an armored man bought a bread
a french bread … a sliced bread
starving as you are… you have to eat
pure… enjoying the salt
that it’ll give you the life
another night the same man
buy the same bread to you
and your thoughts guiding you to a remembrance
when you had
something more than a salted piece of bread
on your table
and you see yourself
The Minuano blew hard these days
while I was still breathing warm
~as the cold ~ always precedes the cold and win
~It went away~ taking my little steam soul
undulating in the air, losing herself in little drops….
in a boiling kettle
just whirling in the air
tasteless and odorless
Rising ~ capriciously ~ to pour into rain~
Minuano or simply minuano Wind is the name given to the current air that typically affects the Brazilian states of Rio Grande do Sul, Santa Catarina and Paraná. It’s a cold wind of polar origin (Atlantic polar air mass), occurs after the passage of cold fronts of fall and winter, usually after rain. Wikipedia.
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 lifeBut 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
blues eyes, green eyes
have so long that a cold wind frozen your face and closed your smiles
that i cant recognize you anymore
wide lips , wide laughs and sonorous
have so long you do not lose yourself~ away~
~like always we did ~remember?
i cant hear you anymore
but i understand …
was something keen~ pointed~
snowy your soul ~white white ~
~so much pain in that color ~
blowed and taking you along and alone
~petrifying you with all yours virtues~
and i , here, so lonely wondering….
where is the hybrid eyes~ the lips and the laughs~
when the time changed and ask for….
Oh! You are the same You know?
Was just a frozen cold wind that passed by there…..
a winter in your soul
blue and green eyes unfrozen again ….
To my Friend Jane Freitag Braun.
in a pedestal
just for your pleasure
that you share with others too
snowflakes fall on me
are my memories
from the cold and the white
just what i have
in a petrified body
curious fingers, slip over me
on my carved heels
i feel the strength
a smooth heat…..
in my sleepy remembrance
trying to spell out from my frozen mouth
i no longer need to move
i can accept the loneliness
and be forgotten
so, when time is my enemy
pain could join to others pains
and enforce your power
petrified i can forget
and just sleep forever
made out of marble
pain remembrance is most powerful that love…
let me there, lying down
in my niveous tomb
with the white and the cold
of fake snowflakes, inert
lying over me
a place where lies are sweet….
was more than a blaze
more than hot
fervent ~ lascivious ~
from my pulse
cutting and chipping
voices in the background
how many can do that
bring the color to the white
that rest at least