklessness in being …

Being who I am!

Which, incidentally, is not at all interesting but only a relief.

I know that I spend days in solitude.

The face,  folded into books and  sheets and an tremendously  aversion to the common.

With  each passing day makes me to be more   alike a poet!

People escape me and I thank them in silence.

An eternal and grateful reverence for his absence.!

The ideas disappear inside a chest , full of memories and I grow in rage …. So much the  autumn man taken from me but on the other hand I was given so much that we are even. But the anger still grows.  Increases, foams inside the chalice.

A cold touch!

My biggest secret is to fear the thief of souls and he should never know!

It is perfect to fear who else looks like dry branches … And will  fall….

I do not see anything on him.

The convenient, the polite,  the polished movement of dry lips accompanied by  a empty  soul. And so imperfectly.  He touched my soul with her cold, icy hands. He marked me!
I have a mountain here. Immense and beautiful. I got lost there and found me there.

Cursed be you!

Let the green fills my soul, the airt to purify my blood and the cold to freeze me.

Ishould return by the  sun’s ray  and

touchs by   people,  with affection and that should bring me to  life.
I would like to dissemble!

The price would be too high!

I would like to  write happily things instead  you have to read the   defrosting process of a imprisoned soul .! A inner struggle for freedom and a  history. But, by chance, i  always have a good delivery to my soul! Always!

I survided!
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They GO for a walk

The keepers of secrets have memories to imprison

such is their sad condition

Such it is the obligation of the sun , to be  pale and weak, fanting behind the clouds

for the Ghosts…. When the  Ghosts …

They have to get a ride

droplets are falling , a little bit careful….  A tribute

for them … because they are going for a walk

They are going to breath

and I….

I am here …. trying desperately  to close the door and my only window

but the wind…. Ha!!!  He had to appear….. Throw me violently to the ground and they came , dancing in my eyes

A whisper

A trembling voice to a devastated body

Listen upthe collector of souls

Such is my sad condition

when they go to a walk …

When the prision is not enough