Rain!!! 1 day naprowrimo

raining in the bedyou’re my rain
that rained in so many places before
until reach me
you soaked, sowed and reaped
but now you’re my rain
that will watering me every night
and mix your waters in my
a little pain, a little love
balanced during the day
but when the night comes
and you guess ~your hands between my legs~
water’s hands soft and warm
what storms that we may be
below and above

Today’s Menu – Tomorrow’s Meal

Writing together with the Poet Anthony Burkett



To the tiger that is showing your fangs

walking like human with slowly cadence

brightening the short distance in between me and him

with his yellow sparkling eyes

with all respect sir for your dark stripes

moving along my heart just now so so tight

i have to shoot you and kill you sorry

…but i need survive

too bad Mr. Tiger… so sorry…

to take your meal from you

for my own

Knock, Knock! The Messenger brings a Surprise!


Something must  to be delivered

or could be ~Someone??~

No one knows at this tragic time which was  the truth

~the veracity of the facts~



hand over at the doorstep

placed so careful to  always remember..to remember
DSC09576The tiny thing~ at the threshold~

in a huge place
that could be a Castle….
But It was a Castle for her incredulous eyes

they rang the bell with the pack in hands


and instantaneously the “Surprise” cries

the “Surprise”  understood….on a glimpse of crossed eyes

~that Castle was now my~

and the messenger just went away
without one beckon
with the heart so so tight

the addressees just untied the simple lace
that fall down at their knees
Oh! that petite thing that shout
why does it cry so high????

Oh! They never saw such grace in life



How about the Surprise?






Carnivorous and strange tree!!!!

carnivorous flower

Carnivorous and beautiful flower

They are enormous and heavy....

They are enormous and heavy….

They grow near the ground and also in the high.

They grow near the ground and also in the high.

Beautiful is not????

Beautiful is not????

Look that fruits!!!

Look that fruits!!!

Sitting on a bench park  in the Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, just waiting …. Suddenly I started to pay attention to what was happening in front of me and look what I found … A strange tree with beautiful flowers and carnivora.
I asked and nobody could answer my question … does anyone out there know the name??
Anyway the nature always amazing us….A gift on this heat day

I am a thief…forgive me…

Sometimes I feel unhappy with my words…. I’m very tough with  myself ……. People suffer for other things … I suffer because I’m extremely objective …

I speak a lot of things that even I do not understand … and I’m hoping that my readers help me to understand myself …. this is not fair

 I can not talk about love …about me… damn …. I’m a poetess I know …but  what kind of poetess….If i  know anything  about it  or about myself… . but even in that way my poetry always has a bit of love ….that comes from someone who inspired me … in a short time …. or someone who always inspires me … since I started writing

But is love anyway … well …. that feeling that  lack  me makes me in a  way   better … so is love … i think … even if I do not speak about the heart , clouds and touches … is love

A simple summary … I think I ‘m just a summary’s  life … of the  others lives ….  of others  feelings… that i capture so well…and sustain in my heart….like was mine….I believe that I’m here to live and write about … the OTHERs… their pain , their feelings , their life and love …. and then again Oh!

I steal what is not mine …. Sorry … i am a thief … because i have nothing more inside me … they took everything from me and I had to start in anyway ….somehow to rebuild my life … so I take your life …your feelings….

Are you happy ? ? You will not even feel  that….it’s like a small prick of a needle …and you ‘ll forget so fast …. But  me  OH…  I cropped-pandora-box2.jpg  … I’ll will never forget…..and i ‘ll keep stealing the soul of others…. your soul maybe… But …Thanks for understanding and forgive me….

And you have to know…..for that sin i hold the world in my back

but no one knows….even you….

Writing and Forgetting

my forgettingwhen or if i remember
all  is  so blurred and you are the past
because you forgot….i did too

and because poets can easily forget
always has another word…another pen
just some trace on the path

trails of crumbs……. for someone to remember

I go writing and forgetting at same time

leaving behind with my words
a bunch of feelings, love and tears…

a life to be forgotten

in a paper….

writing and forgetting


i turning myself in an aquatic ink form
like a mixed watercolor’s palettes
all colors on my mind… with my hands

until…i dont know
until the next poem….

I think….

A brief inspiration

Museum Rodin.jpg1

i thought has lost my breath

as my inspiration~ all at once~

~in precious seconds~

words, words lost in time

i was longing for~ eat love~

for my breakfast… for my evenings

almost taking off my head

almost taking off my heart

throwing away…throwing away

in a very large dump

dump…dump… throwing me away

to forget…to forget myself

in that moment …of my suicide

you come to me

restoring the air on my lungs

still denuded of will

no air…no air…

and my inspiration arises

and bring back our ~heart breakfast~ at my mornings

bring back our ~body dinner~ for my evenings

Let me in….

let me in ~he said~

i have one love that you cant see
hands  without desire to touch
a cold and standoffish heart

let me in ~he begged~

as the time passed by you probably forgot
kisses that i keeped
and bruises that i created

affection never shared
to hold you…hold you
against your will

let me in ~he shouted ~

i need to show you
that you need me more
allow me spoil all at once LET ME IN

Let me in……you are mine

Two women in a Tibetan House

In the history of Tibetan prayer flags is said that the Buddha recited a prayer and it was printed in the battle flags between two people. The peace was soon restored between them. The tradition of offering prayer flags in the wind was introduced into Tibet in the eighth by a disciple of the Buddha century.

Traditionally, the flags are raised outdoors so that the prayers are taken and “recited” by the wind over long distances.

they lived together wandering in the world
traveling, not knowing how to share

i think to myself
how things pass by me unnoticed

they sit in front of me …beggin me something
with blurry eyes, confused

i prefer to listen
the sound that comes from the little flags hanging
they are singing
they are praying
as the wind comes through them

A Tibetan Tradition……
Love, love, peace, peace

in home again…someone fingering on the piano
as the rain comes down and freeze the hearts
in that warm Tibetan house
so sad and just  me …ready to hearTibetan House